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 COURT ROYAL 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 COUBT EOYAL 
 
 A STORY OF CROSS CURRENTS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'MEHALAH' 'JOHN HERRING' &c. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON- 
 SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 
 1886 
 
 [All rights reserved]
 
 ££3 
 
 PEEFACE 
 
 When in 1880 the author published ' Mehalah,' 
 his critics, public and private, attacked him or 
 remonstrated with him because there was no 
 moral to the story — because ' Mehalah ' was 
 not, as the Germans would say, a Tendenz- 
 roman. No doubt that life is but an acted 
 iEsop's Fables, in which the actors are human, 
 but it is surely allowable in an author to take 
 wings occasionally, and rly away from the 
 stings and goads of moral applications which 
 prog one in everyday life, into the region of 
 unmoralising fancy. However, in his second 
 attempt, ' John Herring,' he did have a moral 
 purpose throughout his story, and his critics, 
 public and private, with one accord — only 
 excepting a couple of Scottish reviewers — failed 
 to see it. He complained of this one day to
 
 VI PREFACE 
 
 one of his critics, who replied, ' We have no 
 time to dive for purposes, we skim for story.' 
 That is true generally of the English reader, 
 specially of the novel reader, who dips but does 
 not plunge. Therefore the author acknow- 
 ledges that he made a mistake. A purpose, a 
 moral, must not be sunk in the depths like a 
 pearl, but tossed up on the margin as the amber, 
 conspicuous to the first passer-by. 
 
 His object in 'John Herring' was to show 
 that man's character is only moulded by mis- 
 takes. His reviewers objected that his hero was 
 characterless : that was his purpose — to show an 
 amiable, well-intentioned man, shaped by his 
 misfortunes. There was another, and deeper, 
 purpose in the story, which was to show how 
 a noble character can only be formed which 
 has before it an ideal, and that the ideal which 
 elevates character is ever, and ever must be, 
 unattainable. The man without an ideal 
 sinks ; the man with one rises ; but in so rising 
 passes through agonies. This life is his pur- 
 gatory. Only the man without an ideal is 
 happy — brutally happy. 
 
 And now the author will correct his pre-
 
 PREFACE Vll 
 
 vious error, and expose the purpose of this new 
 story at the outset. To do this, he will tell the 
 story of its inception. 
 
 In the summer of 1883, as he was return- 
 ing from his holiday in Tyrol, he came across 
 an account of a Croatian mother who, in a state 
 of absolute destitution, pawned her child to 
 save its life and prolong her own. He occu- 
 pied and amused himself, during his railway 
 journey home, in trying to work out what 
 would be the moral and mental result in such 
 an instance, supposing the child to be a girl 
 endowed by nature with generous emotions 
 and considerable shrewdness. It struck him 
 that such a character, so developed, would be 
 typical of the individualism and impatience of 
 restraint, social, moral, and religious, combined 
 with impulsive generosity, which is the feature 
 of the new civilisation, about also to be the 
 motive force of the future, that is coming every- 
 where to the front. 
 
 He had read recently a Polish story, entitled 
 4 Morituri,' which depicted the decay of a 
 Polish princely race, and it occurred to the 
 author to take such a family, steeped in
 
 Vlll PREFACE 
 
 traditional culture, infused with feudal-Christian 
 morality, as the representative of the old civili- 
 sation which is melting and disappearing every- 
 where, as the other becomes concrete and asserts 
 itself. 
 
 Again, the author asked himself, What 
 would be the result, what the mutual action 
 and reaction, if such a line of life as that 
 which he had ideally traced in one of his 
 heroines — the representative of the Coming 
 Age — were run athwart the threads of old 
 culture and ethics ? Would each act on the 
 other at all, to modify its peculiarities and 
 broaden its view of life ? To take another 
 simile, would such a vein of molten, fiery, nine- 
 teenth-century individuality, operating vertic- 
 ally, do other than shatter the superincumbent, 
 horizontal social beds ? Would it be itself at 
 all metamorphosed in the process? 
 
 The author was teased by the problem that 
 rose continually in his brain. He felt that he 
 could only work it out by calling his represen- 
 tative characters out of the vasty deep of con- 
 jecture, and setting them on the table, giving 
 them souls, and letting them move and act to-
 
 PEEFACE IX 
 
 wards each other automatically, and work out 
 the problem for themselves. Such, then, is the 
 history of the genesis of this story, and the 
 reader is requested to bear its purpose in mind 
 as he skims it. Two types in two groups are 
 opposed to each other ; each group represents a 
 set of ideas, social and moral, the one coming 
 on, conquering, overwhelming, the other disap- 
 pearing and likely soon to be looked back upon 
 as having become extinct in the moral world 
 like asceticism and mysticism. There are two 
 heroines each the focusing of the good qualities 
 of the two groups, and two heroes each the 
 concentration of the infirmities of the same.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. A LITTLE DEVIL . 
 
 II. PAWNED .... 
 
 III. LAZARUS .... 
 
 iv. Joanna's school 
 
 V. CRUDGE, SOLICITOR 
 
 VI. THE DUCAL FAMILY . 
 
 VII. BEAVIS .... 
 
 VIII. THE MARQUESS 
 
 IX. LORD RONALD 
 
 X. THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER . 
 
 XI. WHO WAS RACHEL? 
 
 XII. CHARLIE CHEEK 
 
 XIII. THE EMS WATER . 
 
 XIV. THE MONOKERATIC PRINCIPLE 
 
 XV. WANTED, A HOUSEMAID 
 
 XVI. VENITE .... 
 
 XVII. STOCK-TAKING 
 
 XVIII. LADY GRACE 
 
 XIX. SLEEPY HOLLOW . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 
 
 . 19 
 . 33 
 . 45 
 . 59 
 • 77 
 . 103 
 . 124 
 . 137 
 . 154 
 . 177 
 . 191 
 . 206 
 . 220 
 . 233 
 . 243 
 . 256 
 . 273 
 . 291
 
 COURT ROYAL. 
 
 A STORY OF CROSS CURREXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL. 
 
 At the top or at the bottom ? At which 
 shall we begin ? Sediment to-day is scum to- 
 morrow. That which is on the surface sinks. 
 Therefore, does it matter ? The universe is in 
 revolution, so is the social order. We will 
 begin at the bottom, as most philosophical. 
 Only the builders of Lagado began their edifices 
 at the apex. The Barbican is the oldest portion . 
 of ancient Plymouth. It consists of a collec- 
 tion of crazy houses built along the quay of 
 Sutton Pool, which was the ancient port of 
 Plymouth. The houses are tall, with slated 
 fronts and bow windows, much out of the per- 
 pendicular, of various dates. In these houses 
 VOL. i. B
 
 2 COURT ROYAL 
 
 dwelt the old merchants of Plymouth, who 
 equipped vessels against the Spaniards and 
 carried Tavistock friezes to all the ports of 
 Europe. From Sutton Pool Drake sailed 
 against the Armada. The grand merchant- 
 houses have become the habitations of dealers 
 in marine stores, drinking-shops and eating- 
 houses. 
 
 Sic transit gloria mundi. 
 
 The houses on the Barbican are so crowded 
 that they are devoid of back yards, and when 
 the inhabitants have a washing they thrust their 
 garments from their windows on poles to dry in 
 the sea-breeze and the sun. Some ingenious 
 dwellers in these old houses contrive a system 
 of rigging between their poles whereby a much 
 larger wash can be exposed. On every day 
 that lends itself to drying, the Barbican nutters 
 its flags and streamers. The flags vary in shape, 
 more than in colour, and most of all in their 
 heraldic achievements. Some are ' enhanced ' 
 with flaunches, others with bendlets, frets, 
 bordures, even with bars sinister. Certain 
 bifurcated pennons show a leaning towards 
 ' escutcheoning.' The banners are for the most 
 part white, tawny as old Tiber, or Isabelle. 
 Some few are azure of a deep and dingy blue.
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 3 
 
 Froin one window a circular mass of drapery, 
 gules, bulges in the wind. It is the petticoat 
 of the lady of the ham and sausage shop. 
 
 One corner house, standing between two 
 thoroughfares, never displayed its bunting. 
 Apparently, no washing was ever done in it. 
 Over the door of this house hung three golden 
 balls, and in scaling paint over the window was 
 inscribed the name — ' Lazarus. 5 
 
 The Barbican is not a savoury place. Here 
 the fish are unladen and sold, and here the 
 little fish that fall out of the baskets get 
 trampled out of shape, and rot in the mire. 
 
 When the tide is out, the ooze in Sutton 
 Pool sends up its complement of effluvium. 
 Providentially, the sea-tangles, hanging from 
 the wharf in fringes of dull green, exhale 
 chlorine, and the sea-breeze brings in ozone, to 
 disinfect and disperse the pestilential odours. 
 
 The Barbican is a busy place all day, and 
 late into the night ; but at noon, for an hour, it 
 drops into quiet. Then all the sound that 
 habitually pervades it is sucked in at the doors 
 of the taverns and eating-houses, and fills them 
 to repletion. 
 
 It was precisely at this hour, one hot day in 
 early June, that the stillness of the Barbican 
 
 B 2
 
 4 COURT ROYAL 
 
 quay was broken by piercing and protracted 
 shrieks. 
 
 Two persons and a cat alone occupied the 
 wharf at that time : the one was the pier-guard, 
 who was then lounging on the wall looking; sea- 
 ward ; the other was an old woman sitting under 
 a large umbrella with her back to sun and sea, 
 fast asleep before the table of gmgerbeer-bottles 
 of which she disposed. The cat took no notice 
 of the screams, nor did the old woman, who 
 only woke when the quay became repeopled 
 and business looked alive. The guard turned 
 leisurely round, drew his hands out of his 
 pockets, walked to the steps by which passen- 
 gers disembarked from the Oreston steamer, 
 descended them, cast off a boat, and, stepping 
 in, shouted, ' Hold hard, you little devil ! ' 
 
 Some faces, attracted by the cries, appeared 
 at the windows, but the view was obscured by 
 fluttering drapery. The lady over the ham and 
 sausage shop, Thresher by name, saw what was 
 the matter ; her visual ray was not cut off 
 by the washing. She shouted some practical 
 advice, then turned and scolded her husband, 
 who lay on the bed with his boots upon the 
 pillow, reading a Eadical paper. After that 
 she drew on a jacket and descended to the quay.
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 5 
 
 Some men, moreover, who Lad finished 
 their dinner, issued from the eating-houses to 
 ascertain what was the matter, and those who 
 had not done bolted the rest of their food, fear- 
 ful of being too late for an accident, yet unwilling 
 to leave unconsumed good victuals for which 
 they had paid. 
 
 The screams became louder, shriller. Then 
 they were interrupted for a minute, again to 
 ring forth as loudly as before. 
 
 The cries issued from the lungs of a child — 
 a girl — of twelve, who was in the arms of a 
 wretched-looking woman. They were near 
 the edge of the quay when the screams began. 
 The woman was attempting to fling herself and 
 the child into the water. The girl had her arms 
 about an old cannon, planted in the granite 
 coping as a hold for hawsers, and clung to it 
 desperately. Finally, the superior strength of 
 the woman prevailed, and she precipitated her- 
 self and the child over the edge into the Pool. 
 Then, for a moment, the cries were silenced, for 
 a moment only, while the child was under water. 
 Both rose to the surface, covered with mud, 
 near a chain. In a moment, the child saw her 
 opportunity, grasped the chain, and crawled up 
 it, with the water streaming from her, looking
 
 6 COURT ROYAL 
 
 like a drowning rat, and again she shrieked as 
 loud as her lungs would allow. 
 
 In a moment, also, the pierkeeper was at 
 hand in the boat. He lifted the woman out of 
 the water, and then laid hold of the child. The 
 latter, unable at first to distinguish that the hands 
 grasping her were not those of her mother, and 
 that the object for which she was grasped was 
 not to drown her, clung frantically to the chain, 
 and yelled with such force and penetration in 
 the tones, that the guard lost patience, and said 
 angrily, ' Let go, you squalling cat, will you ? ' 
 
 Instantly the child relaxed her hold, and 
 allowed herself to be lifted into the boat. She 
 knew, by the voice, that she was in the hands 
 of a man, come to save her. When she was in 
 the boat, she dipped her palms in the water, and 
 washed the mud from her eyes and mouth and 
 nose. After that she set herself to clean the 
 face of her mother with the skirt of her frock. 
 
 ' What is the meaning of this ? ' said the man. 
 
 ' I wouldn't be drownded,' answered the child. 
 6 I told mother as much, but her paid no heed 
 to what I said.' 
 
 ' Now then, missus,' said he, addressing the 
 woman with rough kindness, ' what did you do 
 it for ? '
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 7 
 
 The poor creature made no reply. She sat, 
 cuddled into a heap in the bottom, hugging her 
 knees, with the water pouring off her. Her 
 head was bowed on her bosom. 
 
 ' Did y ' hear, now ? ' shouted the child, raising 
 the sodden hair off the mother's ear. ' The 
 gemman asked you a civil question, and you 
 must answer him civil too. He asked you what 
 made you do it.' 
 
 ' I am wretched,' she replied in a faint voice ; 
 4 my husband is dead. We have been starving. 
 I can find no situation because of Joanna, and 
 get no work. I did not know what to do with 
 myself and her, and as us couldn't find a situation 
 on earth, I thought we'd go and o- e t one in 
 heaven.' 
 
 ' But I wouldn't,' put in the girl, emphatic- 
 ally, looking the boatman level in the eyes. 
 ' I told mother plain I was not agreeable. 
 I don't want to go to heaven — and,' with a 
 stamp on the bottom of the boat, 'I won't 
 so.' 
 
 ' You've a will of your own, apparently,' 
 said the man, smiling. 
 
 ' I don't choose to be drowndecl,' answered 
 the girl. Then she thrust her wet and dirty hair 
 out of her face, and tried to knot it behind her
 
 S COURT KOYAL 
 
 head, c and I don't clioose as mother shall be, 
 neither.' 
 
 1 I'll tell you what, ma'am,' said the pier- 
 keeper ; ' two good things have combined for 
 the saving of you to-day. First comes I. I 
 was on the spot handy. Secondly, the tide was 
 running out and leaving the Pool dry ; so there 
 was no depth available for drowning purposes.' 
 The boat touched the steps. ; Up with yon, 
 both/ he said, ; and mind, no more of these 
 games.' 
 
 The wretched woman obeyed meekly. The 
 child strode up the stone stairs full of confidence, 
 saying, but hardly in a tone of apology, 4 You 
 know, mother. I was not agreeable.' 
 
 The woman staggered after her daughter 
 to the pier, and then stood there help 
 dazed, looking about her without light in her 
 eyes. 
 
 The water ran off her and formed a pond at 
 her feet ; the slime was smeared over her hair 
 and face and hands. Her soaked garments 
 cluncr to her. revealing at once how few and thin 
 they were. 
 
 By this time several persons had assembled. 
 They surrounded the little group and eyed them 
 curiously. These were mostly men, still chew-
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL ( J 
 
 ing the remains of their dinner or picking their 
 teeth. Mrs. Thresher, from the ham-shop, was 
 there in a black bod}' over a red petticoat, very 
 short, exposing dirty stockings and slippers 
 down at heel. 
 
 Questions showered on the poor creature. 
 which she did not answer, perhaps did not 
 catch. She clutched her child's hand convul- 
 sively, and with disengaged hand wiped the 
 water from her eyes. 
 
 ' Xow look you here,' said the pier-guard. 
 6 you oughtn't to have done it, or if you did 
 ought to do it, you ought to have done it in a 
 less dirty place. Sutton Pool is not a palatable 
 place in which to end existence. Wait till the 
 tide is out, and have a look for yourself. I 
 reckon further acquaintance won't make you 
 more friendly. It will rince all taste of felo- 
 de-se out of your mouth. Dead cats, rotten 
 cabbage, decayed potatoes, cracked cloam 
 (crockery), old tobacco pipes, kettles and pans 
 full of holes, boots bursted, and solele^s shoes, 
 scatted (broken) bottles, anything, everything 
 that £oes to make filth is chucked in there, and 
 rots away into black paste which is proper con- 
 solidated smeech (smell). I reckon that Sutton 
 Pool bottom is made of the dirtiest drea's of
 
 10 COURT ROYAL 
 
 civilisation. That is what we've hauled you 
 and your brat out of. If you've any sense of 
 decency in you, keep out of Sutton Pool. The 
 blue sea is a different crib altogether.' 
 
 ' I won't be drownded neither in the blue 
 sea, nor in Sutton Pool, nor in a pickling-tub,' 
 said the child resolutely ; ' I'm damned if I 
 be.' 
 
 The circle of lookers-on burst out laughing. 
 
 'Oh, you wicked child!' exclaimed Mrs. 
 Thresher, of the ham-shop. ' Where do you 
 expect to go, using them swearing words ? ' 
 
 ' Father said it when he meant a thing — 
 much,' answered the child. 
 
 'Your father smoked, I reckon.' 
 
 'Yes, he did.' 
 
 ' But you don't see ladies smoke.' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Mrs. Thresher, ' pipes and 
 cusses are nat'ral in a man's mouth, but natur' 
 herself protests when you see either in the mouth 
 of a woman.' 
 
 'Did you hear how the little creature 
 squealed ? ' asked the pierkeeper. 
 
 ' Her cries drew me from my dinner, and 
 lost me the picking of my rabbit-bones,' said one 
 of the men.
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 11 
 
 'I'd have had another glass of ale,' said 
 a second, c but I thought two foreigners was 
 fighting and sticking knives into each other. I 
 wouldn't ha' missed that. I was always a bit of 
 a sportsman since I was a boy.' 
 
 ' I cried,' said the girl, ' because I would not 
 let mother drown me.' 
 
 ■ And cry tha' did, by jiggers ! ' exclaimed 
 a skipper, a large man from Yorkshire. ' I was 
 down in my cabin when tha' piped.' 
 
 ' Look here,' said the pier- guard ; c if us 
 stand here in a knot, the police will be suspect- 
 ing something and turn their beaks this way. 
 Then they'll have this unfortunate female up 
 before the magistrates on the double charge of 
 felo-de-se and felo-de-child, and transport her 
 for it to Dartmoor. So let us be moving. Now 
 then, ma'am ! ' — he spoke to the woman, plant- 
 ing himself before her, legs apart, and his 
 hands on his hips — c if you will pass your word 
 that you won't play no more of these pranks, 
 I'll let you go ; if not, I'll tow you into custody 
 myself.' 
 
 ' No, sir, I wT>n't do it no more,' said the 
 miserable creature. 
 
 ' Her shan't ! ' protested the child. 
 
 6 What is to be done with them ? ' asked
 
 12 COURT EOYAL 
 
 the pierman. ' They are both wet to the marrow 
 of their bones 
 
 No one was prepared with an answer. 
 One man, suspecting a subscription, tailed 
 a way. 
 
 4 You must go home and have a chang . 
 said the pierman kindly. ' And let me counsel 
 a drop of hot grog. It will drive the chill out 
 of you and the squealer.' 
 
 *I have no home — I have no chang ! 
 I have nowhere and nothing,' answered the 
 woman mournfully. 
 
 • There is that blessed institootion, the 
 Work'us. always open." said one man in a tone 
 of sarcasm. 
 
 • I'd rather drown than go there/ answered 
 she ; 'there they'd take my Joanna from me.' 
 
 -V ^Tunt of assent. 
 
 • Her's got the proper principles of a Christ- 
 ian/ said the woman in the red petticoat. ■ I'd 
 go into Sutton Pool myself rather than into the 
 House. I reckon in the matter of dirt tfa 
 about equal, only in the House it's moral, and in 
 the Pool its physical/ 
 
 • Sither, lass.' said the skipper, in strong 
 Yorkshire accent, 'how didst a come here? 
 Tell us all aboot it.'
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 13 
 
 • My husband died/ she 1 timid" ; 
 ■ I s Id everything I had, bit by bit, till all was 
 
 I couldn't pay roy rent, and I couldn't 
 buy no food. I went from place to place after 
 work, but I could get none. No one would 
 give me a situation till I got rid of the child. 
 All were in one song — "Send her t the Union/ 1 
 I couldn't do that ; so I thought we'd both go 
 to heaven together.' 
 
 ' Have you no change of clothes any when : 
 lskc I Mrs. Thresher: 'because, if you have, 
 you may change in my room, and I'll turn my 
 old man out while you do it. 5 
 
 • I've naught but what I stand up in,' said 
 the poor creature, 'nor has Joanna, neithri. 
 
 • Nc >w, then, my lads/ said the pierman, 
 casting his eye round, ' I propose we raise a 
 Few si illings among us to rig out the pair afresh.' 
 
 • I reckon Mr. Lazarus can fit them out,' 
 one of the by stand e 
 
 • O' course he can,' said the skipper ; ' but 
 he'll not do 'twi'out brass. Here's half a crown 
 
 start wi\ Who'll give something upon that? 
 Here's my cap as collecting-box- 3 
 
 • It '11 come expensive,' remarked a barge- 
 man in sepulchral tones : * I know what the 
 rig-out of my missus costs me.'
 
 14 COURT KOYAL 
 
 'A gown can be had secondhand for a 
 trifle.' 
 
 'A gown ain't all,' said the bargeman 
 mysteriously. 
 
 < What else, then ? ' 
 
 ' What else ? Why, there's stays,' growled 
 the bargeman. 'Them figures — new — seven 
 and eightpence three-farthings ! ' 
 
 ' Then there's a petticoat,' suggested a pilot 
 timidly ; ' if you doubt my word look around 
 at all the fluttering bunting. Women must wear 
 them things somehow, and they don't use 'em 
 as caps.' 
 
 ' A petticoat ! ' exclaimed the north-country 
 skipper. ' Every respectable lass has two — one 
 coloured, t'other white.' 
 
 ' Must the little maid have stays, too ! ' 
 asked the pierkeeper. 
 
 ' All females has stays,' answered the barge- 
 man. 'Girls has 'em without bones. The 
 bones come later in life.' 
 
 ' What more ? ' asked the skipper. 
 
 A dead silence. The men were thinking 
 and looking inquiringly at the dripping woman, 
 who was too bewildered to reply. 
 
 ' Where is Mrs. Thresher ? her can tell us,' 
 said the pilot.
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL J 5 
 
 But Mrs. Thresher was gone to her room 
 to turn her old man out of it, and prepare for 
 the contingency of receiving the poor woman 
 into it. 
 
 Still silence. The men's brows were wrin- 
 kled with hard thought. It was broken by 
 the rumbling bass of the bargeman. ' Dress- 
 improver ! ' 
 
 ' Must the little maid have one ? ' 
 
 ' Of course. All females have dress-im- 
 provers,' said the bargeman, puffing and swell- 
 ing with consciousness of superior knowledge. 
 'Four-and-ten is about the figure.' 
 
 8 That makes five articles apiece, mates,' said 
 the pierkeeper, checking them off on his fingers : 
 1 thumb for sown, fore and middle fingers stand 
 for petticoats, the last but one for stays, and the 
 little chap is dress-improver. Xow, then, mates, 
 see what we can raise among us for the poor 
 creatures.' 
 
 The party moved along the quay towards 
 the pawnshop, the Yorkshire skipper revolving, 
 cap in hand, among the members. 
 
 ' I've been considering,' said he, after a 
 while, * as how I might find the lass a berth 
 aboard my vessel if she could get shut (rid) of 
 the bairn. We could do wi' a woman to cook
 
 16 COURT ROYAL 
 
 and wash for us ; and shoo might addle (earn) 
 a few shillings that road. What do you think 
 o' that, mates? And what dost 'a say to it 
 thysel', lass ? ' 
 
 The dazed woman looked at the Yorkshire- 
 man without understanding his proposal. He 
 repeated it in more intelligible form ; then she 
 comprehended it, and her wan face lighted up, 
 only to dull again. 
 
 ' May I take my Joanna ? ' 
 
 c That's the scratch,' said the skipper. 
 'Slioo's wick as a scoprill (lively as a teetotum), 
 and I'd be glad if I could; but we can't find 
 room for little bairns.' 
 
 The pilot explained : ' Can't find room on 
 board for little maidens.' 
 
 * What is to become of my Joanna ? ' asked 
 the bewildered woman, looking with blank eyes 
 about her. 
 
 The man with a vein of sarcasm in him, 
 who had before suggested the Union, threw 
 out another suggestion, likewise ironical. ' As 
 you're about to get clothes of Mr. Lazarus, 
 perhaps you can pawn the child to him, and 
 raise a few shillings on her ! ' 
 
 The suggestion elicited a general laugh. 
 The woman, however, took it seriously, and
 
 A LITTLE DEVIL 17 
 
 walked towards the pawnbroker's shop, drawing 
 the child along with her. 
 
 'Here is t'brass a've gotten together for 
 thee,' said the skipper, pouring the coin from 
 his cap into her hand. ' Take it, and get the 
 ten articles thyself.' 
 
 Then he signed to the others to withdraw, 
 and they, with great delicacy, did so, whilst the 
 woman entered the pawnbroker's shop. 
 
 ' Mates,' said the skipper, ' leave the lass 
 to do the shopping alone. It's more decent. 
 She'll get the ten articles. Trust a woman to 
 bargain. And whilst shoo's aboot it we'll put 
 heads together and consider what is to be done 
 wi' the little bairn.' 
 
 ' Did you hear her scream ? ' asked the 
 pilot. 
 
 ' Her 'd do as a syren (steam whistle) to an 
 ironclad, and rouse the Three Towns (Plymouth, 
 Stonehouse, and Devonport) when coming into 
 harbour.' 
 
 ' Scream ! ' exclaimed another man, ' I 
 should like to know what man or woman but 
 the old lady under the umbrella by the ginger- 
 beer could fail to hear her. Mark my words ! 
 That little maid ain't born to be drowned. How 
 vol. i. c
 
 18 COURT ROYAL 
 
 her worked lier way up the chain out o' the 
 slime ! Well,' sententiously, ' there be other 
 chains than that in this world ; and may she 
 work herself up the next she catches as well as 
 she went up that ! '
 
 19 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 PAWNED. 
 
 The woman entered the shop of Mr. Lazarus. 
 When there she stood trembling and looking 
 down, confused or frightened, whilst the child 
 at her side peered about with eager eyes at the 
 articles with which the shop was crowded. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus was a dark man, of distinct 
 Israelitish type, his hair cut short, like moleskin, 
 but his jaws and chin covered with a bristly 
 scrub. He was wont to shave once a week, 
 and went bristly and black between times. 
 His eye ran over the customer, and took stock 
 of what she wore. He soon satisfied himself 
 that she had nothing about her in his way, 
 except a gold wedding-ring. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus looked suspiciously and threat- 
 eningly at the child. He detested children. 
 They played marbles, ball, tipcat on the pave- 
 ment, and broke his windows. They shouted
 
 20 COURT ROYAL 
 
 after him, ' Eags and bones ! ' or ' Old clo' ! ' 
 through their noses, or put their heads into his 
 shop, and asked how he was off for soap, or 
 ' Any black puddings or bacon rashers to- 
 
 day.' 
 
 The pawnbroker was frequently engaged, 
 behind his counter, whittling at a stick, lying 
 in wait to rush forth with it upon the urchins 
 who offended him. It was rarely, however, 
 that he caught the delinquents. He more often 
 fell upon, or fell over, an inoffensive and unof- 
 fending child, and rattled his stick about its 
 sides. Then the parents — the mother certainly 
 — would appear on the scene and join in the 
 noise, belabouring Mr. Lazarus with her tongue. 
 When matters reached this point, Mr. Lazarus 
 would return to his shop, with the stick tucked 
 under his arm, growling Levitical imprecations. 
 
 4 What do you want?' asked Mr. Lazarus, 
 looking up from an account-book, and laying 
 the stick on the table. 
 
 1 Please, sir,' answered the woman in a faint, 
 frightened voice, ' I want a set of dry clothes 
 for myself and Joanna.' 
 
 ' Certainly,' answered the Jew with alacrity. 
 'Tumbled into the Pool, eh? About what 
 figure, pray ? '
 
 PAWNED 21 
 
 ' This is all I have,' answered she, extending 
 her hand and opening it. 
 
 ' One half-crown, two shillings, one ' — he rang 
 it — 'bad, two sixpences, and eight threepenny 
 bits, also one French ha'penny, which don't 
 pass current. I return you the shilling. You 
 may be able to get others to take it, less wide- 
 awake. That makes six-and-six. Can't do 
 much for you at that price.' 
 
 Then the poor creature said, 'Please, sir, 
 you'll be liberal, I hope. I've nothing else, and 
 am wet to the marrow. I have brought the 
 child. I thought to raise a few shillings on her.' 
 
 1 The child ! What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' My darling, my Joanna.' 
 
 Mr. Lazarus turned a green hue. 
 
 ' You're trying to make sport of me ! ' he 
 exclaimed, clutching at his stick. ' You've been 
 put up to it. I wont stand this sort of game. 
 Get out at once.' 
 
 ' Please, sir,' said the woman, trembling 
 with cold and alarm, 'the gentleman outside 
 as fished me from the Pool got up a subscrip- 
 tion for me, that I might have dry clothes. 
 I've no more, but if you'd consent to take the 
 child ' 
 
 'I take the child — I — I!' screamed Mr.
 
 22 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Lazarus. ' Children are the plague of my life. 
 
 I wouldn't have one if offered for nothing.' 
 
 ' Then, sir, I must take the money else- 
 where.' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' said the pawnbroker, ' six-and-six is 
 it ? Pity it should be lost. Do you think the 
 gentlemen would subscribe a little more ? The 
 charitable feelings, when well worked, are very 
 yielding. If you'd make believe to be des- 
 perate, and about to fall or throw yourself in 
 again, may be the collecting cap would go 
 round again, and the sum disposable mount to 
 eleven-and-six. At eleven-and-six I might 
 consider you. I can't so much as look at you 
 for six-and-six. Just cast your eyes over this 
 myrtle-green trimmed with cream lace ! Don't 
 it make your mouth water ? ' 
 
 ' I'm watering all over,' sighed the woman. 
 
 I I only want ordinary dry clothes.' 
 
 ' Or this Dolly Varden witli panniers, a 
 little passed in style, and a kiss-me-quick 
 bonnet. Make you quite irresistible, miss — 
 beg pardon — ma'am, I mean.' 
 
 ' I have no more. I can get no more. I 
 need only a cotton dress and underclothing.' 
 
 ' Lor' bless you ! ' exclaimed the Jew, 
 f what does that latter signify so long as the
 
 PAWNED 23 
 
 gown is gorgeous ? Try to screw sorne more 
 from the gents outside. If you cried, now, in 
 a proper heart-rending way ? ' 
 
 The woman shook her head despairingly. 
 'I did not ask for this. I want only neces- 
 saries. Why did they not let me drown, and 
 be at rest ? ' 
 
 ' What, ma'am ? ' said the Jew. ' Drown 
 with an available six-and-six on the quay 
 awaiting you ! The thing is ridiculous ! ' 
 
 6 Please, sir, will you take the child ? ' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' asked Lazarus 
 testily, turning green again. 
 
 ' I mean my Joanna,' answered the woman, 
 pointing to the little girl at her side. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus waxed wroth. ' Do I take 
 little girls ? Eh ! look round and see what are 
 the articles in my shop. Dolls ; yes, they don't 
 eat. China figures ; yes, they don't wear out 
 clothes. I'm not a cannibal. Can't make 
 butcher's meat out of children. I wish I 
 might. I'd set up shambles and reduce their 
 numbers.' 
 
 'I don't want to sell Joanna,' said the 
 woman in a dull, distressed voice, ' I wouldn't 
 sell her for a thousand guineas. But I thought, 
 no offence, I might pawn her for a time, so as
 
 24 COURT ROYAL 
 
 to make up the difference, and get a fit out of 
 dry clothe? for both of us.' 
 
 ' Be off with you ! This is no foundling 
 hospital where every troublesome child maybe 
 left. Get out of this, or I'll rattle my stick 
 about the bones of the monkey.' 
 
 1 I have nowhere to ^o to, sir. I have 
 passed my word not to fling myself into the 
 sea again. You shall have Joanna, sir, for lialf- 
 a-sovereign.' 
 
 1 Half-a-sovereign ! ' cried Mr. Lazarus, 
 starting back. • Have I human ears to hear 
 such a proposition? Half-a-sovereign for a 
 little maggot that'll eat her own weight of 
 nourishing victuals every day ! I won't have 
 her at any price. Chuck her into Sutton 
 Pool. 1 
 
 • I won't 1 e drownde ." -aid the child reso- 
 lutely. 
 
 c I throwed her in once, and her crawled 
 out like a spider running along its cobweb.' 
 
 1 Do with her what you will. I'll have 
 nothing to say to her,' cried the angry pawn- 
 1 .roker. Then working himself into fury, ; Will 
 you be off? Look what a pond you two have 
 made in my shop. The floor is swimming. 
 A mop won't take it up in a week ; and all the
 
 PAWNED ZO 
 
 iron-ware, and the forks and knives, will be 
 rusted, and the cloth and leather mildewed.' 
 
 ; Well, sir,' sighed the woman, ' give me 
 back the money and I'll go.' 
 
 6 Six-and-six ! ' said Mr. Lazarus in a softer 
 tone, ' six-and-six is six-and-six. Can't we 
 deal reasonably and quietly ? What is the ad- 
 vantage of your working yourself up into fever 
 and fury ? ' 
 
 ' Please, sir,' said the woman with perti- 
 nacity, such as could hardly be looked for in 
 one so timid and dazed, ' I can have a situation 
 if I &et rid of the child.' 
 
 1 Well, what is that to me ? ' 
 
 ' I won't sell her, sir ! and I won't send her 
 to the Union. If you'll be so kind as to take 
 her, and lend me half- a sovereign on her, I'll 
 throw in my wedding-ring beside.' 
 
 ' Let me look at it. I dare be sworn it is 
 brass.' 
 
 ; We were well off when us married, and 
 could afford it,' explained the woman. Then, 
 whilst the Jew was examining the ring and 
 testing it with acid, she said, ' ]\Iy Joanna is 
 of pure gold. You'd better take her, sir. 
 You'd never repent, I reckon she can do most 
 things. Her can wash '
 
 26 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' I have no washing done here,' said Lazarus, 
 shortly. ' Never found the need. The Barbican 
 is poisoned with the smell of yellow soap and 
 the reek of drying linen.' 
 
 'Then, sir, her can cook you a rasher of 
 bacon ' 
 
 ' I never eat of the pig,' screamed Lazarus, 
 and spat on the floor. 
 
 ' Her can kindle a fire ' 
 
 ' And waste tons of coal.' 
 
 6 Her can nurse the babies ' 
 
 'I've no babies. I don't want 'em. I 
 wouldn't have 'em.' 
 
 ' Her can run messages like a greyhound, 
 and mind the shop when you are out ; and 
 should burglars try to break in, her would 
 scream, and scream, and scream.' 
 
 ' Eh ! ' said Lazarus, looking up interested. 
 ; Was that she screaming half-an-hour ago ? ' 
 
 ' It was. Her can scream when proper. 
 Other times she's as still as a mouse.' 
 
 Mr. Lazarus considered for a few moments. 
 He rubbed his bristly chin, blew his nose in a 
 fashion almost lost in this age of refinement. 
 Then he leaned both elbows on the counter and 
 stared at the girl. Mr. Lazarus was nervous 
 about burglars. Unwittingly the mother had
 
 PAWNED 27 
 
 touched a fibre in his soul that quivered. 
 Keport credited hirn with vast wealth, with 
 money, plate, jewellery, stored in the crazy old 
 house. More than once he had been alarmed 
 by attempts to break in. He had an infirmity 
 which he could not master. He slept so soundly 
 that nothing woke him. The Barbican was a 
 noisy place by night as well as by day. Tipsy 
 sailors rambled about it, drunken women 
 squabbled, foreign sailors fought on the quay. 
 The ear in time became so accustomed to 
 noises that they ceased to disturb. Lazarus 
 had resolved to get a dog, but begrudged the 
 food it would consume. Following this train 
 of thought, he said to himself, ' Half-a-sov. ! I 
 could get a mongrel pup for less.' 
 
 ' Sir,' argued the woman, ' with a pup you 
 wouldn't get a gold wedding-ring.' 
 
 4 That is true, but a clog eats bones, and 
 girls eat meat.' 
 
 c Oh ! my Joanna hasn't much of that. A 
 crust of bread and some dripping — her never 
 gets beyond that. Besides, you'd have to pay 
 tax on a dog, not on a girl.' 
 
 ' That also is true, but a clog grows his own 
 coat, and a girl grows out of every suit you put 
 her into.'
 
 28 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' The girl is a golden girl, gold through and 
 through,' said the mother. ' She wakes early, 
 and has her hand in work all day ; is never idle, 
 never plays, never neglects a duty ; try her.' 
 
 Mr. Lazarus came from behind the counter, 
 put his hand under Joanna's chin and thrust the 
 wet hair from her brow. He pursed up his lips, 
 half closed his eyes, and studied her critically. 
 
 Then Joanna, surmising that Mr. Lazarus was 
 about to relent, put forth her full powers of 
 resistance. She clawed at his coat, which 
 being rusty gave way ; she bit at his hands, 
 and made them bleed ; she kicked his shins, 
 and forced him to caper ; and she yelled, as 
 surely no mortal lungs had yelled before. 
 
 The men outside drew near the shop, 
 flattened their noses against the window-panes 
 and looked in, then grinned, rubbed their 
 hands, laughed in each other's faces, and said : 
 'Her's born to make a noise in the world, no 
 mistake — an irrepressible. Then they backed. 
 The screams pierced the drums of their ears like 
 bradawls. 
 
 Joanna danced and tore, and shrieked and 
 writhed. ' I am not good,' she cried ; ' I am 
 not golden. I am bad, and brazen. I'm a 
 little devil. Don't buy me. I'm worth nothing
 
 PAWNED 29 
 
 at all. I scream all day. All night as well. 
 No one can sleep in the house where I am. I 
 never work. I scat (break) all the cloam 
 (crockery). I smash the windows. I set a 
 house on fire. I'm a devil ; I'm a devil.' 
 
 In vain did the poor mother reason with, 
 and try to pacify the child. The little creature 
 was as one possessed. She shook herself in 
 convulsions of rage, so that the water spirted 
 off her, as from a poodle drying itself after a 
 bath. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus was fain to put the counter 
 between himself and the child. He was not 
 angry ; he looked on approvingly. 
 
 ' With burglars,' said he, nodding to the 
 mother, ' this would be first-rate.' 
 
 Then the girl tore round the shop, kicking 
 the counter, and dashing against the goods piled 
 in the corners. 
 
 ' Look here ! ' said Mr. Lazarus. ' Do you 
 see all these walking-sticks? Thorn and bamboo 
 they are. I'll try their respective merits on 
 your ribs, you wild cat, unless you desist.' 
 Then to the mother, ' She will do. I take her. 
 You shall have the money. I must stop the 
 noise first ; there is no dealing because of it.' 
 
 Then, feebly assisted by the woman, the
 
 30 COURT ROYAL 
 
 pawnbroker carried the child, kicking, tearing, 
 howling, into the kitchen, to the coalhole, into 
 which he thrust her. Then he tried to lock 
 her in, but she dashed herself against the door, 
 and beat the lock when he attempted to fasten 
 it. After many efforts he succeeded in turning 
 the key. 
 
 ' There,' said he, ' squall yourself hoarse. 
 Bang your hands and knees raw. No one will 
 heed.' 
 
 He returned to the shop with the mother, 
 who was trembling and crying. 
 
 He shut the kitchen door, and the shop 
 door leading into the house likewise ; neverthe- 
 less the cries and thumpings from the coalhole 
 were still audible, though distant and muffled. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus wiped his brow. ' There is life 
 in the child. There are will and pertinacity,' 
 he said. ' She knows her own mind, which is 
 more than do many. Here is the half- 
 sovereign.' 
 
 6 Thank you, sir. You understand, I don't 
 sell her.' 
 
 6 Of course not, of course not.' 
 
 8 I only pawn her,' said the woman timidly. 
 
 8 To be sure, to be sure.' 
 
 8 And, sir, I want my ticket.'
 
 PAWNED 31 
 
 ' What ticket ? ' 
 
 ' The pawn-ticket, sir, so that when I bring 
 the money I may have my child back out of 
 pawn.' 
 
 ' By all means,' said Mr. Lazurus. ' And 
 when shall we say the time is up ? ' 
 
 'Well, sir, if I may make it seven years, 
 I'll take it as a favour. Joanna is now twelve, 
 and in seven she'll be nineteen. I may be able 
 to redeem her in a few months, but I cannot 
 tell. I'm going away in a ship, and I don't 
 know where to. I should like a margin, so as 
 to give me plenty of time to look about, and 
 scrape.' 
 
 ' Certainly,' said Mr. Lazarus. ' Seven years 
 let it be. The interest will be ten per cent. A 
 shilling a year. In seven years that will be 
 seven shillings for interest. I'll write you out 
 the ticket at once. Hand me over the wedding- 
 ring again. You took it up just now. The 
 half-sovereign and six-and-six — less twopence 
 for the ticket, that makes sixteen-and-four. 
 This is what you want to lay out in dry clothes. 
 We will see if we can suit you. The myrtle- 
 green and cream lace won't do. Style unbe- 
 coming. Something warm and useful. I 
 understand. Here is the ticket. Number six
 
 32 
 
 COURT ROYAL 
 
 hundred and seventeen your daughter is. 
 ma'arn. Six hundred and seventeen. Now 
 your name, please ? ' 
 
 'Marianne Eosevere.' 
 
 ' And my little maid is ' 
 
 'Six hundred and seventeen. 1
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LAZARUS. 
 
 When the mother was gone, with dry and 
 decent garments, and the drumming and roar- 
 
 ing at the cellar door had ceased, Mr. Lazarus 
 went to the coalhole and unlocked it. 
 
 Then Joanna walked forth. She had gone 
 in wet ; she emerged caked in coal-dust, black 
 as a sweep. Clothing, hands, race, hair, were 
 all black. Nothing was clean about her but 
 the white of her eyes, her red lips and shining 
 teeth. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus held the door and stood back. 
 He expected her to fly forth, snapping and 
 snarling like a spiteful; clog. He feared for his 
 shins, and therefore held a stick for protection. 
 But Joanna came forth composedly, without a 
 word. 
 
 ' I must confess,' said the pawnbroker, re- 
 assured, 'you do look like a little devil.' I 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 COUKT EOYAL 
 
 don't think you could come it more natural, 
 got up for tlie occasion with theatrical pro- 
 perties.' 
 
 ' I am not a little devil,' said the girl, stand- 
 ing in the midst of the kitchen, and looking at 
 Mr. Lazarus. ' I am a girl ; I am not bad, I 
 am good ; I am gold, not brass ; I am not idle, 
 I work hard ; I rise early ; I break nothing ; I 
 knit ; I sew ; I cook ; I scream. Where is 
 my mother ? Is she gone ? ' 
 
 ' Gone, gone right away on end. She has 
 pawned you to me for seven years ; raised ten 
 shillings on you — more than you are worth, if 
 coined.' 
 
 ' I am worth more than ten shillings ; I 
 am worth ten pounds.' 
 
 ' You understand you can't go to mother ; 
 you are pawned. If your mother does not 
 come back in seven years, then you fall to me 
 altogether as my own. Do you understand? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said the girl. ; Mother has pawned 
 everything else she had down to me. Now is 
 my turn. I will stay.' 
 
 ' Your number is six hundred and seventeen. 
 Look in my ledger ; there you are till cancelled. 
 Why did you scream so horribly ? ' 
 
 ' Because I wanted to be with mother/
 
 LAZARUS 35 
 
 ' And now you are content to remain with 
 me?' 
 
 ' I am pawned ; I can't help myself. Mother 
 has raised the money on me. I must stay 
 till she returns with the ticket and the half- 
 sovereign.' 
 
 ' And the interest — the interest at ten per 
 cent.,' insisted Mr. Lazarus. 
 
 ' I know nothing about that,' said the girl. 
 4 1 will stay till mother brings the money. I 
 cannot help myself.' 
 
 ' Come along, you squalling cockatoo,' said 
 the pawnbroker; 'I will show you over the 
 place, and tell you what your work will be. 
 This is the kitchen.' 
 
 { And that is your nose. I have eyes. You 
 wouldn't make me believe this a parlour if you 
 swore to it.' 
 
 4 You are a queer imp.' 
 
 4 I am good,' said the girl. 4 I will cook 
 the dinner, and then you will say the same.' 
 
 4 No waste of coals here,' observed Lazarus 
 gravely. 4 To think of the profligate waste 
 among the rich ! The tons of coal they burn ; 
 nothing to show for it but smoke and ashes ! 
 I never turned a penny by coals in all my life, 
 never.' 
 
 D 2
 
 OO COURT ROYAL 
 
 4 1 have,' said Joanna. 
 
 1 I shall be glad to hear how } r ou managed 
 that.' 
 
 * It was this way. We'd a little garden ran 
 down to the water, where the coal- barges went 
 by. I corked an empty soda-water bottle and 
 hung it to the branch of an apple-tree. When 
 the bargemen went by they couldn't hold off 
 having a shy at the bottle, and they shied 
 lumps of coal. I went out every day with a 
 shovel. We kept the kitchen fire with that 
 bottle, and the beauty was she never broke. 
 Couldn't, you understand, because her swung 
 when hit.' 
 
 Lazarus looked at the child with admira- 
 tion. 'Beautiful! upon my word, beautiful! 
 You are a genius, Six hundred and seventeen. 
 Follow me.' 
 
 He led her into the shop. 'There,' he 
 said, ' you sleep under the counter. There are 
 blankets about to make a bed of. Only mind 
 everything goes back into place in the morning ; 
 nothing torn, and no tickets off.' 
 
 4 1 understand.' 
 
 4 Look at me. You see I hold a stick that I've 
 been whittling. Not out of ornament, I tell you, 
 but for use. Now rack your brains for a reason.'
 
 LAZARUS 3' 
 
 ' To lick me with,' said the girl. 
 
 ' Hit it, Six hundred and seventeen. If you 
 tear, break, or waste anything, this stick will 
 be a paintbrush to your back, making you like 
 an ancient Briton, blue and yellow. Now 
 look at this stick. You don't suppose I whittle 
 and shape it for such as you ; you ain't worth 
 the exertion.' 
 
 ' You thought me worth ten bob, or you 
 wouldn't have given it,' said the child. 
 
 c You worth ten shillings ! ' sneered the Jew ; 
 ' not a bit. Your mother gave her gold ring 
 as well ; that was worth six.' 
 
 1 "Well, then, I'm valued at four.' 
 
 ' Four ! You're worth nothing. I reckoned 
 on your clothes and boots.' 
 
 8 My boots are scat at the sides, and wore 
 out at the soles. They are fit for nothing but 
 making soup. My clothes are that dirty with 
 mud and coals that they'll never wash clean 
 
 again. 
 
 ' What, given to argufying, are you ? ' ex- 
 claimed the pawnbroker. 'No more of that 
 with me. Hook up the steps, if you please, 
 you blackbeetle. I must find you a change 
 somehow.' 
 
 He made her ascend a set of dark steps
 
 38 COURT ROYAL 
 
 into an upper story. There they went through 
 three rooms, full as they could hold of various 
 goods, old furniture, clocks, china, mattresses, 
 looking-glasses, military accoutrements, uni- 
 forms, muffs, jackets, gowns, nautical instru- 
 ments, books, tools. 
 
 ' There,' said he, pointing above him with 
 his stick, ' you see all these garments. This is 
 the uniform of a general, that of an admiral. 
 Here are sable and sealskin jackets, rabbitskin 
 ermine opera cloaks, silk dresses for servant 
 maids, and cotton prints for ladies, linen jackets 
 of dockmen, worsted jerseys of sailors. These 
 must all be hung on yokes. They accumulate. 
 Unless exposed they don't attract attention. I 
 fashion the yokes and pegs on which they 
 hang. That is what I was whittling at. I 
 always have one in hand. I have one great 
 enemy with which to battle. These clothes 
 don't eat, but they get eaten. The moth is my 
 enemy. I said he was a great one, but really 
 he's a very little one. Bless me ! what valuable 
 time is wasted at whack, whack, whack ! with 
 a bamboo to drive the moth out of the cloth 
 and fur. I've tried camphor ; I've tried bitter 
 apple; I've tried pepper. Nothing answers 
 but the bamboo. Now you know what will be
 
 LAZARUS 39 
 
 one of your regular duties — duties ! pleasures, 
 exercises. You will have to beat the clothes 
 every clay for a couple of hours. If after this 
 I find a moth I'll beat you, whack, whack, 
 whack, with the bamboo, till I've beat the 
 laziness out of you. You are intelligent. You 
 can understand plain English, I suppose ? ' 
 
 Joanna nodded. 
 
 4 You will have to work hard in this house,' 
 said Mr. Lazarus further. He had beaten a 
 carpet to illustrate his meaning, and raised a 
 cloud of dust that made him couo-h. ' No idle- 
 ness is tolerated here. No spare hours are 
 given during which you may slip into mischief. 
 Not much food to fire the blood and make you 
 want it. You will rise at five and get me a 
 cup of coffee. No lighting of fires, mind. The 
 coffee is made in an Etna. Then you beat the 
 clothes in the back yard till the shop opens. 
 About noon the fire is kindled and dinner is 
 cooked for me. You can eat what I leave. 
 There is often gravy in which to sop bread. 
 Gravy is nourishing. I don't consume it all 
 myself. I am not greedy. Children only are 
 greedy. In the afternoon you mind the shop, 
 and mend what clothes are torn. About five 
 o'clock I shall want a cup of tea. I take bread
 
 40 COURT ROYAL 
 
 and cheese for supper at nine. My teeth are 
 bad. I don't eat the crusts and rinds ; you may 
 have them, and be grateful. There are many 
 poor children with less. I had forgotten. You 
 must have a change of clothes.' He looked care- 
 fully about among the female garments . ' There,' 
 said he, ' I don't think I could dispose of these 
 traps ; the} 7 are much worn. I bought 'em 
 cheap ; came off a girl as died of scarlet fever. 
 Look sharp ; go behind a heap of furniture, off 
 with your wet and coaly rags, and tumble into 
 these beauties. Then, if you like, you may 
 wash your face and hands at the pump. Water 
 costs no money. I allow no soap.' 
 
 Joanna did not take many minutes in chang- 
 ing. She went into the back yard — this house 
 had one — and soused her head and arms well. 
 Then she returned with the utmost promptitude 
 to her master. 
 
 ' I couldn't find a comb,' she said, ' so I 
 used a broken kitchen fork.' 
 
 1 That's right,' answered the Jew approv- 
 ingly ; ' never ask for two things when one 
 will suffice.' 
 
 Mr. Lazarus relaxed into amiability. He 
 was pleased with the ready instinct of the child 
 to meet his views.
 
 LAZARUS 41 
 
 ' Let nie tell you,' lie said, ' when you've been 
 a good girl, and worked hard and eaten next 
 to nothing, I'll allow you, as a treat, to put on 
 the general's uniform, sword, epaulette, and all ; 
 or the admiral's, with his cocked hat ; or my 
 lady's silk and ermine, bare arms and low body. 
 It will be as good as going to the play, and it 
 will air the suits also, and prevent them getting 
 mouldy.' 
 
 Joanna clapped her hands and laughed. 
 
 8 There is one thing further ' said Lazarus. 
 ' You'll have to go to bed in the dark, winter 
 and summer. I never allow waste of candle. 
 Who knows ? you might take to reading in bed 
 — under the counter — and set everything in a 
 blaze. Why, bless me ! if this establishment 
 caught, the fire would run through it. Nothing 
 in the world would arrest the flames. Now 
 you may go down-stairs. No — stay. There is 
 one point more to particularise. I spend a 
 penny every week in getting shaved, and four- 
 pence a quarter in having my hair cut. That 
 amounts to five-and-fourpence in the twelve- 
 month — clear waste, nothing to show for it. You 
 will have to learn to shave me and cut my hair. 
 Here is an old muff that the moth has played 
 the mischief with. I don't think it will sell.
 
 42 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Practise on that. Lather it first, and then 
 work along it gently with a razor. You'll soon 
 get into the way, and save me five-and-four per 
 annum. Only — mind ! Don't waste the soap ! ' 
 
 In all the many years that Emmanuel 
 Lazarus had done business he had never made 
 so good a bargain as when he took Joanna in 
 pawn. Ten shillings ! She was worth to him 
 over ten pounds a year, that is two thousand 
 per cent, interest. He soon discovered her 
 worth, and congratulated himself on having 
 secured her. 
 
 Joanna worked from grey dawn to late at 
 night harder than any day-labourer. She slept 
 under the counter, and slept so lightly that 
 at the least alarm of burglars she woke and 
 screamed loud enough to scare away the rogues, 
 arouse the neighbours, and collect the police. 
 
 She dusted the weevils out of their lurking- 
 places ; not a grub could conceal itself under 
 the felling; the bamboo reduced it to pulp. 
 Not a moth could spread wing ; it was clapped 
 to dust between her palms. Wherever, in 
 cloth, dress, or fur cloak, she spied a rent, her 
 dexterous needle mended it so neatly that it 
 remained unperceived by purchasers. She
 
 LAZARUS 43 
 
 never forgot to lock the doors, bar and bell the 
 windows, at night. Her clothing cost nothing, 
 and was always neat, so well was it washed, so 
 neatly was it mended, darned and patched. As 
 she was denied coals, she washed the house 
 linen and her own garments in cold water. 
 
 When winter set in, Joanna found means of 
 economising that had not entered the brain of 
 Lazarus. Charitable people had instituted a 
 soup-kitchen. The girl had gone thither with 
 her mother in their abject poverty. She went 
 there now clothed in rags, and brought away 
 sufficient nourishing broth to form the staple 
 of her own and her master's dinner. Some 
 potatoes and bread completed the meal. No 
 one supposed that the wretched girl with worn 
 face and appealing eyes was the maid-of-all- 
 work to the rich Jew pawnbroker and money- 
 lender of the Barbican. 
 
 Joanna had dark hair and large shining 
 dark eyes too big for her face ; the face was 
 thin and sharp, but well cut. She was but 
 twelve years old, therefore only a child ; but 
 the face was full of precocious shrewdness. 
 The eyes twinkled, gleamed, flashed. Wonder- 
 ful eyes, knowing eyes, without softness in 
 them ; eyes that saw everything, measured and
 
 44 COURT ROYAL 
 
 valued everything, that went into those she en- 
 countered and found out their weakness. Her 
 face was without colour, but the skin was clear 
 and transparent. 
 
 ' Who and what are you, my child ? ' asked 
 a charitable woman once at the soup-kitchen. 
 
 ' I'm a pawn — Six hundred and seventeen ! ' 
 she replied, and disappeared.
 
 4D 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 joanna's school. 
 
 Seven months after Joanna had been left in 
 pawn with Mr. Lazarus, the Yorkshire skipper 
 was again in Plymouth with a load of coals 
 from Groole. He came to the shop to see the 
 girl, and tell her about her mother. Captain 
 Hull — that was his name — had bad news to 
 communicate. Mrs. Eosevere had probably 
 caught cold from her immersion, when she 
 tried to drown herself, and on her voyage 
 northward had been taken ill. On reaching 
 Goole, she was carried on shore and sent to 
 the nearest hospital, where she had been pro- 
 nounced ill with rheumatic fever. 
 
 After that Mr. Hull had been to Belgium 
 for iron. There had been a strike at Middles- 
 borough, and the furnaces had been let out 
 and the ironmasters had executed their con- 
 tracts by purchasing their iron at Verviers.
 
 46 COURT ROYAL 
 
 When next Captain Hull came to Goole and 
 inquired after the woman, he learned that she 
 had been discharged, but whither she had gone, 
 and what was her present address, he was 
 unable to ascertain. Joanna was much troubled. 
 She had a tender spot in her heart. She was 
 passionately devoted to her mother. Not a 
 line had reached her from Mrs. Eosevere. 
 Whether she were alive or dead she could not 
 tell. She cried bitterly at night under the 
 counter, and could not sleep for sobs. But she 
 did not allow the skipper to see her tears. 
 She shook and turned white when he told his 
 tale, and then fled to the kitchen to conceal 
 her emotion. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said the pawnbroker, when she had 
 disappeared, c this is my fate. I advanced ten 
 shillings on the child, and now she is thrown on 
 my hands. This is the second time this sort of 
 thing has occurred — before it was white mice.' 
 
 4 What about the white mice ? ' 
 
 'I advanced money on a couple of white 
 mice to a schoolboy, and was not repaid. I 
 had to feed those mice for weeks, and they cost 
 me a fortune. I put them in the window, but, 
 though it brought all the Barbican children to
 
 joanna's school 47 
 
 the glass, there came no buyer. At last I was 
 forced to drown them, to be rid of the daily 
 burden of their maintenance. The law won't 
 let me deal like that with children. I'll never 
 advance money on live animals again — never. 
 I've been bitten twice, once by the mice, now 
 by the girl. Ten shillings ! I gave a half- 
 sovereign in gold. I shall never see the colour 
 of the coin again.' 
 
 'Now, Mr. Lazarus, speak nobut the truth. 
 You gave ne'er a penny in cash. It was all 
 took out in clothes.' 
 
 6 Was it ? Dear me, I had forgot. Well, 
 it does not matter. I made a bad bargain. 
 The creature eats with a voracity perfectly ap- 
 palling. Did you ever see a cow or a horse in 
 a meadow, how it goes on, never stopping? 
 It is just the same with this child. The cost of 
 her food is frightful, the cost of her clothes 
 sickening. She outgrows her dresses as fast as 
 they are fitted on her. Why did I take her ? 
 Why was I such a fool ? This is what comes 
 of having a feeling heart. Take her away, 
 Mr. Hull, take her away, chuck her as ballast 
 into the bilge-water in your hold. I've had her 
 seven months, now it is your turn.'
 
 48 COURT ROYAL 
 
 I — I ! ' stammered the good-natured skipper, 
 ' I am nae responsible for t' little lass.' 
 
 ' You are. You sent her here. You 
 persuaded the mother to put her with me, and 
 offered her a place in your vessel. As you took 
 the mother, you're part bound for the child. 
 Now I've had enough of her gorging herself on 
 butcher's meat, and swilling bottled ale, and 
 burning candles at both ends, and flaunting in 
 silks and satins.' 
 
 8 None so much o' t' latter, I take it, Mr. 
 Lazarus.' 
 
 ' Only on Sundays, I allow. But, consider, 
 Mr. Hull, a child can neither be clothed in nor 
 on nothing. You, by the cut of you, I take to 
 be a married man, and know what the cost of 
 dressing children comes to.' 
 
 1 This is but one bairn.' 
 
 1 I know that ; but this child is a girl, and 
 girls cost more in clothes than boys/ 
 
 ' Shoo works for you.' 
 
 ' Works ! Not she — loiters about the Bar- 
 bican playing with the boys and girls at hop- 
 scotch and prisoners' base. Works ! I've paid 
 for her schooling.' 
 
 1 Does she go to t' National school ? ' 
 
 ' National school ! ' jeered the Jew. ' A
 
 joaxna's school 49 
 
 first-rate private schcol. She is slow at learning. 
 I wish I could extract from her sufficient work 
 to pay for her schooling. Take her away. I'll 
 turn her out of doors if you don't. Not under 
 half-a-sovereign would I consent to retain her.' 
 
 Mr. Hull considered for a while, then thrust 
 his hand into his pocket and drew forth some 
 money. ' If this be but a matter o' brass,' he 
 said, ' take it. But I tell thee, I don't acknow- 
 ledge the responsibility.' 
 
 ' Very well,' said the Jew, ' I've a feeling 
 heart, and I accept the trifle. It don't cover 
 her breakages. I had as beautiful a pair of 
 Oriental jars as you might wish to see. They 
 were worth fifty pounds. The child knocked 
 one over with a broom. What did she have a 
 broom in her hand for ? Cobwebs ! Cobwebs 
 don't hurt. Spiders break no china. Brooms 
 does. ISTow there is but one jar remaining, and 
 that is worth seven-and-six, because the pair is 
 broken. That is a loss to a poor man. Take 
 seven-and-six from fifty pounds, and it leaves 
 forty - nine pounds twelve-and-six. You wouldn't 
 like to lose forty- nine pounds twelve-and-six of 
 a morning, would you, Mr. Hull? You see 
 what sacrifices one makes through having a 
 feeling heart. Mr. Hull, I'll take the money, 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 COURT ROYAL 
 
 and set it off against the breakages : you con- 
 tribute ten shillings and I forty-nine pounds 
 twelve-and-six.' 
 
 Mr. Hull grew red, and fumbled in his 
 pocket. ' Dang it ! ' said he, ' here's another 
 half-sovereign.' 
 
 ' Thank you, captain, thank you. You 
 understand, it don't release her from pawn. The 
 mother pawned her, and has the ticket.' 
 
 ' Oh, I don't want t' bairn out. Keep her 
 till her mother redeems her. I'm a'most feared 
 though t' old lass is dead. Shoo were but a 
 weakly creetur' at best.' 
 
 6 I'll keep her till then,' said Lazarus, and 
 added to himself, ' I wouldn't do without her 
 for five-and-twenty pounds.' 
 
 As Mr. Lazarus said, Joanna was at school, 
 and the school was the private establishment of 
 Mr. Lazarus, in which he was head and second 
 master and usher rolled into one, and in which 
 she was the only scholar. Consequently on her 
 was concentrated the full teaching power of the 
 academy. She knew her letters and could sum 
 when she came there, but her knowledge of 
 men and the world was rudimentary. This was 
 the speciality of Mr. Lazarus's teaching. Under 
 his tuition she rapidly acquired an insight into
 
 JOANNAS SCHOOL 51 
 
 the shady ways of the world, and acquaintance 
 with the skeletons in the cupboards of a good 
 many houses in Plymouth. 
 
 Joanna also gained insight into her master's 
 business, and unfolded a remarkable aptitude 
 for it. The business was one that ramified 
 in all directions, a fungous, cancerous growth 
 with fibres extracting nutriment from every 
 social bed. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus visited extravagant ladies at 
 their homes, and lent them money on their dia- 
 monds. He gave out coppers on the flat-irons 
 of drunken washerwomen. He took the gold 
 repeaters of officers and the tools of artisans. 
 He lent money on bills of sale, notes of 
 hand, and post-obits. He was yielding about 
 renewals. 
 
 The house was crowded from garret to 
 cellar with articles of every description on which 
 money had been advanced, or which had been 
 seized in default of payment. A retentive 
 memory was in demand to recollect where any- 
 thing was, when wanted by a depositor, who 
 came, money in hand, to release it ; to know 
 what pledges had lapsed, and when, without 
 hunting; them out of the ledger. 
 
 Dealers of various kinds visited Mr. Lazarus : 
 
 .^ITYOFILLir.010
 
 52 COURT ROYAL 
 
 slop-shop men to purchase a lot of secondhand 
 clothing, curiosity dealers to overhaul his china 
 and engravings, jewellers for his watches and 
 rings and bracelets, furniture-makers to buy up 
 cracked mahogany- veneered chests of drawers 
 for conversion into Florentine antiques by coat- 
 ing them with Dutch marquetry. 
 
 Thus the goods in Mr. Lazarus's establish- 
 ment went into circulation. Old things went 
 and new came. But there always remained 
 some deposit which no tide swept away, and 
 which lay as a burden on the Jew's mind. The 
 articles occupied space and were unsaleable. 
 Joanna applied her mind to the solution of 
 this difficulty, and showed a rare sagacity in 
 converting them into usable, and therefore sale- 
 able goods, and thus launching them. 
 
 As Joanna grew up and grew into the busi- 
 ness, she exhibited a rare talent in negotiating 
 with botli sellers and purchasers. She did not 
 become the right hand of Lazarus, only be- 
 cause he had no right hand. Even he, with 
 his long experience, was unable to surpass her 
 in disparagement of articles offered, in shaming 
 a poor pledger into yielding them for a trifle. 
 The expressions she threw into her face, the 
 scorn that quivered in her finger-tips, the keen-
 
 JOAXXAS SCHOOL 06 
 
 ness of eyesight that overlooked no defect, 
 cowed the spirit of the pledger, and took the 
 value out of the piece of goods before a word 
 was spoken. On the other hand, in treating 
 with dealers, her genius was equally conspicu- 
 ous. She praised the articles, dexterously dis- 
 guised their defects, flattered and cajoled the 
 purchasers, and sent them away to find that they 
 had been overreached. But what delighted 
 Joanna especially was to have to do with an 
 amateur antiquary or china fancier : then she 
 became simplicity itself, profoundly ignorant of 
 the real value of rare articles, and she sent the 
 greenhorns off deluding themselves that they 
 had secured treasures ' in a poky out-of-the-way 
 odds-and-ends shop,' when they had paid heavy 
 gold for utter rubbish. 
 
 Joanna, as has been said, developed admir- 
 able skill in turning unsaleable goods into 
 articles of commerce. We give one instance- 
 Mr. Lazarus was unable to resist the temptation 
 of purchasing, at a low figure, a large number 
 of scarlet uniforms slightly damaged and dis- 
 coloured. No one would buy the red-cloth 
 jackets. Joanna unpicked them, sent them into 
 the dye vat, and with a pair of scissors and a 
 needle and black thread converted them into
 
 54 COURT ROYAL 
 
 fashionable short coats. The breast of one 
 made the tail of another. 
 
 The demand for Mr. Lazarus's Kinking, 
 Lome, and Brighton suits, at a price with 
 which the ready-made dealers could not com- 
 pete, soon exceeded the supply. 
 
 When one of H.M.'s vessels was put in 
 commission the mess was furnished with new 
 linen, plate, china, glass. When discharged — 
 sometimes at the end of a few months — every- 
 thing was sold off at miserably low prices. 
 Mr. Lazarus was a large and constant purchaser 
 at these sales. Sometimes he took the entire 
 lot in a lump, by negotiation, without auction. 
 Then he and Joanna went over all the acquisi- 
 tions with care. The markings were removed 
 from the linen. If the table-cloths were much 
 cut, they were converted into napkins ; if 
 slightly injured, Joanna darned and disguised 
 the cuts. The plate was subjected to much 
 polishing, till it bore the appearance of new, 
 or was redipped and sold as new — possibly to 
 the same vessel when recommissioned. The 
 glass was sorted into complete lots ; the knives 
 and china found their way among the poor. 
 
 In their views of life Joanna and her 
 master agreed perfectly ; but then Joanna's
 
 JOANNAS SCHOOL 55 
 
 mind had been formed by Mr. Lazarus, and 
 she drank in his doctrines as freely as he let 
 her drink water. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus was a conscientious man in a 
 way. He instructed Joanna in morals. He 
 taught her that great sin would lie at her door 
 if she acted towards himself dishonestly, and 
 untruthfully and wastefully. 
 
 They had ample opportunity for exchang- 
 ing ideas whilst feather-picking. 
 
 The pawnbroker received many pillows and 
 bed-tyes as pledges. When he did so he slit 
 them at a seam, put in his hand and extracted 
 feathers ; from a pillow he withdrew one hand- 
 ful, from a bed four. In their place he put 
 hay, so as not to alter their weight. Then 
 Joanna sewed up the seams so neatly that it 
 could not be told they had been opened ; and 
 the feathers were stored in chests to be sold at 
 tenpence per pound. Whilst thus engaged 
 Joanna and her master discussed the world, the 
 profligacy of the rich, the meanness of the poor, 
 the greed of rival pawnbrokers, the universal 
 corruption of men and morals. 
 
 What was the world coming to, when 
 debtors bolted to America, and when those on 
 whose furniture Mr. Lazarus had made ad-
 
 56 COURT EOYAL 
 
 vances ' flitted ' by moonlight, leaving him out 
 of pocket, without power of recovery ? What 
 was the world coming to, when the police 
 poked their noses into his shop, and found there 
 stolen goods, which they carried off, in spite of 
 his having paid hard cash for them, or were ex- 
 tortionate in their demand for palm-greasing, 
 to overlook the purchases? What was the 
 world coming to, when charitable institutions 
 were allowed to come to the aid of the dis- 
 tressed — clothing-clubs, coal-clubs, savings' 
 banks — and hold them back from flying to their 
 proper refuge, the Golden Balls ? What was 
 the world coming to, when the Jews were 
 becoming so numerous and so unscrupulous as 
 to interfere with one another's business ? And 
 what was the world coming to, when Gentiles 
 were becoming a match for Jews in plucking 
 the geese, and shearing the silly sheep, that 
 asked to be plucked and shorn ? 
 
 Thus Joanna grew up under this schooling, 
 and the teaching became the grain of her mind. 
 There was natural aptitude to receive it, but 
 the aptitude was that of an active, eager, in- 
 telligent mind, ready to assimilate any instruc- 
 tion given it, with daily opportunity for testing 
 and exercising it.
 
 joanna's school 57 
 
 She was entirely without sympathy with 
 her fellows. She looked upon men as the 
 prey on which the clever lived ; they were fair 
 game when brought within reach through ne- 
 cessity or imbecility. Of human nature she 
 had a low opinion, but she was brought into 
 contact with no noble specimens. 
 
 Lazarus was without tenderness towards 
 her ; she grew up with no one to love, no one 
 to love her, consequently there was no sym- 
 pathy, pity, softness about her. The one 
 leading motive of Lazarus's life seemed to be 
 Individualism. He thought, worked only for 
 himself. He concerned himself about no one ; 
 he was indifferent to the sufferings of mankind. 
 His code of ethics was based on self. That 
 was right which did him good, that was wrong 
 which did him harm. He insisted to Joanna 
 that the secret of success lay in rigidly attend- 
 ing to self-interest ; that the failures of men 
 were due to their yielding to their good-nature, 
 to their vibration between self-interest and the 
 care for others. 
 
 Thus passed several years. Joanna grew 
 in stature, and her mind accommodated itself to 
 what was exacted of it. She became indispen- 
 sable to her master, but he was too shrewd
 
 58 COURT ROYAL 
 
 to let her see how highly he appreciated her. 
 No further news reached the Barbican about 
 her mother. The skipper no more returned to 
 Plymouth. 
 
 Still Joanna clung to the belief that her 
 mother lived, and would return and redeem 
 her before the lapse of the seven years.
 
 59 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 CRUDGE, SOLICITOR. 
 
 One evening, after Mr. Lazarus had shut up 
 shop, his private door-bell was wrung sharply. 
 Joanna answered it, but opened only so much 
 of the door as allowed a portion of her face to 
 appear, whilst she inquired the name and busi- 
 ness of the visitor at so unwonted an hour. 
 
 ' Crudge,' answered the caller ; c Crudge, 
 solicitor. Come, open, and let me in. Here 
 is my card.' 
 
 ; Crudge, is it ? ' exclaimed Lazarus, who 
 was behind the girl. ' Let in Mr. Crudge, 
 Joanna, and don't keep him there under the 
 drip of the door. Can't you see that it is rain- 
 ing, and that he has on his best hat? Joanna, 
 be careful, lock and chain after the gentleman.' 
 
 Lazarus backed, bowing before his visitor, 
 till he backed against a wall ; then he stood 
 hesitating, looking about him, doubtful whither 
 to conduct Mr. Crudge.
 
 60 COUIIT KOYAL 
 
 ' Keally, sir,' said the Jew, ' I am sorry to 
 see you in so unworthy a den ; but a shop is 
 not the rose-garden of Gulistan, and the seat 
 of business is not the lap of luxury. Where 
 shall we go? Will you condescend to step 
 into the kitchen ? ' 
 
 ' Anywhere you like,' answered the lawyer. 
 6 No ceremony with me. Give me a chair to 
 sit on, and a light by which to find one. I 
 want no more/ 
 
 ' There is a nice easy arm-chair, leather 
 covered, witli springs in the seat ; but it is up- 
 stairs. It would take a quarter of an hour 
 to get it down. Besides, Inchbairs 'British 
 Theatre,' in twenty-five vols, half-bound, the 
 rest in paper parts, occupy the seat. Time, 
 Mr. Grudge, is too precious a commodity with 
 you to let us think of that thin buoj-ant-seated 
 chair.' 
 
 6 1 will content myself with one that is 
 cane-bottomed,' said Mr. Crudge. 
 
 ' I'm afraid I must ask you to take one 
 that teas cane-bottomed, but is now sat through, 
 but will be re-caned in a fortnight,' said the 
 Jew apologetically. ' If you don't mind taking 
 a place between the preterite and the future 
 tenses, nothing can be better. It is not so far
 
 CRUDGE, SOLICITOR 61 
 
 gone that you will slip through. I will put a 
 bakiug-tray from the oven over the hole, aud 
 then you will run no risk. Don't be afraid of 
 grease. Nothing fatty ever goes into my oven. 
 If you shirk it, take the dustpan.' 
 
 Mr. Crudge did not, however, relish the 
 appearance of the chair offered him, or the 
 kitchen into which he was introduced. He re- 
 mained standing. Joanna entered after barring 
 the door. 
 
 ' I want to see you in private,' he said ; ' I 
 have come on business. We may need a table, 
 and pens and ink. Besides,' he added, ' the 
 place is full of feathers, and I don't want my 
 coat covered with down.' 
 
 Mr. Lazarus laughed. ' Joanna has been 
 plucking geese. Eoast goose for dinner to- 
 morrow. I would invite you to partake, Mr. 
 Crudge, but your time is precious, and my 
 house ill-suited as a place of entertainment. 
 Plenty of goose-plucking done in this establish- 
 ment, my dear sir, I assure you.' 
 
 No goose was visible, not even a fowl, but 
 bolsters and pillows strewed the floor, and 
 Mr. Crudge had to step over them by the 
 light of a tallow candle stuck in the neck of a 
 broken brandy bottle.
 
 62 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' If I might be allowed to propose,' said 
 Lazarus, 'I would suggest your following me 
 into my sanctum sanctorum. There we can 
 talk together alone. Not that Joanna is to 
 be considered. Step this w T ay, Mr. Grudge. 
 Joanna, let me have the light. You must sit 
 in the dark, and pluck the goose after the 
 gentleman is gone. Take care, Mr. Crudge, 
 solicitor, there is a broken slate in the floor. 
 Kick that bolster aside, it lies in your way. 
 Don't strike your head against this butcher's 
 steel-yard. Mind the floor ; there is a dozen 
 of mineral water ranged along the wall. You 
 may notice an unpleasant savour. It is oc- 
 casioned by nothing more than a dead rat. 
 Overrun with them ; so near the water ; and I 
 have poisoned them. They die in their holes, 
 and under floors and behind wainscots. In a 
 fortnight the smell will be gone. Here, sir, is 
 my little room. You will excuse the bed 
 being in it. Here is a seat for you, Mr. Crudge. 
 It may be peculiar, but it is not uncomfortable. 
 In fact, it is an old sedan-chair with the front 
 knocked out. If you will look round the 
 room you will see sedan-chairs let in between 
 the presses. I got a stock of them, when they 
 went out of fashion, and lay rotting in a yard.
 
 CRUDGE, SOLICITOR 63 
 
 They canie in handy, fitted with shelves for 
 keeping sundries, my papers, and poor valuables. 
 One I use as a chair. I sit on it at the table. 
 The sides cut off draughts. I'll turn it round. 
 I can seat myself on the bed, if you will 
 condescend to occupy the sedan-chair.' 
 
 Mr. Crudge looked about him. The room 
 was small, lighted by day through a window, 
 half of which was blocked up. Under the 
 window was a table strewn with strips of 
 paper, numbered — tickets to be affixed to 
 pledges. Ink was in a broken liqueur-glass 
 stuck into a cup full of shot. In an old dirty 
 marmalacle-pot was paste, and a brush. The 
 paste was sour and watery. Against the wall 
 on one side was a bedstead with a straw mat- 
 tress on it, and a feather-bed to which hung 
 a ticket. The bolster was labelled 145, the 
 coverlet 374. Probably there were tickets to 
 the blankets, but these Mr. Crudge did not see. 
 Apparently no sheets were on the bed. Out 
 of economy Lazarus used pledged goods ; it 
 saved the wear of what was his own. In the 
 recesses on each side of the chimney were 
 sedan-chairs, converted into cupboards. One 
 was filled with bottles — laudanum, ipecacuanha, 
 castor-oil, &c.
 
 64 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' All ! ' said Lazarus, marking the direction 
 of his guest's eye. ' That was a bad bargain. 
 Never able to dispose of this lot. Taken from 
 a chemist. If either Joanna or I had been ill, 
 and could have used some of them, the loss 
 would not have been so dead. I keep 'em 
 here, safe, as some of the lot may be poison.' 
 
 On the tops of the presses and sedan-chairs 
 were boots, bottles, and crockery. On the 
 chimneypiece were Chelsea figures. On a stool 
 beside the table lay a scrap of newspaper, in 
 which were a couple of onions and some salt. 
 
 Mr. Lazarus put the candle on the table, 
 turned the chair about, and insisted on ensconc- 
 ing the solicitor in it, Then he seated himself 
 on the bed opposite his visitor. 
 
 Mr. Grudge was a tall, well-dressed man, of 
 middle age, with reddish-brown hair. He wore 
 whiskers and a moustache, but had his chin 
 and jaw shaven below the moustache. He had 
 grey eyes and a pair of bushy reddish eyebrows. 
 His face expressed intelligence without imagina- 
 tion ; it was a strong, practical, business face. 
 His manner was that of a gentleman, easy and 
 possessed. He took his place in the sedan- 
 chair without a twitch of the muscles of his 
 mouth. He was as insensible to the ludicrous
 
 GRUDGE, SOLICITOR 65 
 
 as he was to poetry. Yet the situation was 
 eminently grotesque. The sedan-chair had a 
 roof and glass windows at the sides. It was 
 open only in front, and Mr. Crudge was planted, 
 as in a sentry-box, face to face with the Jew, 
 sitting on the bed, with his legs folded like 
 those of a Turk. 
 
 k Now, 5 said Mr. Lazarus, ' let us proceed to 
 business. Something of importance must have 
 occurred to bring you here at such a time.' 
 
 ' Xot at all,' answered Mx. Crudge. ' Nothing 
 of vital importance that I am aware.' 
 
 ' Then why have you come ? ' exclaimed 
 Lazarus, dropping his legs over the side of the 
 bed. ' Surely a letter would have sufficed. I 
 could have run up to town to see you. You have 
 travelled first class ; I would have gone third. 
 You are not going to charge me for your time 
 and trainage ? ' 
 
 4 Make yourself easy,' said the lawyer. ' I 
 had to come to Plymouth on other business than 
 yours, and as I was here, I thought best to give 
 you a call at a time when I knew you would 
 be disengaged. I am staying at the Eoyal. I 
 did my business during the afternoon, had my 
 dinner, and then strolled down here.' 
 
 Lazarus breathed freely. ' You gave me a 
 
 VOL. I. f
 
 6 J COURT ROYAL 
 
 scare,' he said. ' What an expense I should 
 have been put to ! Staying at the Eoyal ! 
 wouldn't a commercial inn have done as well ? 
 However, the other client pays, so it does not 
 matter.' 
 
 ' Not at all to you,' said Mr. Crudge with 
 composure. ' I know your idiosyncrasies, and 
 accommodate myself to them.' 
 
 ' Quite so. When you act for bloated pluto- 
 crats, make them pay. Letting off blood does 
 them good. When you act for poor hard-work- 
 ing labourers like myself, cut the expenses down. 
 Our blood is watery.' 
 
 ' Enough on a topic that leads to nothing,' 
 said Mr. Crudge. ' You can guess what has 
 brought me hither.' 
 
 ' I am afraid to guess. Is it the affairs of the 
 Duke ? ' 
 
 Crudge nodded. 
 
 ' How do matters stand ? ' 
 
 ' That depends on the point of view from 
 which the coup cVoeil is taken. From yours, 
 excellent ; from theirs, desperate. The family 
 are constantly in want of money — renewing, 
 mortgaging, and there must be a crash shortly. 
 Now they want about five thousand towards 
 finishing them.'
 
 67 
 
 1 Finishing them ! Finishing for ever the 
 great Kingsbridge family ! Breaking down 
 his most noble and exalted mightiness the Mar- 
 quess of Saltcombe ! Sweeping away, clearing 
 away, and utterly effacing ' — he jumped off the 
 bed, and with the tail of his dirty coat brushed 
 the table — s clearing away and utterly effacing 
 the most gracious and ancient Eveleighs ! ' 
 
 ' Mr. Lazarus,' said the solicitor coldly, 
 craning his neck out of the box to watch the 
 proceedings of the pawnbroker, ' pray observe 
 that you have upset the ink and paste over 
 the table in your effort to clean it. Instead 
 of mending, you have messed the table.' 
 
 4 I do not care. My fancy ran away with 
 me. I am an Oriental, a child of the sun, with 
 a rich imagination that flashes into poetry. 
 What care I about these noble mushrooms ? 
 They date from the Conquest, but what is the 
 Conquest to us? An affair of yesterday. I 
 have done. Go on. They want more money, 
 do they ? ' He reascended the bed, and sat 
 on it with legs depending over the side. 
 
 1 The end must come ; it is inevitable,' said 
 the solicitor. ' Everything is in your hands. 
 You may bring the walls about their ears when 
 you will. If you choose we can proceed to 
 
 r 2
 
 G8 COURT ROYAL 
 
 extremities at once. Nothing can save them. 
 Yon are practically the sole creditor, for yon 
 have got the home mortgages into your own 
 hands. You have no rivals to contend against. 
 The estate must be sold, and if you choose to 
 become possessor of Court Eoyal you may.' 
 
 Lazarus rubbed his hands, and crowed, rather 
 than laughed. 
 
 ' 1 — I have the estates ! What good would 
 they do to me ? I set up as a grand English 
 squire ! Not I. That is not my ambition. I 
 have Court Eoyal ! I could not keep it up.' 
 
 ' Well, there is no accounting for tastes. For 
 the coup cle grace we must have five thousand 
 pounds. As usual, I suppose, the money is to 
 go through a third party, so that your name 
 may not appear ? I will manage that. I sup- 
 pose some debts are pressing, and the usual 
 annual expense is becoming burdensome — that 
 is the occasion of this fresh demand. ' 
 
 ' Mr. Crudge,' said the Jew, c you seem con- 
 fident tli at the end is near. I do not share 
 your confidence. A great house like that of 
 the Duke of Kingsbridge will not go to pieces 
 all at once. It has its supports, on all sides, in 
 rich and powerful families. When the rumour 
 spreads that the Kingsbridge house is trembling,
 
 CRUDGE, SOLICITOR 69 
 
 the noble relations from all parts will hasten to 
 uphold it. There are a thousand means to 
 which such a family may have recourse, inac- 
 cessible to such as us. They are like a tent 
 pegged all round into the soil, and if this or that 
 guy snaps what does it matter ? — the rest will 
 hold.' 
 
 ' Who are to help them ? The central pole 
 of your tent is sawn through, and the guys will 
 not uphold a fallen and flapping mass of rag. 
 They stay it while upright, but are worthless 
 when it is down.' 
 
 ' But the house is not down yet. Why, 
 Lord Edward is rector of a fat Somersetshire 
 living, an archdeacon, and Canon of Glas- 
 tonbury.' 
 
 6 He may be worth some twelve hundred at 
 the outside. He cannot help. Besides, he is 
 already in debt. Lord Eonald, the general, 
 has only his half pay.' 
 
 ' But the family of the late Duchess ? ' 
 
 ' They will do nothing. However, I do 
 not see in what way their fall can concern you, 
 so long as you save your shekels. Whether 
 the survivors of the wreck come to land or 
 sink — that is nothing to you or me.' 
 
 ' Nothing to me ! ' exclaimed the Jew, jump-
 
 70 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ing off the bed and pacing the room. ' Nothing 
 to me ! It is everything to me. What do I 
 care for money except as a means whereby I 
 may lever them over, and throw them in the 
 dirt under my feet ? ' He stopped abruptly, 
 thinking he had said too much, and looked at 
 the solicitor out of the corners of his eyes ; but 
 Mr. Grudge was leaning back in the sedan-chair, 
 and Lazarus could see only his profile in shadow 
 through the glass side. 
 
 ' You speak as though you entertained a 
 spite against the family,' he said — c as though 
 you were moving in this matter, actuated by 
 revenge for some personal wrong. But that is 
 impossible. What can you, the mole that 
 burrows at the root of the social tree, have 
 against the purple emperor butterfly who flutters 
 about its very top on shining wing ? The dis- 
 tance between you is too great for you ever to 
 have come in contact.' 
 
 ' To be sure, I have expressed myself over- 
 strongly. My feeling is not personal, it is 
 political.' 
 
 4 Oh ! ' said the lawyer. ' Now I understand.' 
 
 6 Of course you understand. Political feel- 
 ings fire the passions as surely as personal 
 wrongs.'
 
 CRUDGE, SOLICITOR 71 
 
 * To be sure they do,' said Crudge, with in- 
 difference. 
 
 After a pause, Lazarus got off his bed and 
 said, ' If five thousand more is necessary, you 
 shall have the sum. I have waded too deep 
 into the morass to think of retreat ; I must 
 wade on. Tell me candidly : in your opinion, 
 is there no salvation for them ? ' 
 
 ' That I will not say. There is a desperate 
 resource. The Marquess may marry an heiress, 
 and with her fortune disencumber the pro- 
 perty.' 
 
 ' He is capable of doiug it,' cried Lazarus 
 in great excitement. ' He will do it ; curses 
 be upon him ! Why, any American plutocrat, 
 or Liverpool merchant, or Londou corn-factor 
 would throw his millions into the Kin^sbrid^e 
 chat-moss to make a way over it for his 
 daughter to win a coronet. The Marquess is 
 only forty, is a handsome man — that will be 
 the checkmate they will play ! ' 
 
 ' The Marquess is forty, as you say, or 
 thereabouts. He has been languidly looking 
 out for heiresses these ten years, but heiresses 
 don't fly into your mouth like roast partridges 
 in the land of Cockaigne. He must stalk them . 
 He must make efforts to find them. However,
 
 72 COURT ROYAL 
 
 that is no concern of mine. All I have to look 
 to is your pecuniary interest in the Kingsbridge 
 estates.' 
 
 ' Five thousand will nigh upon finish them 
 up, will it ? ' said the Jew. ; They take a deal 
 of finishing, like a painting by Meissonier. I 
 thought the last loan would have done that. 
 What is the property worth ? Have you an 
 idea P What are the old mortira^es on the 
 other estates ? ' 
 
 4 That is more than I can say. I know 
 what is owing to you. You have the mortgage 
 on the manor of Court Boyal, the sun and centre 
 
 of the whole svstem.' 
 
 «/ 
 
 Lazarus considered, then drew a key from 
 his pocket, opened an iron box walled into the 
 side of the house, and drew from it an account- 
 book and his cheque-book. 
 
 ' Now,' said Mr. Grudge, ' see the result of 
 getting excited. Yon upset the ink, and now 
 you want to use it.' 
 
 1 If you do not mind being left a moment 
 in the dark, I will fetch some ink,' answered 
 the Jew. ' I see that what lies on the table is 
 useless ; it is a flux of coalash, ink, and paste ; 
 a picture of our social system, eh. Mr. Crudge ! 
 — a mixture of messes.'
 
 73 
 
 Lazarus withdrew with the candle. 
 
 Mr. Grudge sat back in his chair and crossed 
 his legs. A very little grey light stole in 
 through the upper part of the window. 
 
 ■* Bah ! ' said he to himself. ' This sort of 
 people object to fresh air. What with the 
 onions, and the sour paste, and the dead rats, 
 and the pervading Levitical savour, I am as- 
 phyxiated. No washing apparatus in the room, 
 I parceive. I should have perceived it without 
 a light.' Then he heard soft steps approach. 
 The door was thrown open and feet entered 
 the rcom. In another moment a match was 
 struck and flared. Mr. Crudge, who had turned 
 his head, saw through the window of the sedan- 
 chair that the girl stood in the room. Joanna 
 came forward and held the match before his 
 face, studying him intently. She said nothing. 
 Mr. Crudge was too surprised to speak. He 
 looked at her. She was a girl of about seven- 
 teen, tall, slightly built, with olive complexion, 
 very dark hair, and large shrewd eyes. The 
 match flame repeated itself in them as red stars. 
 She had outgrown her garments, which were 
 too tight and too short. Her arms were bare. 
 She was in her stocking-soles. Her lips were 
 compressed ; she remained immovable till the
 
 74 COURT EOYAL 
 
 match burnt to her fingers ; then, instead of 
 throwing the red end on the ground, she ex- 
 tinguished it in her mouth. She said not a 
 word, but turned in the dark and went away 
 as softly as she had come. 
 
 Presently Lazarus came back with the 
 candle in one hand and a bottle of ink in the 
 other. 
 
 ' I could not remember where I had put it,' 
 he said ; ' at last I found the ink in the howdah.' 
 
 'In the what?' 
 
 c There was an elephant brought over from 
 India for a showman a few years back, and the 
 howdah was brought over with it. Sixpence a 
 ride, children half price, would soon have re- 
 couped the howdah and the beast. But it was 
 not to be. It was to be dead loss. Such is life ! 
 The elephant died on board ship, and the how- 
 dah was sold. I bought it, but have not yet 
 been able to dispose of it. Do you happen to 
 want a howdah ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly not ! ' 
 
 c You needn't pay cash down,' said the Jew. 
 'You'd deduct the howdah from your bill. 
 Perhaps you'll consult your missus about it 
 when you get home.' 
 
 The Jew put candle and ink on the table.
 
 GRUDGE, SOLICITOR /5 
 
 ' I've been considering,' lie said, ' that it 
 would be well for you to go down to Court 
 Eoyal and have a look at the place and the 
 people. Then you will be able to give me an 
 account of how the land lies. I can't go my- 
 self ; I have my loan office, as well as the shop, 
 and I can't leave the girl to manage both.' 
 
 c A queer piece of goods she seems,' said 
 the lawyer. 
 
 ' That she is ; queer here,' said the Jew, 
 touching his head ; ' an idle minx with an egre- 
 gious appetite. Eats everything, even the 
 candle-ends. But enough of her ; she has 
 nothing to do with Court Eoyal, and never will 
 have. What do you say to my proposal ? ' 
 
 ' 1 can't travel and spend valuable time 
 without proper remuneration.' 
 
 ' You shall be paid,' answered the Jew. 6 1 
 will not grudge a small sum in this instance. I 
 shall be easier in my mind when you have been 
 down to the place and taken stock of what is 
 there. You see, I've had myself to lean on 
 friends to find all the money I wanted ; if they 
 pay me — they at Court Eoyal — it is not all 
 profit. I have to pay interest also for what I 
 took up to help me to get hold of the main 
 mortgages. There,' he continued, ' is the differ-
 
 76 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ence between us Jews and you Christians. We 
 hang together like a swarm of bees, one holding 
 on by another ; and you are like a hive of 
 wasps, stinging each other, and when one 
 gathers honey the other eats it, so that their 
 combs are always empty. Will you go to Court 
 Eoyal ? ' 
 
 ' I will. Indeed, it is as well that I should 
 have a personal interview with the steward, as 
 the negotiations are carried on through him.' 
 
 ' You will travel second class, not first,' en- 
 treated Lazarus. c Money spent on the railway 
 in comfort is waste. From Kingsbridge Eoad 
 there is a coach. You will travel outside. The 
 inside places are secured several days in advance. 
 If you return the next day you need not tip the 
 driver two shillings ; eighteenpence will suffice.' 
 
 6 Very well ; I will go to morrow.'
 
 77 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY. 
 
 In the afternoon of the next day the coach 
 deposited Mr. Crndge at the principal inn of 
 Kingsbridge, ' The Duke's Arms.' After de- 
 positing his valise and securing a room, he 
 ordered a ily to take him to the steward, who, 
 he ascertained, lived out of the town, near the 
 park gates. 'An open carriage,' said Mr. 
 Grudge ; ' it don't seem likely to rain, and I like 
 to look about me.' 
 
 The drive was not a long one, through a 
 pleasant wooded vale, commanding glimpses of 
 the inlet of sea, now that the tide was flowing, 
 flushed with water. The hills and moors over 
 which the coach had run from the station had 
 been bare, and the contrast of the luxuriant 
 vegetation and stately growth of trees in the 
 hollows was therefore the more striking and 
 agreeable.
 
 78 COURT ROYAL 
 
 The carriage drew up before a neat white 
 house, with a green veranda, and roses and 
 westeria trained over it. Here lived Mr. 
 Christopher Worthivale, steward of the Duke 
 of Kingsbridge. 
 
 A maid answered the bell, and informed 
 Mr. Crudge that the steward was at home and 
 disengaged. She showed him into a drawing- 
 room which, though well furnished, looked as 
 if it were never used. The walls were white, 
 with gold sprigs ; the carpet very green, the 
 table cover and the covering of the chairs 
 greener still. The window-curtains lace, stiff 
 with starch, and smelling of it. On the wall, 
 over the fireplace, was a proof engraving of 
 his Grace, Beavis, seventh Duke of Kings- 
 bridge ; against the fireplace — there was no 
 fire, and no appearance of there ever having 
 been one — a banner screen of needlework, glazed, 
 representing the ducal arms, with supporters 
 and coronet. On the table was an album, con- 
 taining photographs, at which Mr. Crudge 
 looked whilst waiting. First came his Grace, 
 in cabinet size; then one of Lord Edward, 
 Eector of Sleepy Hollow, Canon of Glastonbury, 
 and Archdeacon of Wellington ; one of General 
 Lord Eonald Eveleigh, K.C.B. ; one of Lady
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 79 
 
 Grace Eveleigh, and one of the Marquess of 
 Saltcombe. Then two blank pages, with 
 places never occupied, and after that, at a re- 
 spectful distance, photographs taken from faded 
 daguerreotypes of the late Mr. and Mrs. Worthi- 
 vale, parents of the present steward. The late 
 Mr. Worthivale had been steward to the last, 
 and penultimate, and the present Duke ; a stout, 
 grey-haired old gentleman, in a white beaver, 
 with high collar, and a plaid waistcoat. The 
 old gentleman had probably possessed blue 
 eyes. They had not taken in the daguerreotype, 
 and consequently had not reappeared in the 
 carte, but both insisted emphatically on the 
 plaid of the waistcoat, as if this was, taken all 
 in all, the thing about Mr. Worthivale, senior, 
 which demanded perpetuation. Judging from 
 her photograph, Mrs. Worthivale must have 
 been a cast-iron woman, in black silk that also 
 looked like iron, with twisted iron wire for 
 curls. After these portraits followed those of 
 Mr. Christopher Worthivale ; of his deceased 
 wife, a sweet, patient-looking woman ; of his 
 son Beavis, called after the Duke, who had 
 graciously condescended to stand godfather ; 
 and of his daughter Lucy. On a cabinet stood 
 a beautiful carved alabaster vase, with swans,
 
 80 COURT ROYAL 
 
 forming the handles, drinking out of it, under 
 a glass bell. Into the pedestal of ebony was 
 let a silver plate, on which was engraved a 
 notice that this vase was presented to Mr. 
 Christopher Worthivale by his Grace, Beavis, 
 seventh Duke of Kingsbridge, G.C.B., as a 
 small testimonial of esteem, on the twenty-fifth 
 anniversary of his stewardship. Above this 
 hung a painting in oils, by a local artist, of 
 Court Eoyal ; and on each side of it a portrait, 
 also in oils, the one of a favourite horse of the 
 late Duke, the other of a favourite dog of the 
 late Dowager Duchess. 
 
 Mr. Christopher Worthivale entered, whilst 
 Mr. Crudge was studying these pictures. He 
 was a hale, fresh-coloured man of about five- 
 and-fifty, in a light grey coat and a white 
 waistcoat. He entered briskly, rubbing his 
 hands. Judging by his appearance and manner, 
 one would have supposed that the property 
 of the Duke was in a flourishing and unencum- 
 bered condition, and that the steward's manage- 
 ment of it had been most successful. Not a 
 shadow lay on his cheerful face. His manner 
 was perfectly easy. On his left-hand little 
 finger he wore a ring with a red cornelian, on 
 which were cut the three pheons of Worthivale
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 81 
 
 of AYorthivale, an old respectable Cornish family 
 which he claimed to represent. 
 
 6 Allow me to introduce myself,' said Mr. 
 Crudge. ' My name is familiar to you — Grudge, 
 solicitor, Exeter. I have come on business 
 about which we have had some correspondence.' 
 
 4 Ah! Mr. Crudge, to be sure. The maid 
 got hold of your name wrong. I did not an- 
 ticipate the pleasure. Gooche was what she 
 said. Pray take a seat. Neither your name 
 nor business are strange to me. Mutual ac- 
 commodation, eh ? Do sit down. Really, I am 
 delighted to see you. You could not have 
 done me a greater pleasure.' 
 
 The expression of Mr. Worthivale's face 
 belied his words. On hearing the name of bis 
 visitor some of his cheerfulness had faded from 
 his countenance and his lips twitched. 
 
 4 1 entreat you to be seated,' he went on, 
 nervously offering one chair, then another, then, 
 noticing an arm-chair, rolling that up, then 
 falling back on a fourth, a low light seat of 
 papier mdche. ' You have come a long way. 
 By coach r May I offer you refreshments ? ' 
 
 ' Thank you, I will not take anything. My 
 time is precious. If you have no objection, I 
 would like at once to proceed to business.' 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 COUKT KOYAL 
 
 ' Oh ! business,' echoed Mr. Worthivale, 
 taking out his pocket handkerchief, and dusting 
 the books on the table. ' Dear me ! how pro- 
 voking the servants are. They take advantage 
 of there being no lady in the house to neglect 
 the primary obligations of domestic service. 
 1 cannot see to everything — his Grace's affairs 
 and the dusting of my drawing-room. I beg 
 your pardon, what was the business on which 
 you wished to consult now ? ' 
 
 ' That mortgage held by the Messrs. 
 Stephens. It must be paid, I understand. It 
 is called up. There is a little difficulty, I am 
 led to suppose, some tightness ' 
 
 8 Nothing to speak of, nothing at all,' in- 
 terrupted the steward airily. ' Of course we 
 can find the money. We can offer such 
 excellent security, that it can always be got. 
 You are certain you will take nothing? Not 
 some claret ? ' 
 
 c Excuse me, I should like to settle this 
 matter at once. I believe the interest has been 
 falling in arrear. I have called on Messrs. 
 Stephens. They do not wish any scandal ; the 
 sum is, comparatively, not large. All Messrs. 
 Stephens want is their money, and I have a 
 client who will advance it, the mortgage to be 
 transferred to him.'
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 83 
 
 ' That is exactly what I should propose, 
 said the steward, drawing a long breath. ' All 
 we require to clear off these encumbrances is 
 delay. A calling in of the sums standing on 
 the estates would be inconvenient just at 
 present. The seasons have been bad of late — 
 five detestable years ; several farms are thrown 
 on our hands, and we have no tenants offering ; 
 others we have had to reduce to keep them 
 occupied. The old-fashioned seasons must re- 
 turn eventually — a matter of time only. Then 
 we shall be afloat again. That little sum about 
 which I wrote ? ' 
 
 ' Five thousand. That will also be lent by 
 my client on note of hand at five per cent.' 
 
 ' Who is this client, may I ask ? ' 
 
 ' A Mr. Emmanuel.' 
 
 6 Emmanuel ! ' echoed the steward, moving 
 uneasily on his chair. ' I must say I do not 
 relish the idea of being so deeply indebted to 
 Jews. Unfortunately we are already some- 
 what teased with them. The Marquess, when 
 he was in the army, was rather reckless. It 
 lasted a few years, and then he learned dis- 
 cretion ; but when sowing wild oats he bought 
 his grain of bad seedsmen.' 
 
 8 Indeed, are the debts serious ? '
 
 84 COURT ROYAL 
 
 6 Oh, no ! not at all — not for a marquess, 
 heir to a ducal estate. We only want him to 
 clear these off. Emmanuel! Who is this 
 Emmanuel ? He seems to be getting a much 
 tighter grip on us than I like. First one thing, 
 then another, goes to Mr. Emmanuel. You see 
 this present mortgage is a very important one, 
 it is on the manor of Kingsbridge. He holds 
 that on Court Eoyal already. Who is this 
 Emmanuel ? ' 
 
 c A client who wants safe investment in 
 land. He is trustee to an orphan, and must 
 put the money where it can be secure. What 
 security better than his Grace's property ? ' 
 
 Mr. Worthivale considered a moment; then 
 he said, ' You will allow me to talk the matter 
 over first with the Marquess. You are aware, 
 no doubt, that his Grace is getting on for eighty 
 years, and unable to devote his attention to busi- 
 ness — except quite subsidiary matters — partly 
 on account of his advanced age, partly because 
 he suffers from heart complaint, and must be 
 spared excitement. The Marquess looks after 
 things for him — that is, he is supposed to do 
 so, and he does sometimes. I am in his confi- 
 dence. Indeed, I am his most trusted adviser. 
 I act for the best, always in the interests of the
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 85 
 
 family, but I cod suit the Marquess in every- 
 thing, and he does me the honour, sometimes, 
 of listening to me, and quite devoting his mind 
 to what I suggest.' 
 
 Crudge nodded, but said nothing. 
 
 ' Your time, I think you said, was precious. 
 You will probably be returning to Exeter to- 
 morrow ? ' 
 
 ' To-morrow afternoon.' 
 
 ' Then the business will have to be settled 
 
 as soon as may be. Let me see Have 
 
 you a dress coat with you ? ' 
 
 8 In my portmanteau at the inn.' 
 
 Mr. Worthivale drew a sigh of relief. 
 4 That simplifies matters. If you see no reason 
 against it, I will send a note up to the Mar- 
 quess ' (really it was down hill all the way to 
 Court Eoyal, nevertheless with Mr. Worthivale 
 it was up). ' I will ask if I may take you 
 there to dine to-night, quite en famille, you 
 understand. There are only Lord Eonald, and 
 Lord Edward, and the Vicar, and a neighbour 
 or two there. Half-past seven is the hour. 
 Will you return to Kingsbridge, and get on 
 your evening dress, and drive back ? You can 
 come here, pick me up, and we will go on to- 
 gether. You are positive you have a dress
 
 86 COUKT ROYAL 
 
 suit with you ? — I couldn't, you understand — 
 without ' 
 
 ' Set your mind at rest. I have dress 
 clothes with me.' 
 
 ' I am so thankful to hear it ; I thought it 
 possible you had not. When travelling on 
 business we don't always care to cumber our- 
 selves with superfluous luggage, you understand. 
 To-day is his Grace's birthday, and Lord Edward 
 has come from Somersetshire to see the Duke 
 and to dine with him. Lord Ronald lives at 
 Court Eoyal. There are no others, but the 
 Vicar and a neighbouriug squire or two. I 
 was invited as a devoted adherent to the family. 
 Very kind. Also my son Beavis, who has the 
 honour of being his Grace's godchild. My 
 daughter, Lucy, is companion to Lady Grace. 
 They were brought up together, and Lucy lives 
 at the Court. Dear me ! Bless my soul ! 
 The housemaid has left the duster in the room, 
 stuffed it under the fender, and thinks it out of 
 sight. As I am alive, there are the stove 
 brushes also. Under the circumstances, you 
 understand, if you had been without a dress 
 coat ' — he looked clown at Mr. Crudge's feet — 
 6 and patent-leather boots ? : 
 
 1 1 have slippers and red silk stockings.'
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 87 
 
 ' They will do. Quite the thing. I feel so 
 light of heart. You are supplied in every other 
 particular ? I should be so proud ? ' 
 
 ' I always take about with me paper collars, 
 cuffs, and dickies.' 
 
 ' Paper ! Dickies ! ' echoed Mr. Worthivale. 
 'You will excuse me, I know — but I hardly 
 like to — that is, I hardly think that — in a word, 
 I would not for the world show any disrespect 
 to his Grace, especially on his birthday. You 
 see a duke stands at the very summit of the 
 social scale — next to Eoyalty. Archbishops 
 only go before by order of precedence, but that 
 is a relic of pre-Eeformation priestcraft which 
 set the Church above the State. An archbishop 
 may be any Jack or Tom. You will not take 
 it amiss if I offer to lend you one of my shirts ? ' 
 
 1 Not at all ; not at all.' 
 
 1 And you will not fail to be here at seven ? ' 
 
 ' I will not fail.' 
 
 Mr. Crudge, as a lawyer, was punctual. 
 Precisely at seven his fly drew up at Mr. 
 Worthivale's door, and the steward joined him. 
 
 ' Do you see,' asked the steward, as a woman 
 in a scarlet cloak opened the gates of the drive, 
 ' all the females who appear in the grounds are 
 expected to wear old-fashioned red cloth cloaks
 
 88 COURT ROYAL 
 
 and hoods ? His Grace supplies them at Christ- 
 mas. The effect is charming among the green 
 shrubs and on the shaven lawns. Do look about 
 you at the trees. Are not these araucarias 
 superb ? I believe these were the first planted 
 in England. The mildness of the climate and 
 the fertility of the soil have made them thrive. 
 Look at the hydrangeas. Did you ever see 
 anything like them ? Blue, all blue, owing to 
 the iron in the soil. The rhododendron and 
 azalea season is the time to see this place to 
 perfection. The two-mile drive between banks 
 of flowering shrubs is scarcely to be surpassed. 
 I should have liked to take you through the 
 vineries, orchard-houses, pinery, and conserva- 
 tories. The Duke and the Lady Grace are 
 passionately fond of flowers. He grudges no 
 money on his gardens and glass-houses. You 
 like this gravelled road, do you not ? We have 
 to send to the Tamar copper-mines for the 
 gravel. It comes in barges from Morwellham 
 to Kingsbridge. It is so charged with mundic 
 and arsenic as to poison the weeds for seven 
 years. It comes rather costly, but there is no 
 gravel like it, a beautiful white spar. His Grace 
 can endure no other gravel. We have some six 
 miles of gravelled walks and drives done with
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 89 
 
 it in the park and gardens. Yon have a pair 
 of gloves with yon, I hope? I myself wear 
 them until I enter the room, lest my fingers 
 should get dirty. Are your hands moist ? Hold 
 them against the glass to cool them. I do not 
 myself like shaking hands when my hands are 
 warm. There, from this point you get a lovely 
 glimpse of the estuary and the beautiful hills 
 behind, with the tower of Stokenham on the 
 height. It is too dark for you to distinguish 
 the tower, but you can see the water. I call 
 the creek an estuary, but, as a fact, no rivers 
 run into it. The Avon flows away behind that 
 bank of hill. There is the Court : a fine pile of 
 buildings, is it not ? all built of Yealmton lime- 
 stone. I call it limestone, but, in fact, it is 
 marble. By this light you cannot see how 
 prettily it is veined. The late Duke began the 
 mansion, and the present Duke completed it, 
 about forty- three years ago. It is in the Doric 
 order.' 
 
 ' It must have cost a pot of money,' observed 
 Mr. Crudge. 
 
 ' It cost a great deal of money,' said the 
 steward coldly. ' Dukes do not keep their 
 money in pots, like old women.' 
 
 1 Is it paid for ? ' asked the lawyer.
 
 90 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Well It is rather unfortunate that 
 
 their Graces were obliged to build, but, really, 
 they could not help themselves. The old 
 house was Elizabethan, very suitable for a 
 country squire or for a baronet. I am not sure 
 that even a baron might not have put up with 
 it, but it was not of a scale — of a sort — it had 
 not the height ' (Mr. Worthivale spread his 
 hands illustrative of its dimensions) { you under- 
 stand. A duke is a duke, and must be ducally 
 lodged. If you have a sun, you must have 
 a firmament to contain it. Even the dome 
 of St. Paul's would be ridiculous. You under- 
 stand.' 
 
 The fly drew up under the Doric portico, 
 and the steward and his companion were 
 received into the house by men in the ducal 
 livery of buff and scarlet. 
 
 An expression of humility and of piety 
 diffused itself over the face of Mr. Worthivale 
 as he ascended the broad marble staircase, 
 thickly carpeted, towards the drawing-room. 
 Crudge was not oppressed nor surprised at 
 what he saw. He looked round him with 
 curiosity. The entrance-hall was stately, with 
 polished marble pillars and pilasters. It was 
 lighted by a chandelier. Beautiful paintings
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 91 
 
 adorned the walls. Footmen in buff and 
 scarlet flitted about like moths on a hot day. 
 
 Mr. Worthivale whispered, ' Yonder is a 
 Gainsborough, of Lady Selena Eveleigh, after- 
 wards Countess of Grampound. This is a 
 Eubens — splendid colouring. But you should 
 see those at Kingsbridge House, Piccadilly. Pity 
 they are so fleshy that really a curtain over them 
 is needed. The subject of this I do not under- 
 stand. It is allegorical. Hush ! here we are.' 
 
 They were conducted through the state 
 drawing-room, which was lighted, but empty, 
 into a smaller room, whence they heard the 
 sound of voices. This was a charming boudoir, 
 white and gold, with rose silk curtains and 
 rose satin coverings to the sofas and chairs. In 
 a large easy chair by the fire sat his Grace the 
 Duke of Kingsbridge, a tall, white-haired, 
 noble -looking man, with a high ivory forehead, 
 a pale transparent complexion, caused by the 
 disease from which he suffered, his eyes dark 
 and piercing. His face was oval, his features 
 finely modelled, the nose aquiline, but not so 
 much as to give the idea of strength to his face. 
 The face was refined, dignified, and cold. It 
 wanted vigour, but was modelled with in- 
 flexible obstinacy.
 
 02 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Lord Ronald, the general, was like him, 
 but richer in colour, and his features were 
 bolder. He was erect, decided in his move- 
 ments, and looked what he was, a soldier. 
 His hair was grey, and he wore grey whiskers 
 and moustache. Lord Edward, the Arch- 
 deacon of Wellington, was a smaller man than 
 his brother, grey headed, with a sallow com- 
 plexion, much wrinkled. His eyes were 
 wanting in brilliancy, and his face bore an 
 expression of nervous timidity. He had lost 
 his front teeth, and this had altered the shape of 
 his mouth, and given him a look less aristocratic 
 than his brothers. 
 
 The Marquess of Saltcombe, who was also 
 in the room, was a handsome man of about 
 forty, with dark hair, dark eye-, and military 
 moustache. The rest of his face was shaven. 
 His eyes were fine, but wanting in fire ; indeed, 
 the general expression of his face lacked 
 animation. He was grave, dignified, with a 
 pleasant smile, which he put on when spoken 
 to, but the smile never mounted to his face 
 spontaneously. He had laughed without merri- 
 ment, argued without enthusiasm, pitied with- 
 out sympathy, and acted without impulse. He 
 had been in the armv. but had left it ; not
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 
 
 caring for political life he had not attempted 
 to enter Parliament. He lived at home, was 
 too inert to go to town, and entered without 
 eagerness into country pursuits. 
 
 Other gentlemen were present, but Mr. 
 Crudge did not notice them particularly. 
 Among the ladies present the only one who 
 was conspicuous was Lady Grace Eveleigh. 
 the daughter of the Duke. She was tall, 
 like the rest of the family, and had the family 
 refinement and nobility of type ; but to this 
 was added great purity and sweetness, and a 
 very gentle, almost pleading manner. Mr, 
 Worthivale introduced the lawyer to the 
 Marquess, who was nearest to the door, and 
 was apparently expecting their arrival. Then 
 Lord Saltcombe took on himself the task of 
 introducing Mr. Crudge to his father and 
 uncles and sister. The Duke slightly 
 from his seat and bowed with courtesy, but 
 without encouragement; Lord Edward held 
 out his hand, and made some general remark, 
 his kind face relaxing into a friendly ex - 
 Lord Ronald shook hands and said a 
 words. The lawyer felt that, although he had 
 moved in all sorts of society, he was as a fish 
 out of water here. T theis looked on
 
 94 COURT ROYAL 
 
 him as a stranger from another sphere, whose 
 presence must be tolerated, who would never 
 rise even to the level of acquaintanceship. 
 The Duke exchanged a few words with him 
 on the weather, and the drive from the 
 station, and on the prospect of a branch line 
 being made to Kingsbridge, ' which,' said 
 he, 'I shall oppose,' and then turned to 
 the Vicar and Sir Edward Sheep wash, and 
 continued with them a conversation which 
 had been interrupted by the introduction of 
 Mr. Crudge. 
 
 The Marquess and Worthivale engaged 
 him in desultory talk, and after a while shook 
 him off. Then Lady Grace, seeing that the 
 lawyer looked ill at ease, drew towards him, 
 and provoked a conversation as lively as 
 was possible under the conditions of their 
 having no points in common. 
 
 ' Let me introduce you to my dearest 
 friend, my almost sister, Miss Lucy Worthivale,' 
 said Lady Grace ; ' and perhaps you will take 
 her in to dinner ? ' 
 
 Miss Worthivale was a pretty young lady 
 with bright colour and large, soft, dark eyes. 
 Her face brimmed with good-nature. It was, 
 perhaps, a little flat and moon-shaped, but its
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 95 
 
 effect was sunny. Her eyes were everywhere. 
 Mr. Grudge saw that she was made useful in 
 the house in many ways to relieve Lady Grace 
 of irksome duties, and stand between her and 
 annoyances. 
 
 Crudge observed that her attention was 
 generally directed to Lady Grace, whom she 
 evidently admired and loved with her whole 
 soul. Lady Grace occasionally caught her 
 friend's eye during dinner, smiled, and then a 
 flush of pleasure kindled the honest face of 
 Lucy. Because his companion looked so much 
 towards the end of the table, the solicitor found 
 his eyes also wandering in the same direction. 
 Lady Grace was clearly not very young. / Mr. 
 Crudge conjectured that her age was about 
 five-and-twenty ; but though not a girl, her 
 pure lace was luminous with the light of a 
 child's innocence. The complexion was trans- 
 parently white, with a little colour that came 
 and went as a flicker in her cheek, and yet it 
 was so faint and doubtful that it was difficult 
 to say whether what flickered there was colour 
 or a smile. There was something almost sad 
 and appealing to pity in her eye and mouth ; 
 yet Lady Grace had known no sorrow, had met 
 with no contradiction. Her life had been un-
 
 9b COURT ROYAL 
 
 clouded and unvexed. Her mouth was flexible, 
 fine, and tremulous ; her voice soft, low, and 
 sweet. 
 
 Mr. Grudge was a man utterly without 
 idealism. He could read no poetry except 
 Crabbe. Yet he could hardly withdraw his 
 eyes from her face. She fascinated even the 
 commonplace man of business. She puzzled 
 him. He thought within his mind how he 
 should get on with her if he had business 
 transactions with her. Women's minds, as he 
 believed, were made up of so much care about 
 servants, so much about dress, so much solici- 
 tude about the goings on of their neighbours, 
 a. screwiness about money, a pinch of good 
 nature, and a spice of spite, all stirred up 
 together till well mixed. But there was nothing 
 of tliis in the face before him. He shook his 
 head ; it was like the dish before him, made up 
 of unknown ingredients. 
 
 Beside her on one side sat the Vicar, an 
 elderly and gentlemanly man, with views like 
 a rose of wax, to be moulded by any man who 
 put his hand to it and thumbed it. He was 
 so much of a gentleman that he would differ 
 with no one. Next him sat a young man who 
 was speaking to no one, and was only occa-
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 97 
 
 sionally addressed by Lady Grace, who, with, 
 ready tact, saw that he was out of the 
 conversation. 
 
 ' That is my brother,' said Lucy, in answer 
 to a query of the solicitor. c There was no lady 
 for him to take in to dinner. He has been 
 in a lawyer's office. Papa thought it a good 
 training for him. Of course he will be steward 
 after papa. His Grace did us the favour of 
 standing as his godfather. I fancy he would 
 rather not have been here this evening, though 
 he is quite at home in Court Eoyal, but my 
 father pressed him to ccme.' 
 
 Grudge looked across at him with interest. 
 Here, at all events, was a man who belonged to 
 his world — who felt uncomfortable, out of place, 
 in the sphere in which he found himself 
 
 When the ladies withdrew, he moved his 
 glass, so as to be opposite him and enter into 
 conversation, but found the steward come up 
 beside him and engage him. 
 
 4 The Lady Grace,' said Mr. Worthivale, ' is 
 very lovely. Do you not think so ? We are 
 all her worshippers here — from a distance, 
 looking up at her as an unapproachable star.' 
 
 ' A little passee, eh ? ' 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 98 COURT ROYAL 
 
 'Not at all, not at all,' said Worthivale 
 colouring. ' She is a most charming person.' 
 
 ' I should suppose so,' answered the solicitor. 
 
 ' And the Duke ? You have had some 
 conversation with him. I heard the weather 
 and the branch spoken of. A commanding 
 intellect. A most charming person ; wonderful 
 man for his age. Seventy-six to-day, and in 
 full command of his faculties.' 
 
 'Obstinate, eh?' 
 
 ' Not at all — firm,' said Worthivale with a 
 frown. ' When he says a thing he sticks to it. 
 You see that Lord Edward is a delicate man. 
 He had not the physique of the rest, that was 
 why he was put into the Church. Yet it 
 was a pity, as his intellectual powers are con- 
 siderable, and he might have done well in the 
 diplomatic service. A most charming man. 
 Lord Eonald is a fine old soldier ; was in the 
 Crimean war, where he distinguished himself. 
 A man full of information on all military 
 matters — perfectly charming. You have, I 
 believe, had a chat or two with the Marquess ; 
 he is now talking to my son. They have known 
 each other since boyhood, and there is almost 
 the attachment of friendship between them — 
 as far as friendship can subsist between two so
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 99 
 
 widely removed in the social scale. I hope 
 that eventually my son will succeed to the 
 stewardship. Of course he is young now, and 
 
 the affairs demand an old head ' He 
 
 paused, and moved uneasily. 'Altogether the 
 Marquess is a most charming man.' 
 
 ' Quite so,' said Mr. Crudge. 
 
 ' There is our Vicar,' pursued the steward. 
 1 An agreeable person, but tiresome. To-morrow 
 he will dine with a gentleman of means, but no 
 birth, in the town, and be quite Liberal, if not 
 Radical, when his feet are beneath his maho- 
 gany. He leads a life of it ; he is pulled this 
 way and that by the ladies of his congrega- 
 tion, who have their various and discordant 
 views.' 
 
 ' That,' said Mr. Crudge, ' strikes me as the 
 weakness of the Church of England. She 
 is trying to balance herself between two stools, 
 a position neither dignified nor secure.' 
 
 8 Still,' said the steward, 'with this abatement 
 he is a charming man.' Then he held up his 
 finger : ' His Grace is speaking.' 
 
 c I do not myself see how we can eicape a 
 complete political and social revolution,' said 
 the Duke to the Vicar, Sir Edward Sheep wash, 
 and the Archdeacon of Wellington. ' If the
 
 100 COURT ROYAL 
 
 franchise is entrusted to the Have-nots, the Haves 
 must go down. They must go down for this 
 reason ' 
 
 4 Which is the Ducal family ? ' whispered 
 Grudge. ' Haves or Have-nots, or Have and 
 Have-not in one ? ' 
 
 ' Hush,' said Worthivale. 
 
 4 They must go down for this reason, that 
 the appeal to the electors will be an appeal to 
 Cerberus, and Cerberus must be given cakes. 
 Now, it is absurd to affect indignation against 
 bribery and corruption in boroughs, and yet 
 extend the franchise to the needy. If the needy 
 have the franchise, you must appeal to their 
 cupidity. It is the only appeal they can under- 
 stand. The new class of electors are earth- 
 worms, all stomach. "Whichever party desires 
 to get into power must appeal to their cupidity, 
 or for evermore stand out of power. Hitherto 
 bribery has meant the candidate throwing away 
 his own money ; henceforth he will throw away 
 that of others, and that will not be bribery. I 
 bribe the electors of Kin^sbrido-e if I allow them 
 to shoot rabbits over my preserves. I do not 
 bribe if I promise them the land of the aris- 
 tocracy and the tithes of the Church.' 
 
 * Already,' said the Archdeacon, ' the farmers
 
 THE DUCAL FAMILY 101 
 
 are crying out that they are crushed by the 
 rates.' 
 
 6 Very well,' said the Duke ; let the Liberals 
 go to the country with the offer of disestablish- 
 ment and disendowment, the tithe to go to 
 cover the rates and relieve the farmers, and 
 you will see the farmers to a man will turn 
 Eadical.' 
 
 ' If the Church Avcre disestablished we 
 should have to become definite,' said the Vicar, 
 a white-haired, round, red- faced, good-natured 
 man. ' I cannot imagine anything more dis- 
 astrous to the Church than to become definite.' 
 
 'The House of Lords will never pass dis- 
 establishment,' said the Archdeacon. 
 
 1 The House may go too,' said the Duke. 
 
 ' The country is gone crazed,' said the 
 General, ' or it would not have endured the 
 short-service system. What should you say to 
 those who trained men to be carpenters, or 
 engineers, or lawyers, and, as soon as they had 
 mastered their professions, told them to get 
 about their business and take to something else ?' 
 
 The Duke sighed : ' I may not live to see 
 it, but the House of Lords will go.' 
 
 ' And with it the Church will fall,' said the 
 Archdeacon.
 
 3 02 COURT KOYAL 
 
 'The army is gone to the clogs already,' said 
 the General. 
 
 Mr. Crudge leaned across the table, and said 
 to Beavis Worthivale : c I see by the direction 
 of your eyes you are trying to decipher an 
 inscription over the chimney-piece that has been 
 puzzling me. I am too shortsighted to read it 
 from where I sit.' 
 
 ' It is the motto of the family,' said the 
 young man, ' written all over the house — 
 "Quod antiquatur et senecit, i^rope interitum 
 est" ' 
 
 6 Scripture, eh ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, Scripture. " That which decay eth 
 and waxeth old is ready to vanish away." ' 
 
 4 Very good — very appropriate. " Projye 
 interitum est" '
 
 103 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BEAYIS. 
 
 6 I really think,' said Mr. Crudge, as he stood 
 in the hall, being helped into his overcoat, and 
 while the fly was at the door to take him to his 
 inn — ' I really think, as it is dry underfoot, 
 that I will walk to Kingsbridge. The night is 
 lovely, the moon is full, and I have a pair of 
 goloshes in my greatcoat pocket.' 
 
 1 1 will accompany you, if you have no ob- 
 jection,' said Beavis Worthivale. ' I also would 
 enjoy the walk. My father can return in your 
 fly. He is without an overcoat, and he will not 
 lock up till I reappear.' 
 
 6 Is Miss Worthivale coining ? ' 
 
 'Lucy? Oh, no! She lives at the Court, 
 and only visits at the Lodge,' answered Mr. 
 Worthivale. ' We see little of her. She is 
 always with the Lady Grace.'
 
 101 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' If you are ready,' said Mr. Grudge to the 
 young man, ' I am at your service.' 
 
 The night was indeed lovely. The moon 
 hung unclouded over the sea, which gleamed 
 in vistas opened among the trees of the park. 
 Myrtles, magnolia, geraniums luxuriated in the 
 warm, equable climate of the south coast, uncut 
 by east winds, unchecked by late frosts. Above, 
 the silver moon, walking in brightness ; below, 
 Mr. Crudge, walking in his goloshes. Mr. 
 Grudge turned and looked back at Court Royal. 
 The moon was on the front of the mansion. It 
 was a noble pile of buildings, worthy of the 
 residence of a duke. Behind rose hills covered 
 with oak and beech woods, interspersed with 
 Scottish fir and silver pines. In the moonlight. 
 with the lighted windows, and the bank of park 
 trees behind, it resembled a beautiful ivory 
 sculpture, studded with golden points, reposing 
 in a bed of black velvet. 
 
 But Mr. Crudge had no thought of the 
 loveliness of the scene. ' To live in a place like 
 this,' said he, ' and in this style, a man should 
 have forty or fifty thousand, and the family have 
 not that — clear. It is the poorest ducal 
 house in England. You seem tome down here 
 to go by contraries. You have an estuary with-
 
 BEAVIS 105 
 
 out a river, a Kingsbridge without a bridge, a 
 ducal state kept up without a ducal estate on 
 which to keep it up.' 
 
 Beavis did not reply. Grudge turned and 
 looked at him. The moon was full on the 
 young man's face ; it was clouded, and his eyes 
 were on the ground. 
 
 ' You and I belong to the law alike,' said 
 Crudge ; ' you are peeling your potato and I am 
 eating at the floury ball, that is the difference. 
 Hope you'll soon get your teeth in.' 
 
 4 1 am in the office of the Duke's lawyer in 
 town ; but I am not to continue in a solicitor's 
 office.' 
 
 4 Why not ? The affairs of the family will 
 give you plenty of occupation. Believe me, 
 my boy, there are more pickings to be got out 
 of tottering than standing houses.' 
 
 Young Worthivale walked on without an- 
 swering. He struck a match and lighted a 
 cigar. 
 
 ' The parrots in Jamaica used to eat nuts,' 
 said Crudge, 4 in the days of their ignorance. 
 They have learned to do better for themselves 
 now. They put their claws into the wool of a 
 sheep and swing themselves, bob. bob, bob, 
 against the side of the creature, till with their
 
 106 COURT KOYAL 
 
 beaks tliey get at the fat about the kidney, and 
 they make their repast off that. Better than 
 nuts that, eh? You've your hold on a fat 
 wether ; I wish I had your place. All I can 
 say is, bob, bob, bob, till you get at the fat ! ' 
 
 Beavis said nothing, but set his lips tight on 
 his cigar and puffed rapidly. 
 
 ' I must confess,' said Grudge, c that what I 
 have seen to-day will remain with me as long 
 as I live. What a remarkable family ! The 
 dignity, stateliness, old-worldishness of the lot 
 makes them interesting. They belong to the 
 past. I seem to have come out of Madame 
 Tussaud's, and to have seen wax- work nota- 
 bilities. I hope you are not offended ; I mean 
 no offence. Do you remember the story in the 
 "Arabian Nights" of the man — a Kalendar, I 
 dare say — who got into a palace where every- 
 one was petrified except a prince, who was 
 semi-petrified? I feel like that Kalendar. I 
 am not sure that you are not half-fossilised also. 
 I do not see how anyone can live in this en- 
 chanted atmosphere and not be enchanted.' 
 
 e I see what you mean,' said young Worthi- 
 vale. ' You are right, the atmosphere in Court 
 Eoyal is not that of the nineteenth century, but 
 of the last,'
 
 BEAT IS 107 
 
 4 There are different atmospheres at different 
 levels,' said Crudge. ' Theirs is too exalted for 
 rne. At the top of Mont Blanc men's ears and 
 noses bleed ; and I have had great oppression 
 there aloft. I breathe freer now I am down 
 again with you. But you — you belong to the 
 upper crust, after a fashion ! ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Beavis laughing, s after the 
 fashion of the pigeon in the pie ; it has its feet 
 there, but the feet only. I was at table to-day, 
 but not one of the family. My father and sister 
 belong to this exclusive world ; they have been 
 like sponges, they have sucked in the surround- 
 ing element. They share the views, the pre- 
 judices, the delusions of the family and class. 
 To you, what you have seen this day is amusing ; 
 to me it is depressing.' 
 
 ' Exactly so. I am reminded to-day of what 
 is said in Scripture of the world before the 
 Flood. They were eating and drinking, marry- 
 ing and giving in marriage, until the flood came 
 and swept them all away.' 
 
 ' You are not far wrong. The flood is 
 surely rising which will sweep them all away. 
 According to popular tradition, the inlet where 
 now the blue waters roll up to Kingsbridge was 
 once a fertile valley, with towns and churches
 
 108 COURT ROYAL 
 
 and mansions. The ocean broke in one stormy 
 night and swept them clean away — no, I am 
 wrong — buried them deep, deep in mud. Where 
 was once waving corn is now mud — nothing 
 but mud, and mud that stinks. First the age 
 of gold, then of silver, then of iron, then of clay 
 mingled with iron, and now we are on the 
 threshold of the age of vulgar mud. Sea-wrack 
 for corn, barnacles for men, winkle-shells for 
 palaces ! ' 
 
 1 I see you also have a hankering after what 
 is death-doomed ! ' 
 
 ' I regret the decay of what is noble and 
 generous ; but it is inevitable. Out of the clay 
 God made men, and out of the coming mud He 
 will mould a new order. When the flat-fish 
 are in the deep sea they have their deep-sea 
 flavour. When they come into our creek their 
 flesh assimilates itself to the flavour of our slime. 
 We shall have to accommodate ourselves to be 
 vulgar, commonplace, to think mud, to taste 
 mud, to have muddy aspirations.' 
 
 6 I see,' said Crudge impatiently, ' you belong 
 to the upper crust more fully than by the feet. 
 I don't, and I don't want to ! However, the 
 upper crust will have to go under shortly and 
 get sodden in the gravy.'
 
 BE AVIS 109 
 
 8 Yes,' said Beavis sadly, 8 it will go down . 
 Everyone outside can tell the time better than 
 the man in the clock-case. I am in the office 
 of the Duke's lawyer, and am son of his 
 steward ; I have plenty of opportunity of 
 noting the tendency of affairs. What, I ask 
 myself, will become of these people, accustomed 
 to the state of a ducal mansion, to the respect 
 and consideration that surrounds them, when 
 cast out, encumbered with a title and a his- 
 tory, reared in one world, hurled into another ? 
 Tome the scene to- day was one of infinite pathos.' 
 
 8 The end is not so near as you suppose,' 
 said Crudge. 
 
 8 It cannot be very distant,' exclaimed Beavis. 
 8 1 would give my best heart's blood to save 
 them from ruin, for they are the worthiest 
 people in the world. But I am not blind to 
 their faults. Look there ' — he pointed to a 
 row of handsome almshouses in the 8 cottage- 
 Gothic ' style, each with its pretty garden before 
 it — ' Here live superannuated servants of the 
 family rent-free, on pensions. Yonder is the 
 school, entirely supported by his Grace.' 
 
 8 Almshouses are mischievous institutions ; 
 they superinduce a habit of improvidence.' 
 
 8 That may be true. According to modern
 
 110 COURT ROYAL 
 
 doctrine, charity impoverishes. To give to the 
 poor is to harm them, and should be made 
 penal. The survivals of the old world do not 
 see this.' 
 
 ' Why should the Duke maintain a school ? 
 He should throw the cost on the rates and have 
 a Board.' 
 
 c So he should ; but he thinks it his duty 
 and privilege to provide the children of all who 
 live on his land with education free of cost, and 
 with religious instruction on the principles of 
 the Established Church. He belongs to a past 
 order of ideas, and that is his view. We who 
 belong to the new order object to gratuitous 
 and to denominational education. The Duke is 
 a patriarch, full of patriarchal notions of ob- 
 ligation to and care for all who belong to him. 
 He would provide for everyone born on his 
 estates if he were able, like the Incas of old 
 Peru.' 
 
 ' That interferes with individualism,' said 
 Crudge. 
 
 ' Of course it does ; but he belongs to the 
 old school of moral responsibilities. The 
 General, Lord Eonald, belongs to the old school 
 in military ideas ; and the Archdeacon, Lord 
 Edward, belongs to the old school in theology.
 
 BEAYIS HI 
 
 The Marquess has an honourable soul, but he 
 belongs to the old school of Laissez faire. 
 Lady Grace belongs to the old school of sweet 
 womanly culture. Not one of them has any 
 idea how near the edge of the precipice they 
 stand. They look on political dangers as the 
 rocks in their course, and not on financial break- 
 ers among which they are running and in which 
 they will go to pieces. It is true that they 
 know they have not the wealth which once be- 
 longed to the family ; but they sigh over the 
 past without bestirring themselves for the pre- 
 sent. What is to be done for these blind 
 people ? To rob them of their illusion is 
 impossible. It circulates in their blood. To 
 save them in spite of themselves — how is that 
 to be done ? ' 
 
 The solicitor listened attentively. He said, 
 with a smile, ' Before the Flood they married, 
 and that did not arrest the tide. Before this 
 flood it may do wonders. The Marquess may 
 make a marriage which will save the property.' 
 
 4 He may do so,' answered Beavis, ' but then 
 he must go about the country heiress-hunting, 
 and this he will not do. He is too proud. 
 Heiresses will not come in troops to be marched 
 past him, as were maidens in the days of
 
 112 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Ahasuerus the king. The Marquess postpones 
 marriage to the Greek Kalends. He reads, 
 smokes, hunts, fishes, yachts, shoots, plants 
 rare pines, believes in his family, and is glued 
 to Court Royal.' 
 
 ' But has not your father done something 
 to rouse them to a sense of their danger ? ' 
 
 6 My father sees with their eyes, hears with 
 their ears, thinks with their brains. To him, 
 the ruin of the Kingsbridge family is impossible ; 
 Providence cannot allow it and reign above 
 the spheres as a moral power.' He turned 
 sharply round to Mr. Crudge, and said, in a 
 voice that trembled with emotion, ' Why are 
 you here ? No doubt you have not come here 
 for change of scene, and air, and society ? ' 
 
 ' Oh dear no,' answered Mr. Crudge ; ' I 
 cannot afford that. I am here on business — 
 Kingsbridge business. Here we are at my inn. 
 Good-night.' 
 
 ' May I come in ? I will detain you from 
 your bed only a few minutes longer ; but I 
 cannot return till I am satisfied.' 
 
 'Satisfied!' echoed Mr. Crudge. 'What 
 satisfaction can I give you ? However, come 
 in, and take a glass of something.' 
 
 'You' must excuse me that,' said Beavis,
 
 BEAVIS 113 
 
 entering the coffee-room with the solicitor. 
 'You understand my position, my relation to 
 the family. I hope I am committing no indis- 
 cretion when I ask you for light on your object 
 in coming here. You say that the end is not 
 so near at hand as I anticipate. You speak, 
 then, with some authority. You know the 
 circumstances. I am warmly attached to the 
 whole family. I have been reared in the 
 tradition and reverence for it. My father and 
 grandfather have been stewards for more years 
 than I can tell. If the Kingsb ridge family goes 
 to pieces, some of the blame will attach to my 
 father. Is it not possible that something can 
 be done to save them? I have no right to 
 appeal to your sympathy, but I cannot bring 
 myself to believe that you desire the ruin of 
 one of the grandest names among the English 
 aristocracy.' 
 
 ' I really care little or nothing about them ; 
 the name of Eveleigh has no more merit with 
 me that than of Smith,' answered Mr. Grudge. 
 ' But you must not expect of me to confide to 
 you matters concerning my clients, and to 
 assist you with advice which may thwart their 
 interests, which I am here to advance.' 
 
 vol. I. r
 
 114 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Of course not. I merely ask your purpose 
 in coming here,' said Beavis. 
 
 4 That is no secret,' answered the solicitor. 
 c Among other debts weighing on the property 
 is a mortgage on the Kiugsbridge estate, held by 
 the Stephens Brothers, which has been called 
 in. The Duke finds a difficulty in raising the 
 money, and he further wishes to raise a trifle 
 of a few thousand. I have a client who will 
 advance the entire sum. There is nothing 
 extraordinary in this, nor is the Duke threatened 
 in any way.' 
 
 Beavis considered. 
 
 ' What is the name of your client ? ' 
 
 ' Emmanuel. The transfer of the mortgage 
 will not affect the Duke in the least. The debt 
 remains, and the interest will be paid to Mr. 
 Emmanuel instead of to Messrs. Stephens.' 
 
 ' I do not like this,' said Beavis. ' An 
 Emmanuel, I suppose the same man, has the 
 mortgage on the home estate, with park and 
 mansions. Does this fellow, Emmanuel, know 
 the condition we are in ? ' 
 
 ' I know his thoughts as little as yourself,' 
 answered Crudge, who wished to bring this 
 conversation to an end. 
 
 c This is the third time the name of
 
 BEAVIS 115 
 
 Emmanuel has turned up in the affairs of the 
 Duke.' 
 
 ' It is possible.' 
 
 ' I see,' said Beavis ; ' you will say no more. 
 Well, good-night. At what time will you b© 
 at my father's office to-morrow ? ' 
 
 ' At half -past ten or eleven.' 
 
 c Say eleven. Allow me time to have an 
 interview first with the Marquess. Good- night.' 
 
 When Beavis was gone, Grudge shrugged 
 his shoulders. ' No good in that fellow. 
 Bitten with the aristocratic craze. Wouldn't 
 I only like to have my claws as firm as himself 
 in the wool ! Bob, bob, bob — till I fed on the 
 fat of the dying wether.' 
 
 On Beavis's return, he saw that there was a 
 light in the study. His father had not gone to 
 bed. Beavis was glad of it, as he felt in no 
 mood for sleep, so he knocked at the door and 
 went in. 
 
 Mr. Worthivale was sitting over the fire, 
 with a slipperless foot against each jamb of the 
 mantelpiece, smoking and looking dreamily into 
 the coals. 
 
 'Well, Beavis, seen your friend tucked in 
 between the sheets ? ' 
 
 ' No friend of mine,' answered the son. ? I
 
 116 COURT ROYAL 
 
 never saw him before you introduced him to 
 Court Royal.' 
 
 ' Look here,' said Mr. Worthivale, pointing 
 with the mouthpiece of his pipe at a book that 
 lay open on the table, page downwards, to 
 mark the place. ' I've been reading Ouida's 
 last. What do you think of the story, Beavis ? 
 I rather like it.' 
 
 ' Never read anything of Ouida's in my 
 life,' answered the young man. 'Don't care if 
 I never do. Now I want a word with you on 
 business, father, if you can spare me ten 
 minutes.' 
 
 c Business ! ' sighed the steward. ' Eternally 
 business. After I had done my work for the 
 day, as I hoped, in dropped that solicitor, Crudge, 
 to badger me ; and now that I thought to 
 drowse over my pipe and Ouida, in 3-011 come, 
 blowing a blast of business cold in my face to 
 rouse me. No, I'll talk no business to-night. 
 Pour yourself out a glass of cold whisky and 
 water, and smoke a cigar, and then to bed. 
 You will have to find a tumbler for yourself. 
 There are plenty in the pantry, with thumb- 
 marks imprinted on their rims. I told Emily 
 to put out two whilst you are here, but the girl's 
 head is like a sieve. She is courting, I pre-
 
 BEAYIS 117 
 
 sume. The sugar-bowl is empty ; the house- 
 keeper has forgotten to fill that. When I say- 
 empty, I am wrong ; there is a cake of brown 
 moist sugar at the bottom, solid as pie-crust. 
 The lumps of white had been tumbled iu on 
 top — to save trouble, I suppose.' 
 
 8 1 really must have a word on business 
 with you to-night, father. The solicitor from 
 Exeter will be here to-morrow morning.' 
 
 8 Well, what of that ? ' 
 
 8 He will come about the mortgage ; and 
 what I want to say concerns the family we 
 alike love, and would save from ruin.' 
 
 8 Euin ! Fiddlestick's ends ! ' 
 
 'My dear father, the situation is desperate.' 
 
 8 My dear Beavis,' answered Mr. Worthi- 
 vale testily, * I am steward, and I ought to 
 know the state of affairs better than any one 
 else, and I refuse to have it spoken of as 
 desperate.' 
 
 8 You may refuse, father, to allow their 
 affairs to be called desperate, but desperate 
 they are.' 
 
 8 You forget yourself, Beavis. You take 
 too much upon you. A raw hand lays on the 
 paint too thick.' 
 
 8 Their affairs have o'ot into such a condition
 
 118 COURT ROYAL 
 
 that nothing save a miracle can stave off ruin ; 
 and the age of miracles is past.' 
 
 * Now, Beavis, yon impeach my administra- 
 tion of their property. If they come to ruin, 
 I shall be blamed.' 
 
 c Of course yon will, father,' said the young 
 man. ' I do not for a moment dispute your 
 devotion to the Duke, your readiness to do all 
 you can to promote his interests ; you have 
 looked at the sun so long, father, that you are 
 dazzled, and cannot see the specks — specks ! — 
 the total eclipse that is stealing on.' 
 
 Mr. Worthivale was both surprised and of- 
 fended at his son's plain speaking. He who is 
 dissatisfied with himself is readiest offended. 
 He smoked without speaking, then took a sip 
 at his cold whisky and water. 
 
 ' Who asked you to interfere ? What right 
 have you to meddle ? ' he asked grumblingly. 
 
 ' No one has asked me to interfere ; but my 
 love for the family, and the long chain of obli- 
 gations which binds me to it, forces me to break 
 silence, and bark when burglars menace the 
 house.' 
 
 ' Menace ! What cock-and-bull story have 
 you got hold of now ? ' 
 
 8 For heaven's sake, father, be serious. I
 
 BEAYIS 119 
 
 am down here for a short while, and I cannot 
 in conscience allow matters to proceed without 
 raising my voice to arrest them.' 
 
 fc Go on ! • said his father ill-humouredly. 
 ' Lord bless me. It seems to me that yon were 
 in petticoats only a few days ago, and I whipped 
 yon over my knee with the back of the hair- 
 brush, and now yon are grown so old that you 
 stand up in judgment against your father, and 
 put me on the rack.' 
 
 ' I entreat you to listen to me,' said the 
 young man. ' No one will free you from blame 
 when the crash comes.' 
 
 ' What crash ? ' asked his father doggedly. 
 
 ' Open your eyes, your ears. I am not 
 steward, but for all that, I can perceive the 
 ripple and the run of the water before Niagara. 
 Consider, what are the estates valued at ? ' 
 
 8 That is more than I can say now. With 
 these bad years the land has depreciated one- 
 half. In some places there is no sale at all 
 for it.' 
 
 ' Guess.' 
 
 ' Let me see — no, hang it, I can't tell. 
 We only value for succession duty, and, thank 
 God, the Duke is still alive.' 
 
 1 What are the annual receipts ? '
 
 120 COURT ROYAL 
 
 'There I can meet you. In good years 
 forty thousand ; now about thirty, perhaps not 
 as much — but this is temporary, temporary de- 
 pression, only. The seasons have been against 
 us, and American competition. Farmers, 
 again, will not now put up with the out- 
 buildings and the dwelling-houses that contented 
 their fathers. Everything must be new. I 
 assure you we have been forced, literally 
 forced, to spend some thirteen or fourteen 
 thousand on the property of late.' 
 
 1 What are the debts ? ' 
 
 'You know that the old Duke was an 
 extravagant man. He spent a great deal on 
 the turf — more on the green baize. When 
 the present Duke came of age, he consented 
 to a mortgage on the Loddiswell estate and on 
 the Awton property, to relieve his father from 
 pressing difficulties, to the tune of four hundred 
 thousand pounds. I know we have to pay six- 
 teen thousand per annum on it, which is an awful 
 pull. Then there was the house, which was 
 begun by Duke Frederick Augustus. Ton my 
 word, what with building, and new furniture, 
 and ornamental laying out of the grounds, I 
 believe seventy thousand would be under the 
 mark. Then, when the Duke's three sisters
 
 BEAYIS 121 
 
 were married, they were given fifteen thousand 
 each, which was little enough. That had to 
 be raised by a mortgage on the Kingsbridge 
 manor. The Marquess got among a wild set 
 when he was in the army, and was thrown on 
 the Jews. I wish we could clear off his embarrass- 
 ments. The sum is not, in itself, much ; say 
 ten thousand, but the interest is extortionate.' 
 
 8 Stay,' said Beavis ; 8 the items you have 
 mentioned come to nigh on five hundred 
 thousand.' 
 
 8 Yes,' said his father, ; you won't be under 
 the mark when you say six hundred thousand. 
 There is the mortgage on Court Eoyal to Mr, 
 Emmanuel, and there are other matters. You 
 understate at six hundred thousand.' 
 
 8 Why, that makes an outleak of twenty- 
 four thousand per annum on a nominal income 
 of forty thousand.' 
 
 8 1 dare say. Then the charities of the 
 Duke — subscriptions, pensions, and the like — 
 come to something under twelve hundred. 
 And Lady Grace has her pin-money, and the 
 Marquess his allowance, and both the General 
 and the Archdeacon have something — no, I 
 wrong Lord Edward, he has abandoned his 
 claim.'
 
 122 COURT KOYAL 
 
 ' What is the expenditure on the house 
 and grounds, the household expenses, wages, 
 and the like ? ' 
 
 ' I cannot tell you, offhand, the items are 
 so many.' 
 
 4 Now, father, if, as you say, thirty thousand 
 be nearer the present income of the Duke than 
 forty thousand, and twenty-four thousand goes 
 out in mortgages, that leaves but six thousand 
 for everything.' 
 
 ' These are exceptionally bad times ; forty 
 thousand is the true income.' 
 
 1 The rate at which they are living is beyond 
 even sixteen thousand. You have deducted 
 nothing for all the outs that bleed a property in 
 land. For five or six years the income has not 
 been forty thousand, but there has been no 
 reduction in the style of expenditure. Whence 
 comes the money? Not a burden has been 
 shaken off, fresh are annually heaped on. Let 
 but one of the larger mortgages be called up, 
 and the crisis has arrived.' 
 
 His father put his hands to his head. 
 6 You exaggerate. Things are not as bad as 
 you represent them.' 
 
 ' They are as bad as they well can be. Is 
 there a single estate that is not mortgaged ?
 
 BEAVIS 123 
 
 There must be a sale of some of the property. 
 On the death of the Duke it will not be 
 possible.' 
 
 ' Sell ! ' exclaimed the steward, ' sell the 
 estates ! Impossible. Neither the Duke nor 
 the Marquess will consent. One would not 
 dare to make the suggestion to his Grace, it 
 would kill him.' 
 
 6 If not done voluntarily, it will be done 
 compulsorily.' 
 
 'The Marquess will marry an heiress, and 
 clear the property with her money. That is 
 simple enough. How can you be so pig- 
 headed, Beavis ? Do you not see that all we 
 want is time? With time everything will come 
 right.' 
 
 Beavis sighed. 
 
 4 What have you to say to this ? ' asked his 
 father triumphantly. ' Have I the last trump ? ' 
 
 1 1 have nothing, nothing more to say,' 
 answered the young man ; ' I will trouble you 
 no further, father.'
 
 124 COURT ROYAL 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE MARQUESS. 
 
 Next morning Beavis Worthivale walked to 
 Court Eoyal. He had access to the house at 
 all times. His sister was there permanently, 
 and he had been about it since he was a boy. 
 
 The house was large, forming a quadrangle, 
 with the state rooms on the garden side. The 
 Duke had his own suite of apartments ; so had 
 the Marquess, so also Lady Grace, and so also 
 Lord Eonalcl. Indeed, the Archdeacon had his 
 own rooms there kept for him, to which he 
 could come when he liked, and be at home. 
 He was a married man without a family, and he 
 found life dull at his Somersetshire parsonage, 
 with only three hundred people to instruct in 
 honour and obedience to the powers that be. He 
 had an admirable, managing wife, and a safe 
 curate, very ladylike, absolutely transparent, 
 whom he could trust to do nothing to surprise or
 
 THE MARQUESS 125 
 
 shock anyone, so perfectly good and colourless 
 was he. The Archdeacon's health suffered in 
 Somersetshire, and he was nowhere so well as 
 at Court Eoyal, where the sea air and the 
 society and good entertainment agreed with 
 him. Moreover, he was the man whom the 
 whole family consulted in every difficulty, and 
 he was thought and believed himself indispens- 
 able to his brothers. 
 
 The Marquess had his own valet and groom, 
 and sitting-room, and bed- room, and smoking 
 cabinet. He was a man of considerable taste, 
 and he and his sister had amused themselves in 
 fitting up his apartments in the most perfect 
 modern style. The walls of the sitting-room 
 were gilt, with peacocks' plumes, spread, 
 painted on the gold. The curtains were pea- 
 cock blue, sprinkled with forget-me-nots. 
 
 The carpet was an unfigured olive drugget 
 with blue, green, and gold-coloured mats and 
 jugs cast about it. He had a fancy for old Chelsea 
 figures, and for Plymouth ware, and his cabi- 
 nets and chimney-piece were crowded with 
 specimens bought at a time when Chelsea was 
 run up by the dealers, and fetched fancy 
 prices. His sister kept his room gay with 
 flowers. That was her special care, and she
 
 126 COURT EOYAL 
 
 fulfilled her self-imposed task well. The Mar- 
 quess always pretended to distinguish between 
 her bouquets and those arranged by other 
 hands during Lady Grace's absence. He told 
 her so privately, that he might not hurt poor 
 Lucy Worthivale, on whom the obligation 
 devolved when her friend was from home. 
 
 Lord Saltcombe's cabinet was not invaded 
 or interfered with. There he kept his hunting- 
 whips, his guns, his fishing-rods and the walls 
 were adorned with the heads and brushes of 
 foxes, tiger skins, and antlers of red deer. In 
 one corner was an easel, for he sometimes 
 painted. Against the wall a cottage piano, 
 which he sometimes played. Also a rack of 
 budding-knives and grafting tools, for he 
 sometimes gardened. In the window hung a 
 cage with a canary, which he sometimes fed, 
 sometimes starved, and sometimes overfed. 
 One wall was occupied by his libary, a mixed 
 collection of books: Eabelais, S. Thomas a 
 Kempis, Jean Paul, Spielhagen, Herbert 
 Spencer, ' The Lyra Messianica ' and Algernon 
 Swinburne, Victor Hugo, Emile Souvestre, 
 Zola, The Duke of Argyll, Thackeray, 'Ex- 
 plorations of Africa,' and Smith's ' Dictionary 
 of the Bible,' with ' Cometh up as a Flower '
 
 THE MAKQUESS 127 
 
 and ' Is Life worth Living ? ' thrust in between 
 the volumes, and a pamphlet on Poultry upon 
 the top of it. 
 
 Beavis Worthivale had known the Marquess 
 from childhood, but it cannot be said that he 
 understood him. In fact, no one understood 
 Inm, yet everyone liked him. He resembled 
 an audience- chamber, accessible to all, contain- 
 ing a closet of which no one possessed the key. 
 He spent his time in reading or in out-door 
 pursuits, yet he had no favourite study and no 
 darling occupation. He was accomplished, 
 knew several languages, was a fair classic, fond 
 of history, and liked books of travel. He read 
 whatever came in his way, changing his style, 
 and subject, and language for the sake of 
 contrast. He skimmed the work he took in 
 hand, but never studied it. Heading with him 
 was a distraction, not a pursuit ; a narcotic 
 which enabled him to forget life and its 
 burdens. 
 
 The Marquess was already forty, was full of 
 the vigour and beauty of manhood, but it was 
 easy to see that life was to him without object ; 
 that he exacted of it little, and cared little for 
 it. Always amiable, cheerful, agreeable, with 
 plenty of conversation and pleasant humour, he
 
 128 COURT ROYAL 
 
 was attractive in society, but was unattracted by 
 it. He could enter into an argument, but was 
 indifferent to the side on which he argued. He 
 argued to kill an hour, not to convince an 
 opponent. His uncle, the Archdeacon, was 
 sometimes alarmed about him, lest he should 
 become a sceptic ; but he was deficient in the 
 earnestness of purpose which would make him 
 take a line. He accepted traditional creeds, 
 religious and political, and customs social and 
 domestic, without consideration, with an under- 
 current of doubt. He never hurt anyone's 
 feelings, never transgressed a canon of good 
 taste. His eyes were open to the errors and 
 follies of men, and to the virtues of humanity, 
 but the former roused in him no indignation, 
 the latter no admiration. Although lie was 
 cheerful in society, this cheerfulness carried with 
 it an appearance of artificiality, and when he 
 was alone he lapsed into melancholy or indif- 
 ference. 
 
 He now and then made an excursion to 
 Brittany or Switzerland ; he had even been to 
 Brazil and South Africa. He came back with 
 embroidered kerchiefs and carved spoons, lion 
 skins and stuffed humming birds, and a good 
 deal to say about what he had seen, but
 
 THE MARQUESS 129 
 
 with no ambition to ascend peaks or explore 
 wildernesses. In politics he took no interest. 
 He rarely visited relatives and acquaintances, 
 disliking the trouble. He professed, and no 
 one doubted his sincerity, that he was happier 
 at home than anywhere else ; and more content 
 lounging out a purposeless existence than making 
 an effort to observe and please among strangers 
 and in strange places. 
 
 This had not always been the case. He 
 had been in the army, though never on active 
 service. The few years in which he was in 
 the -army formed the one epoch in his life in 
 which he had been lost to the sight of his 
 family. The young Marquess, who had been 
 somewhat spoiled at home, with great personal 
 beauty, fascinating manners, a kindly disposi- 
 tion, little knowledge of the world, and a ducal 
 coronet hanging over his head, had suddenly 
 been transferred from the quiet of Court Eoyal 
 to the vortex of the whirlpool of life. The 
 Duke, owing to his heart disease and advancing 
 years, had been obliged gradually to withdraw 
 from town, and to retire from an active part 
 in the social and political spheres to which 
 he belonged. Lady Grace was always with 
 him ; she would not leave her father for long, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 COURT ROYAL 
 
 consequently the world of Court Eoyal had 
 become a very quiet and a very small world. 
 The temptations to which a young man like the 
 Marquess would be exposed on entering the 
 army were hardly realised by his father and by 
 the Archdeacon. His sister had not the vaguest 
 suspicion of them. 'He is a Christian and a 
 gentleman,' said the Duke, ' and a Christian 
 and a gentleman, put him where you will, does 
 nothing unbecoming.' 
 
 At Court Eoyal none knew how he fared, 
 whether he fought or whether he fell. His 
 father heard, indeed, that lie was greatly admired 
 by the ladies and liked by his brother- officers, 
 and accepted this as his due. Then the Duke 
 found that his son was unable to live on the 
 annual sum allowed him. He heard that the 
 Marquess was in debt, and he wrote him a 
 stately reprimand, but he said to Lord Eonald, 
 ' It is natural. He must live up to his name 
 and title. It is unfortunate that the property 
 is so burdened and shrunk.' 
 
 After that, rumours got abroad that Lord 
 Saltcombe had been entangled in an intrigue 
 which was not creditable — with an actress ac- 
 cording to one version, with a married woman 
 according to another. Xo thing very definite
 
 THE MARQUESS 131 
 
 was known, and it was sedulously kept from 
 the ears of the Duke, Lord Edward, and Lady 
 Grace. 
 
 Lord Eonald alone knew the particulars, 
 but he was reserved. He never mentioned the 
 matter to anyone. 
 
 Presently the news came that the Mar- 
 quess was ill at Palermo. 1 1 did not know 
 that he had gone abroad,' said the Duke. 
 6 Ah ! I see there have been signs of activity 
 in Etna ; no doubt he went to witness an 
 eruption.' 
 
 A few months after, Saltcombe returned 
 home, with the General, who had gone out to 
 him. 
 
 Lord Saltcombe was greatly altered, ap- 
 parently a broken man. 
 
 He had been brought to the edo-e of the 
 grave by typhoid fever, c owing,' explained the 
 Duke, ' to the absence of sanitary arrangements, 
 which are indeed deficient in the best Continental 
 hotels. I sent out our own medical attendant, 
 otherwise Saltcombe would have been bled to 
 death by those Italian Sangrados.' 
 
 Gradually the Marquess recovered from his 
 illness, but though his physical health was 
 restored, his elasticity of spirit, his energy 
 
 k2
 
 132 COURT ROYAL 
 
 of character, were gone. He remained a prey 
 to apathy, and, as he made no effort to shake 
 this off, habit made it permanent. No one 
 inquired into the truth of the rumours that had 
 circulated, the best-disposed persons rejected 
 them as slanderous gossip. 
 
 The Marquess left the army, remained at 
 Court Eoyal. and settled into the uniform exist- 
 ence of a country gentleman. 
 
 When Mr. Worthivale told his son that the 
 marriage of the Marquess was to solve the family 
 difficulties, he expressed his hope and conviction 
 of the entire Kingsbridge family. The Duke 
 was desirous of seeing his son settled before he 
 died, and both the General and the Archdeacon 
 urged him to bestir himself and find a wife. 
 Lady Grace also, in her sweet, fondling manner, 
 approached the subject and endeavoured to 
 arouse him to the duty of marrying. Lord 
 Saltcombe listened with a smile, turned aside 
 the advice of his uncles with a jest, the entreaty 
 of his sister with a compliment and a kiss, and 
 his father's injunction with a promise to lay it 
 to heart. There it ended. He took no step to 
 find a wife, and though Lady Grace invited 
 friends to Court Eoyal with the hope that one 
 of them might arrest the attention of her
 
 THE MABQUESS 133 
 
 brother, the heart of Lord Saltcombe remained 
 invulnerable. 
 
 He saw through his sister's schemes and 
 laughed at them. He was warmly attached to 
 her, indeed she was his closest companion. She 
 loved him with equal sincerity and with even 
 greater tenderness. When his foot paced the 
 terraced garden she heard it, came down, linked 
 her hand in his arm, and walked up and down 
 with him as he smoked. 
 
 They had plenty to say to each other, but 
 he never allowed her to sound the depths of 
 his soul. The conversation between them con- 
 cerned the outer life, the events and interests of 
 every day. This association with his sister had 
 a refining and a purifying effect on Lord Salt- 
 combe. She was ignorant of what had occurred 
 during his brief career in the army, and did not 
 inquire. ^Yhatever it was, it had troubled and 
 stained his mind and conscience, and daily inter- 
 course with his sister restored the purity to the 
 mind and the sensitiveness of the conscience, 
 but it did not give him energy and ambition. 
 
 Beavis Worthivale was very little younger 
 than the Marquess ; they had known each other 
 from childhood, and had always been on fami- 
 liar and friendly terms. Beavis, as a boy, had
 
 134 COURT ROYAL 
 
 shared tutors with Lord Saltcombe, and had 
 been his companion in play. Of late, the friend- 
 ship had been interrupted ; Beavis had been 
 from home, and Saltcombe in the army. Since 
 the illness of the Marquess, Beavis had been 
 unable to recover his place in the intimacy of 
 the young nobleman that he had occupied as a 
 boy. 
 
 Mr. Worthivale, in his devotion to the 
 Kingsbridge family, had readily given up his 
 daughter to be the companion of Lady Grace, 
 without considering whether it was to his, her, 
 and his son's advantage. By surrendering Lucy 
 he had deprived his widowed old age of its 
 chief comfort, his house of its proper mistress, 
 and his son of his best companion. Lucy, 
 moreover, was reared in the lap of luxury, 
 which she could not expect elsewhere ; she was 
 not likely to marry anyone of rank, and she 
 was withdrawn from the sphere where she 
 might have found a husband suitable in birth 
 and fortune. She would grow up at Court 
 Eoyal to be an old maid, a hanger-on of the 
 ducal house, unable to endure the roughs and 
 chills of life outside its walls. 
 
 In social intercourse men and women act 
 and react on one another unconsciously. Men's
 
 THE MARQUESS 1'6'i 
 
 ininds give to those of women the impulse they 
 require, and women's minds afford a corrective 
 and softening influence to those of men. By 
 daily association women are stimulated to mental 
 activity, and men's opinions are rounded and 
 smoothed. From the clash of minds, male and 
 female, the latter take body, the former acquire 
 temper. Woman stimulates man's imagination, 
 man awakes her reason. 
 
 Through the Straits of Gibraltar flow two 
 currents — one, setting outward, is warm, and 
 light, and sweet ; the other, setting inward, is 
 cold, and heavy, and salt. It is the presence 
 of these opposed currents gliding past each 
 other that saves the Mediterranean from stag- 
 nating into a Dead Sea. It is the constant 
 movement of the male and female currents, one 
 giving warmth, the other salt, which preserves 
 civilisation in purity and health. Lucy had 
 suffered by her separation from her brother and 
 father. She had lost mental and moral inde- 
 pendence, and Worth i vale and his son had lost 
 the comforts of home and the polish which the 
 presence of a lady can alone impart. The 
 steward was unconscious of the sacrifice he had 
 made, but his son saw and regretted it. 
 
 As Beavis was walking alon^ the corridor
 
 136 COURT ROYAL 
 
 towards Lord Saltcombe's apartments, the 
 General's door opened and Lord Ronald ap- 
 peared in bis dressing-gown, a fez on his grey 
 hair, and a pipe in his hand. 
 
 ' What, Beavis, you here this morning ? No 
 use going on to Saltcombe ; he is not out of bed. 
 Here, step into my room and have a chat till 
 the lazy fellow is ready to receive you.'
 
 137 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 LORD ROXALD. 
 
 Lord Eonald Eveleigh, K.C.B., was a widower. 
 He had lost botli his wife and his children. His 
 wife, a very sweet and beautiful woman, whom 
 he had tenderly loved, had died of consumption, 
 after having given him two children, a boy and a 
 girl. He, as a soldier, had tried to harden his little 
 ones by exposure, convinced that all delicacy is 
 due to c molly-coddling.' The consequence was 
 that just as he was congratulating himself that 
 his theory was successful, his children died of 
 congestion of the lungs. They had inherited 
 their mother's delicacy, and injudicious treat- 
 ment precipitated the inevitable end. Left a 
 widower, and childless, the old General had ac- 
 cepted his brother's invitation, and had settled 
 for the rest of his days at Court Eo)\al, a spot 
 dear to him as no other spot on earth, because 
 associated with his childhood.
 
 138 COURT ROYAL 
 
 He had inherited all the Eveleigh pride of 
 birth, and though he cared nothing for his com- 
 fort, and despised luxury, yet he believed the 
 state maintained at Court Eoyal to be indis- 
 pensable to the dignity of the family, and re- 
 spected it accordingly. His own rooms were 
 plainly furnished. Their arrangements were 
 stiff and tasteless. Over the chimney hung his 
 sabre ; at the side, on a level with his eye, as he 
 sat in his arm-chair, were three medallion por- 
 traits of his wife and his two children. 
 
 In manner he somewhat lacked the polish 
 of his brothers and nephew, and in features he 
 was more rugged. His mind was simple and 
 his heart tender. The ambition of his life ended 
 when the earth fell on his boy's coffin, but not 
 its pride : that would remain as long as the 
 family lasted. When Lord Eonald came to 
 settle at Court Eoyal, he had no idea of the 
 financial conditions of the Duke. There had 
 been hitches in the payment of his annuity, 
 which was charged on the estates; eventually 
 the money had come, though it came irregularly. 
 He recollected the splendour of the house when 
 he was a boy, under the splendid Duke Fred- 
 erick Augustus, his father — the annual season 
 in town at Kingsbridge House, Piccadilly, the
 
 LORD ROXALD 139 
 
 balls, the round of dinners, the whirl of enter- 
 tainments, the drawing-rooms, the concerts, the 
 carriages, the stables, the army of domestics. 
 Now the Duke never went to town. The doctors 
 forbade his travelling by rail. Lord Eonald 
 chafed at this banishment to the country, not 
 because he liked a season in town, but because 
 he thought the presence of the family in London 
 during the season comported with its dignity 
 and duty to society. The retirement of the 
 Duke had synchronised with the entry of the 
 Marquess into the army. A residence in town 
 was requisite only for Lady Grace, and Lady 
 Grace least of all desired it. At Court Eoyal 
 the customary state was kept up, but then, a 
 palace on the south coast of Devon, ten miles 
 from a railway, is not the place where many 
 people can be found to be impressed by that 
 state. 
 
 After a while his eyes opened to the real 
 condition of affairs, and he was fain to admit to 
 himself that it was a happy thing for the family 
 it had an excuse for not spending the season in 
 town. The General tried to shut his eyes to 
 the truth, tried to disbelieve what he could 
 hardly credit. Without being remarkably sharp- 
 sighted, Lord Eonald had a sound judgment.
 
 140 COURT ROYAL 
 
 The future began to alarm him. He was much 
 attached to his nephew, but he was angry with 
 him. 
 
 'Why the deuce does he not marry an 
 heiress ? ' he muttered to himself, as he sat 
 smoking, oppressed with low spirits. s It is 
 high time that the wretched affair which came 
 to an end at Palermo should be forgotten, and 
 the consequences effaced. The creature was 
 not worth fretting over. It was a bad job, but 
 it is done with, and the volume containing that 
 romance should be shut and put away. Is the 
 title to become extinct, the family to die out, 
 because of that piece of damaged goods ? What 
 is Saltcombe waiting for ? There is nothing to 
 expect. Why is he not man enough to shake 
 himself free of the recollection as he shook him- 
 self free of the entanglement ? The hope of the 
 family hangs on him. Upon my soul, Salt- 
 combe is enough to drive one mad.' 
 
 Heated by his reflections, Lord Eonald had 
 attacked his nephew on the subject more than 
 once, and had been repelled with such coldness 
 that he had retired each time without effecting 
 anything, and thoroughly disconcerted. He 
 lost patience, but did not know what to do. 
 He spoke to the Duke, and his Grace once or
 
 LORD ROXALD 141 
 
 twice addressed his son on the advisability of 
 his marrying. But that led to no alteration in 
 his conduct. 
 
 Lord Eonald suspected more than he knew. 
 As there was a constantly recurring difficulty 
 about the payment of his annuity, he allowed it 
 to fall into arrears, content if he had enough 
 to defray his ordinary trifling expenses. The 
 Marquess, who was supposed to see to business 
 for his father, apologised to him for the delay, 
 but the General always passed the matter over 
 with a joke about his having no wants in a 
 house where his wishes were forestalled. As 
 his annuity was in arrear he forbore making in- 
 quiries, lest he should seem wanting in delicacy. 
 He was told by the steward that the years were 
 bad, the value of land was depreciated, rents 
 were reduced twenty per cent., the farmers could 
 not pay, farms were thrown on hand. He was, 
 moreover, not a man of business, had no idea of 
 balancing accounts, and never could distinguish 
 between creditor and debtor in a ledger. The 
 uneasiness of the steward, his running to and 
 fro to consult with the Marquess, the periodical 
 invocations of the Archdeacon to advise, the 
 troubled face of Lord Saltcombe at times, the 
 difficulty in meeting pressing payments, the
 
 142 COURT ROYAL 
 
 appearance, finally, of that hard, practical-look- 
 ing lawyer at dinner on the Duke's birthday, 
 like Banquo's spectre at the table, had made 
 him very uneasy. 
 
 'What the devil keeps Saltcornbe from 
 marrying, and relieving the situation? It is 
 his duty. Sometimes we go at the enemy in 
 direct charge, at others sweep round and take 
 them in rear. We can't dislodge those who 
 hold the mortgages with the bayonet. Salt- 
 combe must execute a flank movement, with 
 an heiress. Years slip away, the cloud grows 
 denser, debts become heavier, creditors more 
 pressing. Saltcornbe is forty, the age is passing 
 at which he can pick and choose. He will 
 soon have to take whom he can get.' 
 
 The General was thinking this, when he 
 heard the steps of Beavis, and opened the door. 
 
 ' Come in, my boy, come in,' he said. ' Salt- 
 cornbe will not be ready to see you for another 
 hour. What do you want with him ? ' 
 
 Beavis hesitated. He did not know what to 
 say. His heart was full, he could think of 
 nothing but what troubled him. He considered 
 a moment, and then resolved to be plain with 
 the General. It could do no harm, it might do 
 good.
 
 LORD RONALD 143 
 
 'I want to see Lord Saltcombe on business.' 
 
 ' What ? — connected with that lawyer fellow 
 here last night ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, Lord Eonald. I have no message 
 from him, but I have asked him to postpone 
 meeting my father and the Marquess till I have 
 had an interview with the latter.' 
 
 ' What is the matter ? Is there a secret ? ' 
 
 ' No secret — at least, none to be kept from 
 you, my Lord. It concerns the family affairs.' 
 
 ' Family affairs ! ' groaned the General ; 
 ; then I want to hear nothing about them. I 
 am an old soldier, and not a steward, or a 
 lawyer, or an accountant.' 
 
 ' For all that,' said the young man, ' I wish 
 greatly to talk the matter over with you. It 
 seems to me that you, Lord Eonald, may do 
 here that which no one else can effect.' 
 
 ' What is that ? I can do nothing. I am 
 the last in the house.' 
 
 ' You can do much if you will make the 
 attempt, my Lord. Excuse me if I am pre- 
 sumptuous, but I am in earnest.' 
 
 ' I am sure you are. You are a good boy. 
 Go on. Speak out.' 
 
 ' It is a very unpleasant thing to speak 
 words that cut the ear they enter ; however, in
 
 144 COUBT ROYAL 
 
 this case it is a duty. I suppose you know that, 
 what with bad years, and the heavy burdens 
 on the property that have been accumulating, 
 and with the inaction of the Marquess, the state 
 of affairs is about as bad as it can be ? My dear 
 father will not realise it. His Grace knows, 
 and, I suppose, must know nothing of it. The 
 Marquess is aware, but does not take the in- 
 itiative, and you, Lord Eonald ' 
 
 ' I shut my eyes,' interrupted the General. 
 ' No, that is not altogether the case. I see, and 
 am bewildered. I cannot move in the matter. 
 I am awkwardly situated. In fact, the Duke is 
 behindhand with me — not that I want the money, 
 I have my half-pay, but the fact ties my hands, 
 I cannot interfere. I have touched on the sub- 
 ject indeed to the Duke, but he supposes I refer 
 to the losses sustained by the family in my 
 grandfather's time. He was a sad rake. I do 
 not like speaking about it to Saltcombe, for 
 certain reasons of my own. He is reserved 
 with me ; he never invites my confidence. So 
 we go on in faith. Times will mend. Some- 
 thing will turn up. Legacies will rain gold. 
 We don't eat our soup as scalding as it is served.' 
 
 6 Expenses ought to be cut down in every 
 way at once.'
 
 LORD RONALD 145 
 
 ' It has been clone. The Duke no longer 
 goes to town for the season. How any further 
 economy is to be practised here I do not see. 
 The house must be kept up, the gardens and 
 grounds maintained in order — the stables — 
 where would you begin ? A duke cannot live 
 like a curate in furnished lodgings, on chops 
 alternating with cutlets and steaks, and a maid- 
 of-all-work to cook and dust, and make the beds/ 
 
 ' Would it not be advisable,' asked Beavis 
 in a low tone, with his eyes on the carpet — 
 ' would it not be well to make an effort, and 
 put up with inconveniences, rather than allow 
 the avalanche to rush down on your heads ? ' 
 
 Lord Eonald took Beavis by the arm, and 
 paced the room with him, before he replied. 
 The old General's face was pale, and his lips 
 quivered. 
 
 ' My dear boy, you imagine matters worse 
 than they really are. You have allowed your 
 mind to prey on your fears, and they have as- 
 sumed the appearance and weight of a night- 
 mare. It is impossible for such a catastrophe 
 to overtake us. Think what we are, what our 
 family is, and has been ! Think what magni- 
 ficent estates we have owned — and, indeed, we 
 are not denuded yet.' 
 
 VOL. i. l
 
 146 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Beavis looked up, and saw that the old 
 man was trying to silence his own convic- 
 tions. Beavis was pained to have made him 
 suffer, but it was necessary for every individual 
 member of the family to be roused to face the 
 danger. 
 
 ' Dear Lord Bonald, T am not frightened 
 by fancied dangers. The danger is knocking 
 at the door. Would to God it were not so, 
 but I cannot deceive myself. It is. I see you 
 all here lulled in unconsciousness, losing time, 
 letting slip opportunities of recovery which may 
 never return, and delaying retrenchment, whilst 
 retrenchment is availing.' 
 
 The General sighed. ' There is a God over 
 all,' he said ; ' we must trust to Providence.' 
 ' And do nothing ? ' asked Beavis. 
 ' What is to be done ? I dare not speak to 
 the Duke. Saltcombe would not listen to me, 
 or, if he did listen, would shrug his shoulders 
 and go his way.' After a pause, during which 
 he smoked hard, he asked, ' What was that 
 lawyer lugged in here for yesterday? What 
 has he come to Court Eoyal about ? ' 
 
 ' He has come concerning a transfer of the 
 mortgage held by the Messrs. Stephens to a 
 €ertain Emmanuel, who lias already his hand
 
 LORD EOXALD 147 
 
 on the home estate, with park and house, and 
 has negotiated a loan or two besides.' 
 
 ' What of that ? ' 
 
 4 And there is to be another loan of five 
 thousand.' 
 
 ' That is not much. A trifle.' 
 
 * A trifle ! but there have been so many of 
 these trifles accumulated, and now they are an 
 intolerable burden. A pound of feathers weighs 
 as much as a pound of lead. Lord Saltcombe 
 should be roused to look into the debts of the 
 family, and form some decision as to what is 
 to be done.' 
 
 ' You want me to stir him up ? I do not 
 relish the task, and I doubt my ability to wake 
 him.' 
 
 ' He must be shaken out of his apathy.' 
 
 ' I do not believe it is possible.' 
 
 ' Then everything remains in statu quo — 
 captain, pilot, crew, all must have their sleep 
 out whilst the vessel fills. It is cruel to wake 
 them. They need repose. It is impossible to 
 rouse some, they sleep so sound. All at once 
 the ship gives a lurch, and the waves engulf 
 her, as all wake up and rub their eyes, and ask 
 where they are ? ' 
 
 The General's pipe was out. He turned his 
 
 L 2
 
 148 COURT ROYAL 
 
 face to the window to hide the emotion painted 
 on it. Beavis had spoken strongly — possibly 
 too strongly ; the words had poured scalding 
 from his heart. He was a young man. He 
 was not called in by the family to consult on 
 its affairs. He had assumed the office unsoli- 
 cited. Perhaps he was troubling the old man 
 in vain. 
 
 The silence remained unbroken for some 
 while. 
 
 Lord Eonald struck a match, but could not 
 relight his pipe ; his hand shook, so did the 
 pipe between his lips. He threw the match 
 away, and laid his pipe on the chimney-piece. 
 Then he held out his hand to Beavis, without 
 looking him in the face, and said, ' God bless 
 you, dear boy ! You are acting as your 
 honourable and kind heart prompts. At a 
 time when everyone thinks of self, it is plea- 
 sant to meet with one who cares for the for- 
 tunes of others.' He sighed. ' You are all of 
 you good, true, all of you — your worthy father, 
 your dear sister, whom we love as our own 
 child, and yourself. You have spoken to me 
 sharply, and I know what it has cost you to do 
 so — you who have been reared in reverence 
 for the family. You have acted as a man of
 
 LORD RONALD 149 
 
 principle should act, but then, what is the 
 good ? The transfer will be executed, the fresh 
 loan contracted, in another hour. It is too late 
 to prevent that.' 
 
 ' Yes,' answered Eeavis, ' it is too late to 
 prevent that, but it is not too late to say, " This 
 shall be the last. We have let matters slide 
 their downward way, now we will put on the 
 drag. And the first step towards stopping will 
 be to find out where we stand." ' 
 
 6 You are quite right, but I am no ac- 
 countant. Your father has the books. Salt- 
 combe is supposed to audit them.' 
 
 ' Lord Saltcombe must not only look over 
 the accounts, but take an interest in them.' 
 
 'Beavis,' said the old General, 'my debt 
 against the estate shall be cancelled ; but that 
 is nothing, as it would not be exacted. Let it 
 go. What is this five thousand for? ' 
 
 ' Current household expenses, I presume ; 
 but I do not know for certain.' 
 
 6 Let me find the money. Decline this five 
 thousand. It will be a relief to my mind that 
 I have stopped one additional loan. I have 
 my half-pay, and am able to put aside some 
 money. I have more than I want. If I drop 
 this into the gulf it is only a drop. I know I
 
 L-: 
 
 izi r; .- _ _/ 
 
 -_ - - -: I 
 
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 . "_._,.. 
 
 Beav >-j& morning, Uncle 
 
 — . . 
 
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 [ overslept nrreeli I sad; up 
 
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 I : -;. - . '. ' : 7 : :. '.'. 
 
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 * Then I am in the way. I will withdraw. 3 
 
 • ii. Si.:: :i:i. ~ ~ ~;.i -;-..-. ::";;> li: . 
 nil. 
 
 * My dear nude, I am a: Mi ^oitiflnvaie's 
 
 nil f-ry ::;::;::. —inn ii i*i if. 
 to sign leases, audit accounts, and consent to 
 
 if niii :::'fi I _ ii: Lii :: i 1:1: . 
 I cannot allow more time than that. The 
 
 :i:-:- -riv:;.— ". snii :.iiiri:-f : i it 
 brain. 3 
 
 T.i It:.' i iis: i >ii:i Yiiif .:-. 
 ~i in T: t.i in:™ :::: :. T— 71 := 
 ::iiii ill :>ii in ;, iijff: - 
 
 1 Well ? a transfer is not a mitro^lycerine 
 bomb. I am impatient to make iL I am 
 1:1 _ :: lii i: i :.i". Lit :i: i i-f tii 
 . i " . I- . in • . . 
 
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 • iii :i v. t : i I ; i ; : ki ; ~ i : — — 7 1: - 
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 to stay. I have much to talk to yon about* and 
 :.ii i-ie 11 1 if ' 
 
 Yin ^:iii —15 v-iv-.i Ii :i 
 in nii ::.::. I.I i- "i fin liii: 
 
 n-n :5 :::z.:-- ii i. -1. L:ri Si:- 
 iii "i -.11:5 :. -ii ;:' n-iii :■: 11
 
 152 COURT ROYAL 
 
 the office-dust out of his lungs, and blow the 
 cobwebs from his brain.' 
 
 Beavis seized the opportunity to turn the 
 conversation. He saw that the General irri- 
 tated his nephew, without advancing the cause 
 he had at heart. But the old man could not 
 understand his tactics. 
 
 ' What a man you are, Worthivale ! ' he 
 said. ' Two minutes ago you were crying, 
 " House on fire ! " and now you are agog to be 
 junketing with the girls. I will not be put off 
 like this. You have stirred me up. I will 
 have it out with Saltcombe.' 
 
 6 My time, then, is yours,' said the Marquess 
 stiffly. 
 
 ' Very well,' said the General hotfy. ' You 
 must marry.' 
 
 ' Whom ? ' 
 
 Lord Eonald did not answer ; the question 
 was not an easy one to answer. 
 
 ' You remind me of the magistrates of the 
 old German towns, who had the bachelors before 
 them on attaining their majority, and bade 
 them marry within six weeks, or forfeit their 
 rights of citizenship.' 
 
 ; There was sense in that. Y"ou must marry, 
 Saltcombe.'
 
 LORD ROXALD 153 
 
 4 Uncle, I will contemplate the five Misses 
 Sheepwash to-day with that view/ 
 
 'Do not be absurd. You must marry 
 money.' 
 
 ' Beavis,' said the Marquess aside, ' you 
 will be at the pier at half-past twelve.' 
 
 The General was angered by his nephew's 
 coolness. 
 
 ' Saltcombe,' he said, * time enough has 
 elapsed since that Palermo affair ' 
 
 'For you to have learned, Uncle Ronald, 
 that I will endure no allusion to it,' said the 
 Marquess gravely, whilst his colour went. 
 
 The old man looked him full in the face, 
 and Lord Saltcombe met his eye firmly. He 
 said not another word, but turned with a sigh 
 to the window. The Marquess beckoned to 
 Beavis, and they left the room together.
 
 154 COURT ROYAL 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER. 
 
 The Fifth of November was a great day at the 
 Barbican. Was, it no longer is. The reason 
 why it is so no longer may be gathered from 
 what follows. 
 
 The Barbican offered about the only open 
 space in old Plymouth where a bonfire might 
 blaze, and fireworks explode without certainty 
 of setting the houses round in flames, or of 
 frightening horses and impeding traffic. More- 
 over, about the Barbican swarm and multiply 
 indefinitely the urchins who most love to cele- 
 brate the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. 
 They are deterred by no dread of injuriDg good 
 clothes, are restrained by no respectable parents. 
 They burn Guy Fawkes out of no deep-seated 
 enthusiasm for the Crown and the Bible, but out 
 of pure love of a blaze. 
 
 Now, stillness reigns on that momentous
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 155 
 
 anniversary at the Barbican ; no crackers spurt, 
 no pyre burns, for the police are there in force 
 on the evening to prevent a repetition of such 
 an event as that which took place on the occa- 
 sion we are about to record. 
 
 The broad quay, the proximity of the waters 
 and the coal barges, the good open space before 
 the houses, had impressed the youth for many 
 generations that no place was fitter for the fiery 
 celebration than the Barbican. There were bits 
 of old timber to be had for the asking or for the 
 taking. The owners of the tar and tow and 
 tallow store always contributed a cask, and 
 some black fluid highly combustible. The col- 
 liers that lay in Sutton Pool were ready to give 
 baskets of coal. 
 
 The adult population of the neighbourhood 
 was in sympathy with the exhibition, turned out 
 to see it, and contributed howls, cheers, and 
 groans. 
 
 The Barbicanites had no pronounced politi- 
 cal or religious antipathies. It was one to them 
 whose effigy was burnt, they hooted and howled 
 with equal enthusiasm whether the object re- 
 presented ' Old Boney,' Pius IX., or a Puseyite. 
 All they bargained for was that some one should 
 be burned — who mattered little.
 
 156 COURT ROYAL 
 
 On the last occasion when the Barbican was 
 illuminated by a bonfire, the guy represented a 
 local celebrity. Before that evening closed in, 
 what the guy was to be was known to every in - 
 habitant of the Barbican, except the individual 
 himself. Never had contributions flowed in 
 more copiously, and been given with greater 
 alacrity. Not a householder refused when soli- 
 cited, except only Lazarus, who, when solicited, 
 responded witli an oath, a lunge, and a whirl of 
 his stick. 
 
 Darkness fell. Joanna put up the shutters 
 as usual, and locked and barred the doors. 
 Lazarus looked with evil eye on the Fifth of 
 November celebrations as a criminal waste of 
 excellent fuel, and he made or pretended busi- 
 ness for the evening which would take him to 
 the other end of the town. 
 
 Lazarus had come to entrust the care of the 
 house and the business of the shop very much 
 to Joanna, whilst he carried on business of an 
 analogous but more respectable kind elsewhere. 
 He could place perfect confidence in Joanna. 
 She took as keen a relish as himself in driving a 
 bargain, and in ' doing ' a purchaser. He sus- 
 pected her, indeed, of secreting for her own use 
 some of the money she received, but this was
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER J 57 
 
 solely because he suspected everybody ; and in 
 this case his suspicions were unjust, for Joanna 
 was scrupulously conscientious in accounting to 
 him for every farthing she spent and received. 
 It was part of her duty to screw down the poor 
 and bleed them of their last drop of blood ; it 
 was part of her duty to throw dust into the eyes 
 of a buyer, and deceive him with lies and dis- 
 guises ; it was her duty to be true to her master. 
 Joanna was conscientious. 
 
 During the day Joanna had observed the 
 growth of a pile of combustible materials before 
 the house, and had engaged in many passages 
 of arms about it. She had remonstrated as to 
 its size and position ; and, finally, she had pil- 
 laged it. She had, by watching her opportu- 
 nities, succeeded in carrying off from it a quarter 
 of a ton of coals which she had stowed in the 
 closet under the staircase, till detected, and then 
 the urchins engaged on the erection of the pyre 
 kept a guard against further pilfering. 
 
 When she found that she could no longer 
 plunder the pile, she stormed against the pile- 
 builders, she invoked the aid of a policeman to 
 demolish it. It was in dangerous proximity to 
 the Golden Balls. What if the wind set that 
 way ? When the policeman failed to give her
 
 158 COURT ROYAL 
 
 redress, she appealed to the bystanders, the in- 
 habitants of the houses on the quay, but they 
 were all participators in the pyre, had sub- 
 scribed coin or contributed fuel for its erection. 
 
 After she had locked up the house, Joanna 
 retired to a window of the first floor, whence 
 she could follow the proceedings. The Barbican 
 was alive with people, and heads were protruded 
 from all the windows. The evening was fine, 
 no rain fell, no fog hung over the water and 
 wharf. Joanna was girl enough to enjoy a 
 blaze ; though old beyond her years in her 
 views of life and of men, she had not lost 
 childlike pleasure m what is beautiful and what 
 is exciting. 
 
 Presently Joanna heard the bray of a horn, 
 and the hubbub of voices mingled with jeers, 
 laughter, and whoops. A moment after a crowd 
 of boys, young men, and girls poured down the 
 narrow street that debouches on the quay, carry- 
 ing in their midst, supported on their shoulders, 
 seated on a chair above their heads, the Guy 
 Fawkes. Torches were borne and waved about 
 the figure, and on its reaching the open space a 
 Bengal light blazed up. 
 
 Joanna saw at a glance whom the effigy 
 was designed to represent, and why the cele-
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 159 
 
 bration had evoked so much interest on this 
 occasion. 
 
 The figure was that of Mr. Lazarus. There 
 could be no mistaking it. His peculiarities of 
 costume and attitude had been hit off with real 
 genius. A mask had been made or obtained 
 with a sausage nose, like his, and a smirk on 
 the thick lips, like his. His old fur cap, with 
 flaps to cover the ears, which he wore in the 
 shop, was faithfully reproduced ; so also his long- 
 tailed great coat ; his black tie, which would 
 turn with the knot under the ear, without a 
 vestige of linen collar. The effigy was repre- 
 sented holding a ham-bone, which it was 
 gnawing. 
 
 The crowd flowed from the street, and spread 
 over the Barbican open space. The figure was 
 planted in front of the Golden Balls, and three 
 groans were given for Lazarus the Jew. 
 
 Joanna withdrew from the window that the 
 people might not have the satisfaction of seeing 
 that they were observed. Her face flamed with 
 indignation and desire of revenge. She ascended 
 a chest of drawers in the store chamber nearest 
 the face of the house, whence she could watch 
 proceedings unobserved. After the groans for 
 Lazarus, a silence fell on the mob, and expect-
 
 160 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ant looks were cast at his door. They supposed 
 that the Jew, frenzied with rage, would rush 
 forth, cudgel in hand, to belabour all whom he 
 could reach. Disappointed in this anticipation, 
 they removed the guy to the bonfire, and planted 
 the figure, in its chair, on the top. Torches were 
 applied, and amid huzzas and capers, and a ring 
 of urchins dancing round the pile, the bonfire 
 burst into lurid blaze. 
 
 Joanna saw the faces of the crowd illumi- 
 nated by the fire. She saw T those who lounged 
 out of their windows looking on, laughing and 
 applauding. She gnashed her teeth with impo- 
 tent rage, and clenched her hands. She sat 
 crouched, frog-like, on the top of a chest of 
 drawers, with her lists closed, and her chin 
 resting on them. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' she muttered, ' you come to Lazarus, 
 all of you, when in need ; you can't do without 
 him, and yet this is the reward he gets for help- 
 ing you in trouble. Never mind, he has you all 
 in his grip. He will not scruple now to give a 
 squeeze, and your blood will run betAveen his 
 fingers. You also ! How dare you ! ' she ex- 
 claimed, and pointed to an attic window from 
 which peered a woman's face. The flames lit 
 up the room, and cast Joanna's shadow against
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 161 
 
 the wall, distorting and exaggerating the length 
 of her extended arm. Her finger indicated the 
 woman leaning forth from the garret window, 
 watching what went on below, and enjoying the 
 scene. That woman was the mother of two 
 children. She pawned the blankets every morn- 
 ing that had covered her and her sons by night, 
 for three-halfpence, and redeemed the children's 
 clothes for the clay. At night she pawned their 
 rags and released the blankets. Six per cent, is 
 the legal rate of usury, but Lazarus obtained 
 from this widow ^xe hundred per cent. And 
 this woman dared to applaud his being burnt in 
 effigy ? Whither is gratitude flown ? 
 
 Suddenly a report, a roar, then a burst of 
 cheers, followed by a crash, and dead silence ! 
 
 The ham-bone had gone off! That ham- 
 bone was a rocket disguised in coloured paper. 
 The designer of this exquisite piece of humour 
 had planned that the rocket, on exploding, 
 should shoot out to sea and extinguish itself 
 innocuously in the water ; but in the haste and 
 excitement of planting Lazarus on the pyre no 
 thought had been given to the pointing of the 
 head of the ham-bone. The only idea promi- 
 nent in the minds of the urchins was to set the 
 figure opposite the door of the Golden Balls. 
 VOL. i. m
 
 162 COURT ROYAL 
 
 The rocket was from the Government coast- 
 guard stores, liberally contributed by the man 
 invested with charge of them. 
 
 When the flame ignited the rocket it went 
 off with a rush and roar in quite the opposite 
 direction to the sea, crashed through a window, 
 and disappeared in the tow, tallow, and tar 
 warehouse. 
 
 One precious gift of nature is accorded 
 freely to Englishmen of all ranks and ages — the 
 aptitude of doing the right thing at the right 
 moment ; in a word, presence of mind. Those 
 present, the whole crowd of men and boys — 
 instantly realised the gravity of the situation, 
 and did that which was best to be done — they 
 took to their heels. The first to go was the 
 storekeeper who had contributed the rocket, 
 and he went home as fast as the rocket had 
 gone into the tow and tallow shop, slipped into 
 bed, and called his wife's attention to the clock 
 to enable her to swear that he had been laid 
 up at that time of the evening with a bronchial 
 catarrh. He was followed by everyone who 
 had lent a hand or given a halfpenny towards 
 the celebration. Thus the explosion of the 
 ham-bone cleared the quay in five minutes. 
 
 The bargemen looked on from their boats
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 153 
 
 in complacent expectation of a bonfire bigger 
 than that on which Lazarus was burning. 
 Only a few men stood about the pyre, and 
 endeavoured with rakes to thrust it over the 
 edge of the wharf into the Pool before the 
 police appeared. 
 
 Joanna had not observed what had taken 
 place. She had indeed seen the flash of the 
 rocket and heard the cheers, but from her 
 chest of drawers she could not see the tow and 
 tallow store. 
 
 Why had the crowd dispersed so sud- 
 denly ? Why was the bonfire being put out, 
 and the half-consumed Lazarus in his flaming 
 chair toppled into Sutton Pool ? 
 
 Joanna was roused by the sound of her 
 master's key in the side door. She remembered 
 that she had bolted the door, so she descended 
 to withdraw the bar and admit him. Then her 
 pent-up wrath found vent, and she told him of 
 the outrage. 
 
 ' Well,' said Lazarus, without signs of dis- 
 composure, ' it won't cost me a penny. Have 
 they singed one of my coats ? burnt my cap ? 
 Not a bit ! so it don't matter to me. Bun out, 
 Joanna, with your shovel, and see if you cannot 
 rescue some of the coals which are being 
 
 M 2
 
 If) 4 COURT ROYAL 
 
 wasted, and then look sharp and get me my 
 supper ready. Dear, dear ! The figure was 
 dressed like me, and all the beautiful clothes 
 burning. Don't you think we might fish him 
 out of the water and see what can be done 
 with the garments — they cannot be utterly 
 spoiled ! So they are raking out the fire, are 
 they ? Scared by the police, I suppose. It is 
 wicked, inconsiderate waste to toss coals and 
 sticks into the Pool. The supper can wait; 
 the apple won't get cold, and it may ripen by 
 delay.' 
 
 4 What is that?' exclaimed the girl, as a 
 flash of vivid yellow light smote in at the win- 
 dow. 'They're surely never gone and lighted 
 the bonfire again.' 
 
 ' They are burning what remains of the 
 coal. Oh, the wicked waste ! ' 
 
 ; No ! ' said Joanna excitedly ; 'the light 
 strikes from the wrong side of the street.' 
 
 She ran to the door, threw it open, and ut- 
 tered an exclamation of dismay. 
 
 The tow and tallow store was in flames ; it 
 had burst into blaze at once ; all the windows 
 on the second floor were vividly illuminated, 
 and from one a spout of fire issued and ran up 
 the walls. No one lived in the storehouse ;
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 165 
 
 but an old woman, very deaf, occupied an attic, 
 and she was wont to retire early to bed. 
 
 A light wind was blowing, likely to carry 
 the flames across the street upon the house of 
 the Jew. 
 
 Lazarus stood in the doorway behind the 
 girl. He shared her dismay, but gave louder 
 and more violent expression to it. He swore 
 and stamped. 
 
 8 The fire will catch me ! The fire will 
 burn me and all my pretty, pretty things ! 
 Where are the police? Where are the fire- 
 engines? What can I do to save myself? ' 
 
 ' Master,' said Joanna, recovering herself, 
 ' the shutters are up below, so that the base- 
 ment is safe. There is not much danger to be 
 apprehended till the flames issue from the roof ; 
 then it is possible they may be carried our way, 
 or that sparks will be dropped on our roof 
 and make the slates so hot that they will snap 
 and the rafters ignite.' 
 
 1 Oh, Joanna ! run, run with all your legs 
 after the fire-engine ! ' cried the Jew, wringing 
 his hands. ' If my house catches I am lost — 
 ruined past recovery ! I may as well die in it. 
 I could not survive its destruction. I cannot 
 bring my pretty things down ; I have no place
 
 166 COURT ROYAL 
 
 where to store them. If they are taken into 
 the street they will be stolen. There are thou- 
 sands of beautiful things here no money can 
 replace. It would take an army of men to 
 clear them all out in twenty-four hours ; and 
 the wicked flames allow no time. Bun, Joanna, 
 run for the engines ! I'll give a sovereign if 
 they will save my place.' 
 
 ' Master,' said Joanna, ' lock the door and 
 admit no one. The fire-engines will be here 
 before long. Come with me to the roof ; we 
 must protect that. We must carry up carpets, 
 and spread them over the slates.' 
 
 6 Carpets ! ' exclaimed Lazarus. ' They will 
 be burnt.' 
 
 ' The carpets rather than the whole house.' 
 
 ' Not number 247, that is a lovable old 
 Persian, worth a lot of money, not much worn. 
 Don't take that.' 
 
 ' Not if we can do without. We will carry 
 up the worst, and I will scramble on to the 
 ridge, and spread the carpets over the roof. 
 Then you must pass me water, and I will keep 
 them moist. I'll take a mop, and when sparks 
 fall I'll mop them out.' 
 
 ' Oh, Joanna, you are a clever girl ! Bun ! 
 This is better than the engines ; I shan't have
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 107 
 
 to pay for salvage if they send a little squirt 
 over me.' 
 
 Joanna made no answer, but fetched 
 buckets. At the top of the house was an 
 open lead rain-water tank. 
 
 ' You must help me with the carpets,' said 
 she hastily. ; Come, this is not the time to 
 stand bewildered and irresolute.' 
 
 The light shone fiercely, brilliantly illumin- 
 ing the room where they stood, like sunlight. 
 Everything in it was distinctly visible. 
 
 4 Not that Brussels ! ' cried the Jew ; ' it is 
 worth four shillings a yard, and there are a 
 hundred in it, that makes twenty pounds. I 
 cannot afford it ; I will not throw away such a 
 lot of money. Here, if it must be, take this old 
 bedroom Kidderminster, it is full of holes. No, 
 Joanna, keep your hands off the Axminster, it 
 is good as new, and has a border round it.' 
 
 ' Give me the Axminster. I must have it — 
 it is thick and will keep sopped with water. 
 longest. Help me up with it.' 
 
 Joanna went out upon the roof dragging 
 the heavy carpets after her by means of a rope 
 which she had looped about them, assisted by 
 Lazarus from below, who thrust the bundles up 
 the ladder and through the trap-dcor. He
 
 168 COURT ROYAL 
 
 assisted, but tempered his assistance with pre- 
 tests and groans. The girl scrambled, cat-like, 
 up the low-pitched roof, and flung the carpets 
 across the ridge, or fastened two together, and 
 spread one on each side upon the slates. 
 
 ' Give me another,' she shouted. ' Time is 
 precious ; I must, I will, have both the Persian 
 and the Brussels.' 
 
 ' The Persian is not to be parted with under 
 fifteen guineas,' moaned Lazarus, and then half 
 to himself, ' Guineas are an institution ; say 
 pounds when a purchaser asks the price, and 
 when he comes to pay swear to guineas. Will 
 you have this Kidder. ? ' 
 
 4 It is too thin,' answered the girl. ' See ! 
 The fire is in the upper story, and in ten minutes 
 will be through the roof. When that gives 
 way we shall be buried under a rain of fire. 
 Hark ! ' 
 
 6 You hear the engine coming,' said the Jew, 
 ( and the squealing of the old woman in the 
 garret. Joanna, take the Persian, take every- 
 thing, but save my house.' 
 
 In a brief time Joanna had covered the 
 roof on both sides with carpets and rugs of all 
 sorts and values, and had soused them well with 
 water. The Jew stood in the tank, up to his
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 169 
 
 waist, and filled the pails. The girl drew them 
 up to her by the rope attached to their handles. 
 She was seated astride on the apex of the 
 roof, and poured the contents of the pails 
 over the carpets. 
 
 Whilst Joanna and her master were taking 
 these precautions for the protection of the house 
 of the Golden Balls, great excitement prevailed 
 below. The street and the quay were crowded ; 
 the fire-engine played on the roofs adjoining 
 the burning house. At a window high up stood 
 the deaf old housekeeper, wringing her hands 
 and shrieking for help. The crowd roared, 
 women sobbed. The ladder was fixed, and a 
 fireman mounted to the rescue. The mob was 
 silent ; then cheered as the man put his arm 
 round the poor creature, and endeavoured to 
 bring her down. But she was too frightened 
 by the aspect of the depth she had to descend 
 to yield, and she struggled, and cried, and es- 
 caped back into the room filled with smoke and 
 twinkling with fire, bewildered, and in her 
 mazed mind unable to decide whether to risk 
 a fall or to perish in flames. The struggle was 
 of engrossing interest to those in the street ; 
 neither Joanna nor the Jew wasted a thought 
 on it. They were concerned only with the
 
 170 COURT ROYAL 
 
 precious house of the Golden Balls, and were 
 supremely indifferent to the fate of a stupid old 
 woman of seventy-three. 
 
 The firemen and the mob had eyes only for 
 the tow and tallow shop, and the rescue of the 
 housekeeper. When, at length, in spite of her 
 resistance, she was carried down the fire-escape, 
 and received unhurt at the bottom, then only 
 did they observe the proceedings on the roof 
 opposite. 
 
 A gush of vivid flame rushed up into the 
 air, over the pawnbroker's house. Joanna saw 
 the peril, and slipped down the opposite incline 
 of roof into the tank. Directly the danger was 
 over, she rose, scrambled again to her perch, 
 drawing a pail of water after her, which she 
 emptied over some fire-flakes that had fallen on 
 the roof. The spectators had held their breath, 
 believing that the flame had swept her away 
 and cast her down, broken and burnt. When 
 she reappeared she was greeted by a cheer, 
 of which she took no notice, not supposing it 
 was given to her. 
 
 ' There is a hole burnt in the Axminster,' 
 she called to Lazarus. 
 
 The Jew, standing in the tank, streaming 
 with water, held up his arm and answered, ' Oh,
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 171 
 
 Joanna, don't say so ! If that occurs again I'll 
 whack you.' 
 
 6 I cannot help it. I will mend the hole 
 after, if I can.' 
 
 ' Ah,' said Lazarus, dipping a bucket, ' mend 
 it, mend it ! ' 
 
 Id the meantime a consultation had taken 
 place in the street. ' That girl must come off 
 the roof,' said the Captain. ' We must throw 
 our water over it. We can't send the jet till 
 she removes ; it would knock her down. Lord ! 
 she is like a monkey cutting about up there.' 
 
 Joanna had seen a spark resting on the 
 roof beyond her reach, and had gone after it 
 with a mop and extinguished it. The firemen 
 knocked at the house-door, but met with no 
 reply. They tried to force it open, but it was 
 so firmly barred that it resisted their efforts. 
 
 6 Let be ! ' shouted a gentleman in evening 
 dress. ' Captain James, let me run up and dis- 
 lodge her.' 
 
 ' If you like, Mr. Cheek. It must be done 
 at once.' 
 
 A ladder was applied to the Jew's house, 
 and the gentleman mounted, armed with an axe, 
 broke one of the windows, and swung himself 
 into the house. Joanna and Lazarus, who had
 
 172 COURT ROYAL 
 
 observed nothing that went on below, were 
 amazed to see him emerge from the attic door 
 upon the roof. 
 
 ' Robbers ! burglars ! ' screamed the Jew. 
 4 111 call the police and have you taken into 
 custody. I'll shoot you ! What is it that you 
 want here ? ' 
 
 ' Come down at once ! ' shouted the gentle- 
 man in evening dress to the girl. ' Come down 
 from the roof immediately.' 
 
 1 She is protecting my house from fire ! ' said 
 the Jew. 4 She shall 'bide where she is.' 
 
 1 Come down ! ' called Mr. Cheek, disregard- 
 ing Lazarus. ' The roof of the house opposite 
 will give way in a minute, and you will be over- 
 whelmed with fire. The engine must play upon 
 this roof.' 
 
 8 I'll have no squirting here,' said the Jew. 
 1 Joanna and I can manage beautifully.' 
 
 ' She will be killed if she stays there,' said 
 the gentleman. 
 
 ' Not she ; she'll slip into the tank and duck, 
 as before.' 
 
 ' The engine cannot play till she descends, 1 
 remonstrated Mr. Cheek. 
 
 ' She shan't stir. You only want an excuse 
 to make me pay. Mark my protest. Squirt
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 173 
 
 as you will, you'll pump no money out of my 
 pocket. Joanna and I can manage first-rate 
 without you.' 
 
 "Without wasting another word on the Jew, 
 Mr. Cheek crept up the slope of the roof, and 
 seated himself on the ridge, astride, opposite 
 Joanna. The girl was wet through and through. 
 Her dark hair was loose, flapping about her 
 neck and shoulders, dank with moisture. The 
 yellow glare of the binning house was on her 
 face, the flames leaping in her dark eyes ; she 
 held the mop in one hand, and the empty pail 
 dangled from the other. Opposite her was Mr. 
 Cheek, in fine black cloth evening suit, patent 
 leather boots, white tie, and diamond studs. 
 
 ' Come down, you wild cat ! The roof 
 yonder will be in with a crash directly. Come 
 down at once, and let the engines play over 
 this house.' 
 
 ; Who are you ? Go your way, or I will 
 knock you into the street with my mop.' 
 
 1 Come down, you fool ! do you not realise 
 the danger ? You will be burned in a wave of 
 flame in another moment. Down at once, or I 
 give the signal, and a jet of water will knock 
 you over as sure as if you were shot/ 
 
 Joanna looked down into the street, and
 
 174 COURT ROYAL 
 
 realised the position. ' I will come,' she said 
 quietly ; ' you are right.' 
 
 She threw her foot over the ridge, and 
 slipped down. Mr. Cheek followed. 
 
 ' Oh dear ! ' exclaimed the Jew. ' Young 
 gent ! you've done for your dress suit ; but I've 
 some second-hand articles below you shall have 
 cheap.' 
 
 4 Come out of the tank,' said Mr. Cheek. 
 ' Come under cover at once, before the fire- 
 shower falls. Come in, as you value your life.' 
 
 ' Mr. Charles Cheek ! ' exclaimed Lazarus. 
 4 Bless me ! I did not recognise you at first. 
 We've done business together already, and, I 
 hope, not for the last time. I beg your pardon, 
 if I addressed you without proper respect.' 
 
 ' Come in ; come in at once. The hose is 
 playing.' 
 
 He drew the Jew after him clown the step, 
 and fastened the door. Joanna had already 
 descended. They heard the rush of the water 
 above their heads on the slates. 
 
 5 Upon my word,' said the young man, ' that 
 was a clever idea of yours, covering the roof 
 with wet carpet.' 
 
 ' My Joanna suggested it,' answered the Jew.
 
 THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER 175 
 
 8 A girl that, with the head of a man on her 
 shoulders — but eats like rust, and grows like a 
 debt/ 
 
 ' Well done, you girl ! ' said the young man. 
 ' I must have a look at you.' 
 
 He turned, and saw Joanna, hanging behind, 
 in shadow. He caught her by the shoulders, 
 and drew her to the window, where the glare of 
 the burning warehouse would fall over her face. 
 She was self-composed, and thrust her wet hair 
 back behind her ears, and then, full of confidence, 
 raised her eyes and encountered his. 
 
 ' Upon my word, a fine girl. Of course 
 there are wits behind such great clever eyes. 
 By Jove ! there is devilry there as well.' 
 
 He dropped his hands, as with a crash the 
 roof of the house opposite fell, and they seemed 
 to be enwrapped in flame and light as of the sun. 
 Then they heard the rattle of falling ashes on 
 the slates above them, and the redoubled roar 
 of the water extinguishing the fire that had 
 lodged overhead. 
 
 None of them spoke for some minutes. 
 
 Presently Mr. Cheek said, ' I believe the 
 girl's expedient has saved your house, Mr. 
 Lazarus. I must have a look at her again by
 
 176 COURT ROYAL 
 
 daylight. Now I am off. You did not know 
 me as an amateur fireman, Lazarus, did you ? 
 I am hand-and-glove with Captain James. Often 
 help. What is the name of the little devil ? 
 Joanna ? Farewell for the present, Joanna, we 
 shall see each other again. Au revoir ! '
 
 I / 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 WHO WAS RACHEL? 
 
 Ox the morrow of the fire, Lazarus ascended to 
 the roof and wailed over the spoilt carpets. 
 Joanna consoled him as best she could ; she 
 pointed out to him the masses of charcoal that 
 had fallen on them, and which, naming or 
 glowing, would infallibly have split the slates 
 had they fallen on them. 'Then, even if the 
 timbers did not burn, you would have had to 
 call in the masons to mend the roof, and trades- 
 men, as you well know, are shameless. They 
 would put their nails through the lead gutters 
 to make work for the plumbers, and break 
 additional slates to run up their own bills, and 
 smash windows to force you to call in the 
 glazier, and let the water in on the rafters to 
 rot them, and necessitate the coming of the 
 carpenter.' 
 
 4 That is true, very true, Joanna ; tradesmen 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 COURT ROYAL 
 
 are scoundrels. Nevertheless, I must lament 
 over my loss ; it is terrible, it goes to my soul, 
 it corrodes it like canker. The Persian was a 
 real beauty, and the tapestry Brussels was a joy 
 to contemplate. Such colours, such posies of 
 flowers, and no defect anywhere, except an oil- 
 stain in one spot where a lamp had been spilt, 
 and that might have been cleaned for a few 
 shillings. We must have the carpets down as 
 soon as they are dry, and go over them care- 
 fully. With a darning needle and some coloured 
 wools, and little patches put in from old carpets, 
 I dare say you m ty disguise the worst blemishes. 
 Then, my dear, when you unroll them before 
 purchasers take care to expose the uninjured 
 end. There is a great deal, Joanna, in the roll- 
 ing of fabrics. Always look well which end is 
 most damaged, and begin rolling with that ; 
 then, when you show your goods you show to 
 advantage.' 
 
 When they redescended to the storerooms, 
 Mr. Lazarus said, ' Dear me ! a window broken ! 
 That was done last night by Mr. Charles Cheek. 
 He meant well, no doubt, but he has done us a 
 damage that will cost many shillings to repair. 
 Not only are the panes broken, but the wood- 
 work is cut away. lie is a gentleman, and
 
 WHO WAS RACHEL? 179 
 
 when he returns, as he said he would, you had 
 better point out the damage, and make out a 
 case to him that I hold you responsible, and that 
 you will have to repair it from your own pocket. 
 If you manage matters well you may get twice 
 the value of the repairs from him, and I think 
 I can patch up the window myself. I am skil- 
 ful with my knife, and I have diamonds by the 
 dozen wmerewith to cut glass. Putty is easily 
 made with white lead and boiled oil. I don't 
 want any tradesmen in my repository. Light- 
 fingered gents they.' He looked round his 
 storerooms and rubbed his hands. ' What a 
 mighty piece of good luck it was that the tow 
 and tallow shop burnt instead of this emporium 
 of beauty and utility ! I am sure, Joanna,' he 
 added, with unction in his tones, ' we ought to 
 be truly thankful for mercies ; and I hope, my 
 child, you will take this to heart, and be thank- 
 ful that the old housekeeper over the way was 
 burnt instead of me and you.' 
 
 6 She escaped,' said the girl. ' She was saved 
 by the fire-escape.' 
 
 ' That modifies the case,' observed the Jew. 
 ' Still, though things did not go as far as they 
 might have gone, we shan't do wrong to be 
 thankful. At least, you can.' The Jew looked 
 
 x 2
 
 180 COURT ROYAL 
 
 with complacence at Ms collections of glass, 
 china, furniture, and clothing, and sighed. 
 1 What a quantity of beautiful things we have 
 here ! ' he exclaimed. * I could sit by the 
 hour looking at them, watching the play ol 
 light over the cupboards and washhandstands, 
 and in and out among the old clothes. It is 
 lovely. Don't talk to me about landscape ! I've 
 seen folks sit on the Hoe and look out over 
 Plvmouth Sound, and the Mount Edgeumbe 
 woods, and Maker Point, and say it was all a 
 lovelv, ever-varying scene. I can make nothing 
 of it ; but I do see a feast of beauty in these 
 storerooms. This is the sort of landscape to 
 gratify the healthy eye. Dear! dear! dear! 
 how could Eachel ever make up her mind to 
 leave this : 
 
 • Eachel ! ' exclaimed the girl. 'Who was 
 she : 
 
 Lazarus shook his head. 4 This is a vale of 
 tears,' he said, ; full of moths. There is one 
 yonder, Joanna ; kill it.' 
 
 • TATio was Eachel ? ' asked Joanna. 
 
 ; I wish you would go sharp after that moth,' 
 said the Jew. ; Dear alive ! the mischief these 
 moths do is awful.' 
 
 6 Who was I: iiel? 1 asked Joanna as
 
 - RACHEL? 181 
 
 ; I will till you have satisfied 
 
 me.' 
 
 I will tell you by-and-by.' The Jew sighed. 
 'Ah ! Joanna, I am not the ungrateful old master 
 may have supposed me. You have done 
 me many a service, but noDe greater than that 
 of last night. I know I am indebted to ; 
 less the value of the carpets spoilt by the fire. 
 Deduct them from the total and still something 
 
 ains, not much, but a balan: •;• — .. -mall 
 
 balance. It is pleasant to have a balance in 
 
 one's favour, is it not, Joanna: I ill show 
 
 mv gratitude. We will have a regular 
 
 ich for suj per. I have some tinned 
 
 tomatoes. Tomatoes are said to be nutritious, 
 
 and clear the complexion. I had half a dozen 
 
 tins and one over from a broken grocer in 
 
 Street. We'll debauch on the odd 
 
 tin. I am double your _ . Jo . ad there- 
 
 require twice as much nutriment as you, so 
 I shall tomatoes to your one. You, 
 
 however, may enjoy the gravy. S y : or bread 
 in that, and close your eyes whilst it lies on 
 
 r tongue. A tin of tomato is sold for one- 
 and- threepence at the grocers and ten pec 
 the stores H .._ the expense; we will : 
 od things for once ; and we will wash down
 
 182 COURT ROYAL 
 
 the tomatoes with water. That, Joanna, is the 
 drink of the Quality. No more tawny old port, 
 its clay is done. Not nutty sherry any more. 
 Not claret, nor Burgundy ; not even champagne. 
 They are all played out. Now the Quality are 
 teetotal. Let us be of the Quality also, and 
 teetotal too. Fashions change in drinks as in 
 dress. Now it is cardinal red and marsala, then 
 crushed strawberries and water. Prepare the 
 table, Joanna.' 
 
 The girl obeyed without enthusiasm. She 
 placed bread on the table in the kitchen, lighted 
 the fire in the stove to heat some vegetables, and 
 threw a ragged but clean cloth over the table. 
 One candle and the fire in the stove illumined 
 the wretched kitchen. 
 
 4 1 take a little whisky with my water,' said 
 the Jew, pouring some spirits into his glass, 
 ' but I do not approve of alcohol for the yoimg. 
 It stunts their growth, and sows the seeds of a 
 craving for strong liquor which may in after-life 
 bring them to D. T.' 
 
 ' Who was Eachel ? ' asked Joanna. 
 
 1 Upon my word, Joanna ! What persistency 
 you have ! When you have set your head on 
 doing a thing you do it, and when you have set
 
 WHO WAS EACH EL ? 183 
 
 your head on knowing a thing you give a body 
 no peace till you know it.' 
 
 ' You promised to tell me.' 
 
 ' I must keep my promise ; I am a conscien- 
 tious man, and when I say a word I hold by it. 
 That is the principle of business. Only at the 
 last moment give your word a twist in your 
 direction, if you can. When you have agreed 
 to sell for three sovereigns don't make out the 
 bill for four, but for three guineas.' 
 
 'Who wasEachel?' 
 
 ' Snuff the candle, Joanna, with your fingers, 
 and — there — don't throw the snuff on the floor 
 lest you set it on fire ; and don't wipe your fin- 
 gers in your apron where the smut will show, 
 but in your hair, where it will not be seen.' 
 
 c Who was Rachel?' 
 
 4 1 will tell you, child, but really you irritate 
 me with your pertinacity. I will first light a 
 pipe. I don't offer you one, as it is not decent 
 for a woman to smoke. The habit might grow 
 and interfere with your matrimonial prospects. 
 Some women take cigarettes on the grounds that 
 they suffer from asthma or bronchitis. You are 
 sound in throat and lung, Joanna, sound as a 
 bell. Xever knew anything the matter with
 
 184 COURT ROYAL 
 
 you except inordinate appetite. Let me have 
 that chair, Joanna. It is the only one with a seat. 
 You can accommodate yourself on the fender.' 
 
 An old flour-barrel stood in the corner. 
 Joanna sprang on it and seated herself thereon. 
 Then, fixing the Jew with her keen eyes, she 
 asked again, ' Who was Rachel ? ' 
 
 6 Really, Joanna,' said the pawnbroker, 'your 
 ways are inhuman, and give one a cold shiver. 
 You squat there on the cask like a goblin in an 
 illustrated fairy-tale. You are not a bit like an 
 ordinary girl. There is no buoyancy and fresh- 
 ness in you. Yet — I'll tell you what — I'll do 
 something splendid to show you my gratitude, 
 and wipe off my indebtedness. I'll learn you 
 to dance. 
 
 6 What ! ' exclaimed the girl, starting. 
 
 ' I have a bad debt with a dancing-master,' 
 said the Jew ; ' and the only way in which I 
 can recover my money is to take it out in les- 
 sons. You want refinement and deportment, 
 and I will do what is magnanimous, and have 
 you instructed by Mr. Deuxtemps in what be- 
 comes a lady. You shall learn to polk and jig 
 and curtsey like a blue-blooded born mar- 
 chioness.' 
 
 ' That's grand,' said Joanna.
 
 WHO WAS RACHEL ? 185 
 
 8 1 thought I should please you,' said the 
 Jew ; ' I'm not a master to be served without 
 reward. Now I w T ill do something more for 
 you. I will show you the jewels I have, and 
 perhaps let you put some on. I have diamonds, 
 carbuncles, and sapphires fit to make a cat 
 scream. Put out the fire, give me the candle, 
 and follow me to my room.' 
 
 He led the way into his private chamber, 
 where was his bed, and where he kept his most 
 precious articles, his money, and his account- 
 books. He set the candle on the table, and 
 unlocked one of the sedan chairs. At the bot- 
 tom was an iron chest. He opened it and took 
 out some jewel cases. 'No, my daughter,' he 
 said, ' you cannot appreciate the darlings by 
 this light. See this necklace, Joanna, it is made 
 of pearls, and this brooch is of diamonds, so is 
 the circlet for the hair. Get along with you ; 
 light another candle, curse the expense ! and 
 put the rose silk dress on you. Do up your hair 
 as if for a ball, and I will try the jewels on you. 
 I allow you a quarter of an hour for rigging 
 yourself out. Take whatever you require, but 
 mind and replace all when you have done ; also? 
 don't remove the tickets.' 
 
 In about twenty minutes Joanna returned.
 
 186 COUET ROYAL 
 
 When she entered she found a brass chandelier 
 huno- from the ceiling full of candles and alight, 
 filling the room with unwonted splendour. The 
 Jew sat on his bed rubbing his hands, and when 
 she came in he laughed aloud and clapped his 
 palms on his knees, and kicked his heels against 
 the board at his bedside. 
 
 Joanna looked taller in her dress of rose 
 silk. Her neck, bosom, and arms were bare. 
 She had edged the breast and sleeves with rich 
 old lace. Her raven hair was brushed back 
 and rolled over her head, exposing her ears. 
 Thinking her boots too heavy, she had thrown 
 them off, and came in her stocking soles, but as 
 the gown was long her lack of shoes was unper- 
 ceived. She entered the room of Lazarus 
 without a blush or a smile, perfectly composed 
 in manner, and stood before him under the 
 chandelier. 
 
 ' Give me the diamonds,' she said. 
 
 ' No,' he answered, ' you shall have the 
 pearls. An unmarried woman does not wear 
 diamonds. I have a chain of Eoman pearls for 
 your hair, and another for your pretty throat.' 
 
 Lazarus looked at her with amazed admira- 
 tion. She was extraordinarily beautiful ; her 
 neck long and graceful, her hair rich and lust-
 
 WHO WAS RACHEL? 187 
 
 rous, her features finely cut, and her magnificent 
 
 eyes full of intelligence. The grub had deve- 
 loped into a gorgeous butterfly. 
 
 The Jew contemplated her in silence for some 
 minutes, and then he screamed with laughter. 
 
 ' Joanna ! your hands, your hands ! ' 
 
 She put her hands behind her, and coloured. 
 i I could find no gloves,' she said, looking down. 
 
 c A pair of dirty hands is a badge of honour,' 
 said the pawnbroker. ' Don't be ashamed of 
 them.' 
 
 ' They are not dirty,' answered the girl, sul- 
 lenly, ' but grimy from work. I have washed 
 and washed, but the black grain will not out.' 
 
 'Work, work, work ! ' said the Jew ; ' now 
 dance.' 
 
 6 1 cannot. I do not know how,' answered 
 Joanna. ' Give me the jewels.' 
 
 He offered her the cases, and she put the 
 pearls about her throat, then w r ove a chain in 
 and out among her black hair. 
 
 ' You are very beautiful,' said the Jew. ' If 
 j T our hands were gloved you would do famously.' 
 
 6 For what ? ' asked Joanna. 
 
 ' For showing off dresses and jewels. When 
 the ladies saw T you they'd buy, thinking every- 
 thing was sure to become them as they suit you.'
 
 188 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Then Joanna said quietly and determinedly, 
 ' Who was Each el ? ' 
 
 'Kachel, my dear! Bless me, for the mo- 
 ment I had forgotten her. I doubt if even 
 she was as splendid a beauty as yourself, and 
 you are handsome enough. She hadn't your 
 pertinacity. How you do fasten on one, 
 and stick till you have extracted what you 
 require ! ' 
 
 ' I want to know who Each el was.' 
 
 ' There, sit down in the sedan, and I will 
 tell you.' 
 
 ' I prefer to stand.' 
 
 ' Then stand, if you will. It costs less ; you 
 are not wearing out the leather of the seat. 
 Besides, I like to look at you. I could sell that 
 rose silk for half as much again if I could show 
 you in it to a purchaser. Well, I'm sorry I said 
 a word about Kachel. Her name slipped off 
 my tongue, when my mouth was ajar. Kachel, 
 my dear — Kachel was my wife.' 
 
 ' Your wife ! — is she dead ? ' 
 
 'No, Joanna, I believe not.' 
 
 ' Where is she ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 ' Did she leave you ? ' 
 
 ' She was young, only seventeen, when I 
 married her — one of my own faith and race,
 
 WHO WAS RACHEL ? 189 
 
 and beautiful — superbly beautiful. She did not 
 fancy the business. She did not take to the 
 house. Her taste lay in stage plays and dances, 
 and gallivanting. We couldn't agree, and after 
 we had been married about a year she took 
 herself off. How ever she could have the heart 
 to leave all this furniture, and the carpets, and 
 the second-hand plate, and the red coats, and a 
 sweet Florentine marqueterie cabinet I then had, 
 and afterwards sold for twenty-seven guineas, is 
 amazing.' 
 
 ' Whither did she go ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 6 And you do not know where she is now ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 ' Has she ever shown a desire to return 
 home ? ' 
 
 ' Never, never ! ' 
 
 8 Would you receive her if she did return ? ' 
 
 'I would not.' 
 
 < Why not ? ' 
 
 The Jew was silent. Joanna looked hard 
 at him and asked, ' Did she go alone ? ' 
 
 He sprang from the bed, and paced the 
 room. His face was changed, and Joanna, who 
 watched him, w r as startled and drew back ; the 
 expression of his features w r as so threatening and 
 repulsive.
 
 190 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' I have told you enough,' he said hoarsely. 
 ' I will tell you no more.' 
 
 He continued to pace the room. His face 
 was livid, his eyes glared, his thick coarse lips 
 were tightly drawn, and his fleshy cheeks were 
 lined and shrunk. 
 
 Presently he turned his head towards her, 
 but he seemed scarcely to observe her. ' Let 
 me have him firm here, in the hollow of my 
 hand,' he said in hard tones vibrating with 
 passion, ' and I will squeeze and squeeze till 
 the life is squeezed out of him. Let me grasp 
 him, and I will tear him down, him and all his 
 family. I will not spare him, and then I will 
 caper over him, and you shall dance with 
 me up and down and in and out over their 
 broken bones and crushed flesh, and beat out 
 their brains with our feet, and stamp their mar- 
 row into the mire.' Then the door -bell rang. 
 
 Lazarus stood still, looking about him con- 
 tusedly. He put his hand to his brow, to help 
 his brain to recover its thoughts. Again the 
 bell rang. Joanna moved to the door to 
 answer the summons. 
 
 ' No, no,' said the Jew, i not in silk attire, 
 not bedecked with pearls. I will go and see 
 who rings.'
 
 191 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK. 
 
 Joaxka remained standing under the lustre, 
 awaiting her master's return. She heard him 
 in the passage speaking with some one, and 
 then his feet sounded, shuffling in his slippers 
 towards the door, followed by a firmer footfall. 
 Then the door was thrown open, and he 
 stood back, and bowed, to admit Mr. Charles 
 Cheek. 
 
 1 Good heavens ! ' exclaimed the young man, 
 1 a lady here ! ' 
 
 ' Look at her ! Look at her well ! ' ex- 
 claimed Lazarus, crowing and rubbing his 
 hands. ■ I'll bet you a foreign coin that you 
 don't recognise my Joanna.' 
 
 Charles Cheek looked at the tall, beautiful 
 girl with astonishment, and then broke into a 
 merry laugh. 
 
 1 Excuse me,' he said, l but I cannot help
 
 192 COURT ROYAL 
 
 myself. One night we meet on the roof of the 
 house, I in evening dress and you in working 
 clothes ; and to-night we meet again, under the 
 roof, I in my morning dress and paletot, and 
 you dressed for a ball, and certain to be its 
 belle. Whither are you going, Miss Joanna, for 
 positively I must go there also, and secure you 
 for half a dozen dances ? ' 
 
 ' 1 am going nowhere,' answered the girl 
 coldly ; ' I cannot dance. I am merely dressed, 
 like the block in the milliner's, for the display 
 of the goods.' 
 
 ' Joanna is going to learn to dance,' said the 
 Jew. ' I intend indulging her in that expen- 
 sive luxury. She behaved herself, on the whole, 
 well last night, and I must show her my satis- 
 faction. I am a free-handed, liberal-hearted 
 man, as all who have dealings with me can 
 testify.' 
 
 ' Going to learn to dance, are you ? ' asked 
 Charles Cheek, looking at the girl with amused 
 curiosity. ' What next — French and the piano- 
 forte?' 
 
 Joanna was nettled, and flashed an angry 
 glance at him. 
 
 ' Now don't she look well ? ' asked Lazarus. 
 'Who'd think, seeing her now, that she was
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK 193 
 
 drawn out of Laira mud, like a drowned rat, 
 and pawned for ten shillings ? ' 
 
 The girl coloured and her brow darkened. 
 
 ' Never mind whence she came. I was dis- 
 covered in a box of preserved figs. She looks 
 as if the rose silk and the pearls belonged to 
 her, and she was born to wear them. Why, if 
 Joanna were to appear at the hunt or the sub- 
 scription ball, the gentlemen would swarm round 
 her, and the ladies die of envy.' 
 
 8 She shall go,' laughed the Jew. ' I will 
 send her there.' 
 
 Charles Cheek shook his head and laughed. 
 
 ' Why do you shake your head ? ' asked 
 Joanna, looking hard at him. 
 
 ' It wouldn't do,' he answered. 
 
 ' Why not ? ' she asked. 
 
 6 There are reasons that make it impossible.' 
 
 • What reasons ? ' 
 
 ' There are none,' broke in the Jew. ' If I 
 choose to send her to the subscription ball, who 
 is to say me nay ? ' 
 
 ' You could not send her alone. A lady 
 must chaperon her,' explained the young man 
 hesitatingly. He did not wish to hurt Joanna's 
 feelings by entering into particulars. 
 
 ' Why not ? ' shouted Lazarus. ' If I will 
 vol. i. o
 
 194 COURT ROYAL 
 
 that she go, I can find plenty of ladies to take 
 her, who must take her because I desire it. 
 Ladies of good position will do me a favour if 
 I ask it, They dare not refuse.' 
 
 i I do not dispute your power, Father 
 Lazarus ; I say the thing is impossible, because 
 Joanna has too much common sense to venture 
 where she does not know her ground.' 
 
 Joanna fired to her temples and said nothing 
 more. 
 
 The Jew was more obtuse ; he said, 'What ! 
 don't she look every inch a lady? It is the dress 
 — the dress that makes the lady.' 
 
 'Put that rose silk on one of the rowdy 
 women or girls quarrelling or rollicking in the 
 street now, and she will look a bedizened mon- 
 key, or something worse. No, Mr. Lazarus ; 
 it is not the dress that makes the lady, it is the 
 lady that makes the dress. When are you going 
 to learn dancing, Joanna ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 'Where?' 
 
 ' Here.' 
 
 ' Who are going to dance with you ? ' 
 
 ' No one.' 
 
 ' Then you will never learn. I will come 
 and be your partner. Lazarus ! sweep together
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK 195 
 
 some of your Mosaic girls, and I'll bring a friend 
 or two, and we will have the j oiliest dancing 
 lessons imaginable.' 
 
 The pawnbroker frowned. 'Mr. Cheek, I 
 am not going to turn this house into a casino. 
 I promised Joanna she should learn to dance, 
 and I stick to my word. I can't get my money 
 out of the dancing-master, so I may as well get 
 its worth. That is better than nothing.' 
 
 ' May I come and help ? I am an accom- 
 plished dancer.' 
 
 * That is as you choose,' answered the Jew ; 
 ' only I won't have any of your fast friends here. 
 If you will come in a quiet way, come ; only, 
 don't expect to find Joanna dressed up like to- 
 night.' 
 
 ' Of course she must be in proper attire. 
 No one can dance in working clothes.' 
 
 ' She has no other.' 
 
 < What I— not Sunday clothes ?' 
 
 ' Sunday is nothing to us.' 
 
 ' What ! no go-to-meeting clothes ? ' 
 
 ' She never goes to meeting.' 
 
 ' Nor to church ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 4 Nor synagogue, nor chapel ? ' 
 
 'No.' * 
 
 o2
 
 196 COURT ROVAL 
 
 ' Good heavens ! ' exclaimed Charles Cheek, 
 ' what is Sunday instituted for ? What are 
 churches and chapels built for, but the display 
 of smart clothes? Lazarus, what a heathen of 
 a Jew you are, not to allow the girl a day on 
 which to shake off her rags and put on fine 
 feathers ! Lazarus, we have a little account 
 together ; put down the rose silk to it, and let 
 me present it and that necklet of Soman pearls 
 to Miss Joanna. Will you accept the present, 
 my lady Joan, and wear them at our dance 
 rehearsals ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know,' answered the girl, looking 
 down. 
 
 4 Of course she will,' said the Jew, nudging 
 Joanna. 
 
 ' I said, I did not know.' The girl spoke 
 firmly. * I will tell you some other time.' 
 
 ' Will you stop and have a bite of supper ? ' 
 asked the Jew. ' The festive board is spread. 
 The tin of tomatoes is on the table, so is the 
 bread. True, we have had our light refection, 
 but we will share the remains with you. Water, 
 sparkling and pure off Dartmoor, brought all 
 the way by the great Sir Francis Drake in a 
 conduit. Who'd have thought the great navi- 
 gator such a fine engineer ! '
 
 CHAKLIE CHEEK 197 
 
 c Lazarus,' exclaimed the young man, ' I 
 know you can play a fiddle ; you tried once to 
 sell rne a violin for twice its worth, and played 
 me something on it. Get down an instrument 
 at once, and let me put Joanna into the way of 
 waltzing. She has it in her ; a hint, and away 
 she goes. I bet you a sovereign, in a quarter 
 of an hour she will be able to step in a waltz 
 as well as an experienced dancer of seven 
 seasons. Look here, Mr. Lazarus, you whis- 
 pered the word " supper." I don't like your sug- 
 gestion of cold tomatoes and cooling draughts. 
 What do you say to pigeon or beefsteak pie and 
 a bottle of champagne ? ' 
 
 The Jew's eyes twinkled. ' Very well,' said 
 he, c so let it be. I'll run down the street and 
 get what you desire — I cannot send Joanna in 
 her present costume — and be back in three 
 seconds. Then I'll give you a scrape on my 
 fiddle — Strauss or Waldteufel — and do what 
 you can with Joanna. I know her. She don't 
 want twice telling to learn a thing, not she. Of 
 course you pay for the pie and the champagne. 
 I am not responsible.' 
 
 ' Certainly. Tell me what I have to pay, 
 and I will refund the outlay.' 
 
 1 Would you mind advancing half a sove-
 
 198 COURT ROYAL 
 
 reign ? ' said Lazarus. ' I have only three half- 
 pence in my purse.' 
 
 Mr. Cheek tossed him the money. Lazarus 
 caught it as sharply as a dog snaps at a bit of 
 meat. When Lazarus had disappeared, Joanna 
 looked steadily at the young man, and asked, 
 ' Why is it impossible for me to go to a 
 ball?' 
 
 ' I did not say that you could not go to a 
 ball.' 
 
 1 No, you implied that I had too much sense 
 to appear in the society of gentlemen and ladies.' 
 
 Charles Cheek slightly coloured, stammered, 
 and said, ' Well, I did mean that.' 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 ' You ask me ? Do you not yourself under- 
 stand?' 
 
 ' No.' 
 
 He thought for a moment, and then he said, 
 ' My girl, you would not think of going to a 
 grand ball, as I saw you last night, astride on 
 a gable, a pail in one hand and a mop in the 
 other, clothes and hair streaming with water, 
 and a black smirch of soot across your fore- 
 head—with, moreover, a smock in holes, and 
 one slipper on, the other off.' 
 
 ' No, I would not.'
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK 199 
 
 6 Very well. You would appear as you are 
 now?' 
 
 < Yes.' 
 
 4 But more dress than this is expected. 
 Your mind must be in rose silk and pearls. 
 Your tongue must be in full dress ; your manner 
 must be the same. Let me tell you that, among 
 ladies, their tongues and their minds are never 
 with one slipper off, the other on, never with 
 sooty smears across them, but always wreathed 
 with pearls and rustling in rose silk. They 
 have never known anything else. Do you 
 understand me ? ' 
 
 Joanna put her ringer to her lips and con- 
 sidered. As she thought, she put forward one 
 of her feet ; Charles Cheek noticed it at once. 
 ' Joanna,' he said, ' you are dressed like a 
 princess, but you betray yourself by your stock- 
 ing. You are not only shoeless, but you have 
 a hole in your sock.' 
 
 The girl started, and drew back her foot. 
 
 6 I do not want to hurt you,' he said good- 
 naturedly ; ' I use this only as an illustration of 
 what I mean. If you were in the society of 
 gentlemen and ladies, you would betray your- 
 self by your stocking holes.' 
 
 ' 1 would not wear ' She stopped.
 
 200 COURT ROYAL 
 
 8 No. I do not mean stockings. I mean the 
 gaps and shortcomings in speech and culture.' 
 
 She looked intently at him for a minute. 
 
 8 1 have never seen real ladies and gentle- 
 men — never, that is, except on business. Are 
 you a real, proper gentleman ? ' 
 
 Charles laughed. ; That is a cruel question, 
 Joanna ; I cannot answer it. You must inquire 
 of others.' 
 
 Joanna considered again. Presently she 
 said, ' Here I see nothing but raggedness, 
 wretchedness, and care. I know nothing of a 
 richly clothed, happy, and careless world. Here 
 I am surrounded by poverty, and the air is 
 charged with the dust of old clothes and the 
 reek of Laira mud ; the light that comes 
 through these windows is never clean ; the air 
 is always stale. Why should not I sometimes 
 spring up into the region of light and liveliness ? 
 Lazarus often tells me I am a maggot, but a 
 maggot becomes a moth with wings of silver. 
 Am I to be always a grub — never to rise ? If 
 Lazarus offers me the chance to have a short 
 flutter, may I not accept it ? ' 
 
 8 You are a queer girl,' answered the young 
 man. ' Take care not to leave your proper 
 element. Have you ever heard of the flying
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK 201 
 
 fish ? The fish have fins so long that they can 
 rise on them a little way out of the waves, and 
 the silly creatures think they are birds ; so they 
 spring above the water, and are immediately 
 snapped up by gulls.' 
 
 Joanna laughed. ' I am not afraid of that ; 
 I am more likely to snap the gulls than the 
 gulls snap me.' 
 
 ' You are a comical girl,' said Charles. ' It 
 is a pleasure to hear you talk. Are you happy 
 in this den ? ' 
 
 ' How can I be ? Lock about at the den. 
 I will show you where I sleep, on a sack full of 
 shavings under the counter. My food consists 
 of crumbs of bread, rinds of cheese, and apple 
 parings, which Lazarus cannot eat. My play- 
 ground is a backyard in which the only green 
 thing is the slime on the pavement. Lazarus 
 has no Sundays and I no Sabbaths, so I never 
 have a holiday.' 
 
 ' Then why do you not leave P ' 
 
 ' Because I cannot. I am pawned.' 
 
 ' Pawned ! ' 
 
 ' Pawned by my mother. I cannot leave. 
 She expects me to remain till she redeems me. 
 There is no help for it. I must abide where I 
 am till she returns.'
 
 202 COUET ROYAL 
 
 ' Where is your mother ? ' 
 
 4 1 do not know.' 
 
 6 Good heavens ! and you are enslaved all 
 this while, without power of obtaining your 
 freedom ! — Till when ? ' 
 
 ' Till I am nineteen years old — that is, seven 
 years since my mother pawned me. If she 
 does not bring the ticket and release me before 
 then ' She did not finish the sentence. 
 
 'Well then ?' 
 
 ' I will kill myself.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, Joanna. You are a little goose. 
 I can't follow your scruples. I see no right and 
 wrong in the matter — no such obligations as you 
 fancy.' 
 
 ' I do not suppose you can. You belong to 
 the gentry.' 
 
 < Well ! ' Charles Cheek laughed. < Have 
 gentlefolks no consciences ? ' 
 
 ' No, none at all,' she replied. 
 
 ' How do you know that ? ' 
 
 'Because I know them through Lazarus' 
 books and the society papers.' 
 
 ' And you have no other sources of informa- 
 tion?' 
 
 'I want no other. Lazarus deals with 
 gentlefolks of all kinds, and through his ac-
 
 CHAELIE CHEEK 203 
 
 count books and what he tells me I know about 
 most of the officers and officers' wives and 
 gentlefolks of every sort here, and the society 
 papers tell us what the rest are like in London.' 
 
 * Every picture has two sides, Joanna. You 
 see only the back.' 
 
 ' Has society another side ? ' 
 
 6 Of course it has.' 
 
 ' I cannot believe it. The world of men is 
 cut into two halves — the rich and happy and 
 vicious, and the poor and miserable and deserv- 
 ing. I will not say that the poor are good — I 
 see too much of them to assert that, but they 
 deserve what is better than they have. They 
 cannot be good because they are wretched. No 
 one can be good under a hundred and fifty per 
 annum.' 
 
 Mr. Cheek laughed. ' Or with an income 
 above that limit.' 
 
 ' Below that sum come gnawing care, and 
 grasping for coin, and biting and eating one 
 another. Above that sum, idleness and waste 
 and luxury.' 
 
 6 And so, you comical socialist, you take as 
 gospel all you read in the society papers, and be- 
 lieve in the utter corruption of the aristocracy ? ' 
 
 ' It is in print. What I read is read by
 
 204 COURT ROYAL 
 
 tens of thousands. The old woman who sells 
 shrimps and ginger-beer, the barge-man in the 
 coal-boat, the men in Eddystone, the board- 
 school children, all read the society papers, and 
 gather from them convictions that the upper 
 ranks of life are corrupt to the core, and burn 
 with desire to tear them down in the interests 
 of morality, and cast them in the gutter. Why 
 should we lie on sacks of shavings and eat 
 cheese rinds, and never leave the Barbican and 
 escape the smell of Sutton Pool, and they bed 
 in down and fare sumptuously, and go to opera 
 and ball in the season and to their parks or to 
 the sea out of season ? I would I had the re- 
 making of the world. I would cut the rich 
 down to a hundred and fifty, and pull up the 
 poor to the same figure. Then we should have 
 an equalisation of happiness. Hark ! here 
 comes Lazarus ; I hear his key.'* 
 
 ' Joanna, it is rare fun to hear you talk ! 
 Tell me, will you accept my present of the dress 
 and chain ? ' 
 
 ' I will,' she answered. c I would not at 
 first, because I doubted whether you laughed 
 at me or pitied me.' 
 
 ' I certainly pity you/ 
 
 4 Then I take your present, and thank you.'
 
 CHARLIE CHEEK 205 
 
 The Jew entered, a basket on one arm, a 
 bottle under the other. He was elated and 
 chuckling. 
 
 4 1 have been absent some time,' he said ; 
 ' I found the wine merchants closed, and I 
 would not have bad gooseberry at the tavern. 
 Here is the pie ' — he opened the basket — ' and. 
 a dozen raspberry tartlets, and a pound of 
 clotted cream. I understood you to say tartlets, 
 Mr. Cheek.' 
 
 6 As you will.' 
 
 1 1 am positive you desired me to buy them ; 
 I particularly remember that you specified 
 raspberry. Also cream at one-and-four. The 
 pot I can return, so it will not be charged. I 
 had to carry the cream very tenderly, so as not 
 to spill a drop. Then,' he added, c I have added 
 my own contributions to the feast, one apiece. 
 " Blow the expense ! " said I, " oranges are 
 now at a price within the reach of the poor — - 
 twenty-one for a shilling." ' 
 
 £ You will produce your violin ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly. I hope Joanna has entertained 
 you whilst I have been away.' 
 
 1 Famously. She is a comical girl, and I 
 enjoy a talk with her — the first of many, I 
 trust.'
 
 206 COURT ROYAL 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 THE EMS WATER. 
 
 Joanna was unable to sleep that night, The 
 champagne had excited her brain, and she lay 
 watchful under the counter in the shop, tossing 
 on the sack of shavings. The night was cold, 
 so she had thrown a military greatcoat over 
 her, and a black rug across her feet. She mused 
 on what had taken place — the wonder in the 
 eyes of the young man when he saw her in the 
 silk attire, the interest she had awakened in 
 him by her conversation and her good looks. 
 She had a cool head, and was able to weigh 
 the value of his admiration. She had measured 
 the man. She knew him to be amiable, with 
 fair abilities, but shallow. He was good-natured 
 and weak. He had promised to return, but she 
 placed no reliance on his promises. If he had 
 nothing better to amuse him, he would come, 
 not otherwise. But though she was aware that
 
 THE EMS WATER 207 
 
 his liking for her was not deep, easy to be 
 effaced, she was pleased with having aroused a 
 transient fancy. A light had flashed into her 
 dull life. She was unaccustomed to amusement 
 of any sort. She had not associated with the 
 children of the Barbican, nor shared in their 
 games. Her master's unpopularity had affected 
 her ; the exigencies of his service had cut her 
 off from social pleasures. 
 
 She had spoken to Mr. Cheek with force 
 and freedom on the distinction between the 
 lots of rich and poor. She had spoken more 
 strongly than she felt. Her ideas formulated 
 on her tongue as she spoke. She had no 
 sympathy with the poor ; they were the proper 
 prey of a usurer. That they brought wretched- 
 ness on themselves by their own recklessness, 
 improvidence, and idleness, she knew very 
 well. She took advantage of their necessities 
 without compunction. But she felt keenly her 
 own condition and her powerlessness to escape 
 from it. The enigmas of life, that lie unperceived 
 in savagedom, rise into prominence with civilisa- 
 tion, and as culture advances become more 
 perplexing and insoluble. 
 
 Joanna sat up under the counter. Lazarus 
 was asleep. She could hear his snoring. He
 
 208 COURT ROYAL 
 
 was a noisy sleeper, and though his door was 
 shut and locked, his nasal trmnpetings were 
 audible in the shop, and annoyed the girl. 
 On the counter above her was a tin case con- 
 taining a ball of twine ; the end of the twine 
 hung down over the edge, and as she tossed on 
 her sack touched and tickled her face. She 
 laid hold of the end of string and threw it up, 
 but it fell back on her face. Then she began 
 to pull at it, and unwind the ball, and rewind 
 it on her fingers. The ball seemed interminable. 
 She was engaged on it half an hour, running the 
 twine out and rolling it again. She did it for a 
 distraction, and as she did it the thought came 
 on her that it was thus with her life ; she was 
 drawing out yard after yard of existence, all 
 alike, with a knot here and there, all much the 
 same, and then, suddenly — there was an end. 
 It mattered nothing when the end came, the 
 entire string was so utterly uninteresting. 
 
 As sleep would not come to her, she shook 
 off the rug and crawled from her bed. The 
 night was cold, and she was partially undressed. 
 Therefore she drew on the military greatcoat. 
 Thus attired, in her stocking soles, she stole out 
 of the shop to the stairs. She had a favourite 
 retreat on the" roof, where she could be quiet
 
 THE EMS WATER 209 
 
 and think. There she had a few pots of 
 flowers and a little stool. Perhaps the night air 
 would bring drowsiness to her lids. A problem 
 was perplexing her restless mind ; she could 
 not sleep with that unsolved. The problem 
 was this : Why were artisans and domestic 
 servants dissatisfied, and why were shopkeepers 
 content with their lot? All were workers 
 alike. Lazarus worked harder than most day 
 labourers ; the man at the ham and pork shop 
 worked like a slave, so did the greengrocer, 
 so did the paperh anger next door but one. 
 These were cheery folk, and did not grumble 
 at their condition. It was otherwise with the 
 journeyman plumber, and carpenter, and the 
 factory hand, and the maid-of-all work. These 
 were impatient of their position and hated 
 their labour. 
 
 Joanna traversed the storerooms. The gas- 
 lamp in the street threw in sufficient light for 
 her to see the furniture, and to thread her way 
 without touching and upsetting anything. [Had 
 the lamp indeed been extinguished she would 
 have found her way noiselessly about those 
 rooms, and brought from them whatever was 
 required. She went to the window, and looked 
 across the way at the ruin of the house that 
 
 vol. I. p
 
 210 COURT ROYAL 
 
 had been consumed the night before. Every 
 pane of glass was broken ; the entire roof had 
 fallen in. Then Joanna went into the room 
 from which the carpets had been removed to 
 protect the roof, and which still covered it. 
 Here alone was an empty space. Joanna cast 
 off the thick coat, and sprang lightly into the 
 middle, stood on tiptoe and threw about her 
 arms and twirled as she had seen in pictures of 
 ballet-dancers. Then she hummed to herself 
 a waltz of Strauss, and began to dance, with 
 fantastic gesture, the step she had acquired 
 that evening from Charles Cheek. 
 
 Presently, fearing lest her tread should 
 disturb the Jew, she reinvested herself in the 
 long grey overcoat, and ascended the ladder to 
 the roof. 
 
 The cold air made her shiver, but it was 
 fresh after the close, dust-laden atmosphere of 
 the house. The stars were burning brightly 
 overhead. 
 
 She looked at her plants ; several of the 
 pots were knocked down. One was broken, 
 and the earth had fallen from the roots. She 
 had the ball of twine in the pocket of the coat, 
 and she took from it sufficient to bind together 
 the broken sherds. She cut the string with her
 
 THE EMS WATER 211 
 
 teeth. ; then she put in the earth again. The 
 geranium in the spoutless teapot must come in, 
 and sleep for the winter. The fuchsia must 
 have fresh earth about the roots ; the Guernsey 
 lily needed to be divided. All this would have 
 to be done by daylight on the morrow. Then 
 she took up a pot in which was heather, a little 
 heather in peat she had taken up wild and 
 carried home on one rare occasion when she 
 had been in the country for a holiday, on 
 Eoborough Down. She loved the heather 
 above every flower she had, yet it was sickly in 
 confinement. Perhaps it was cold up there on 
 the slates. So she took the pot in her arms, 
 seated herself, hugging it, with the greatcoat 
 wrapped round her and the heather, and began 
 to think. She could not see into the streets 
 from where she sat, as the parapet cut them off, 
 but she saw the yellow haze that hung over 
 Plymouth, the reflection of the lights in the fine 
 vapour that overarched it. The taverns were 
 shut ; no drunken men were about the Barbican. 
 The outline of the citadel stood dark above the 
 harbour. She could see the lighthouse at the 
 pier-head, and far out, reflected in the quivering 
 water, the spark of Mount Batten light. Joanna 
 thought first of her flowers, and then, last of all, 
 
 p 2
 
 212 COURT ROYAL 
 
 of the problem she had climbed to the roof to 
 solve : Why did the labouring class hate work, 
 and the trading class love it greedily? The 
 girls from the country streamed into Plymouth, 
 because they had been taught to read and write 
 
 to read novels and write, love-letters — and 
 
 therefore counted themselves superior to feeding 
 pigs and making butter. They went into 
 service, and when they found that there they 
 were expected to dust chairs and wash up 
 breakfast things they went on the streets. 
 That was an everyday story. They fled work 
 because work was hateful. The young men 
 poured into town from the country to escape 
 the plough and the spade, and when they found 
 that they were expected to work at a trade, 
 they earned their bread with resentment at 
 their hearts, because prava necessitas insisted on 
 labour ; and they blasphemed God and dreamed 
 of upsetting the social order because forced to 
 work. Why was this? The moment, however, 
 that the parlour-maid became a married woman 
 and had a home to care for, she toiled without 
 grudging time or labour. The moment the 
 artisan opened a shop and worked for himself, 
 he was reconciled with Providence and the 
 social system. Why was this ? Unconsciously,
 
 THE EMS WATER 213 
 
 Joanna had struck the solution. Content came 
 when man and woman worked for self. 
 Discontent was consequent on working for 
 others. ' This is it,' she exclaimed ; 'to be 
 happy and good one must care only for self, 
 and not a brass farthing for anyone besides.' 
 That was Joanna's philosophy of life, ham- 
 mered out of her experience and observation. 
 
 Having arrived at this conclusion she stood 
 up. 'I am cold,' she said, 'so is the pot of 
 heath. We must go in.' Then she stole 
 downstairs. 
 
 Joanna descended very softly, lest she should 
 rouse Lazarus. She listened on the stair for 
 his snore. If that were inaudible, it would be- 
 hove her to walk warily. He might be lurking 
 in a corner or behind a door, ready to leap 
 forth with his stick and batter her. No — she 
 did not hear it. She put foot after foot before 
 her most cautiously, listening and peering about 
 her in the dark. Then — she heard a sound, an 
 unusual sound, which made her heart stand 
 still ; she stood with poised foot and uplifted 
 hand to her ear. 
 
 The sound came from the back kitchen, 
 and simultaneously she heard the choking snort 
 of Mr. Lazarus in his bedroom.
 
 214 COURT ROYAL 
 
 She crept so noiselessly down the last steps 
 that she would not have scared a mouse, and 
 craned her neck to see who or what was in the 
 back kitchen. In that back kitchen was alow, 
 square window over the sink. Her eyes were 
 sufficiently accustomed to the dark for her to 
 see that the window was obscured by a dark 
 body. She made out that the sash had been 
 thrown up, and that a man was crawling in at 
 the narrow opening. She saw also, by a feeble 
 glimmer, that a second man stood in the outer 
 kitchen, holding a dark lantern, waiting for his 
 fellow to enter as he had come in. 
 
 Joanna did not scream. Her lungs were 
 more powerful than when, as a child, her 
 mother had commended her powers of scream- 
 ing. She knew that if she set up an alarm the 
 first impulse of the burglar would be to stop 
 her voice, and that he would have no scruples 
 as to the manner in which he attained his object. 
 Joanna had matches within reach, but she did 
 not strike a light. She was too wise to expose 
 herself to observation. She preferred observing 
 unseen. She considered what she had better 
 do, and, having rapidly determined, proceeded 
 to take her course with celerity, circumspection, 
 and silence. She stepped, unobserved, from
 
 THE EM3 WATER 215 
 
 the stair into the passage leading to the chamber 
 of her master and to the shop. She was sure 
 that the burglars would not ascend to the store- 
 rooms, to burden themselves with sets of 
 bedroom crockery or chests of drawers. They 
 would look for what was most valuable in the 
 smallest portable form, money and jewels and 
 plate ; and all these were in the bedroom of 
 Lazarus. This was the point of attack that 
 must be defended. 
 
 Now the thought crossed the mind of Joanna 
 that she might slip into the shop, close the door 
 between and open the shop door, run into the 
 street and give the alarm ; but her blood was 
 up. She was a brave girl, she was also a girl 
 quickly roused to anger, and she was now, not 
 afraid, but furious. If men had dared to break 
 into her master's house, she w T as determined 
 they should not leave it without a lasting lesson 
 not to do so again, at least while she was there 
 to protect it. 
 
 Joanna was unprovided with firearms. 
 Lazarus had a revolver in his room, always 
 loaded ; but he took time to rouse, being a 
 heavy sleeper. Against the wall ranged in the 
 passage were the bottles of Ems water. Above, 
 on nails, hung a large locked saw. She took it
 
 216 COURT BO PAL 
 
 do wd, and removed the wooden cover to the 
 teeth. Then she crouched on the ground, 
 waiting, watching, like a terrier at a rat- 
 hole. Her eyes were on the back kitchen 
 door. 
 
 Presently she saw the faint light of the 
 closed lantern in the front kitchen, and heard 
 the fall of bare feet on the floor. She raised 
 her arm with deliberation, with eyes riveted on 
 her object, and flung a bottle of Ems water, not 
 under hand, as a girl casts, but as a boy hurls. 
 A gasp, a crash, and a smothered cry ! The 
 lantern fell on the kitchen floor. At once 
 Joanna glided forward, secured the lantern, and 
 retired whence she had crept, and covered the 
 light with her coat. The kitchen was dark as 
 pitch. She heard a spluttering and grumbling, 
 then a whispered query from the second burglar 
 — what was the matter ? where was the light ? 
 Suddenly she sent a ray across- the space ; it fell 
 on a face with staring eyes, a coarse ragged 
 beard, and a great cut across the brow from 
 which blood was running. That was all. With 
 a click the lantern was closed, the light cut off, 
 and with level directness another bottle struck 
 the same mark. 
 
 Then came a scuffle, a cry, and curses. She
 
 THE EMS WATER 217 
 
 listened, holding the light under the flap of her 
 greatcoat, and did not stir till she was sure that 
 the burglars, hurt, frightened, bewildered, were 
 scrambling back through the outer kitchen, one 
 falling over or clinging to the other. Then, 
 once again, she sent a beam of light upon them. 
 She let it travel from one to the other. She 
 marked both faces. One man had his hand to 
 his head, and hand and face were smeared with 
 blood. Again she flung a bottle, and the man 
 went down. Then she retired to the shop and 
 put on her shoes. She drew on her shoes 
 because the floor of the kitchen was strewn with 
 broken bottles, and she did not choose to cut 
 her feet. Then she took the saw r and pursued 
 the burglars. One was already through the 
 window over the sink, the other was making his 
 way through. With that generosity which is 
 found even among criminals, the uninjured 
 burglar had helped his wounded companion 
 through before he attempted escape himself. 
 Joanna attacked this man with the saw. 
 
 Hitherto the only sounds to which they had 
 given vent were muffled cries and groans. Xow 
 this second burglar uttered screams terrible to 
 hear. 
 
 Presently Lazarus appeared in his night-
 
 218 COURT ROYAL 
 
 gown, holding a candle, white with fear, with a 
 pistol in his trembling hand. 
 
 ' Put down the revolver,' called Joanna. 
 ' I've done the job without you.' 
 
 I What is the matter ? What is it ? Joanna ! 
 Lord ! Lord ! Whose are these horrible 
 shrieks ? ' 
 
 6 He is like to shriek,' said the girl, wiping 
 her brow with the left hand ; ' you'd shriek, I 
 reckon, if sawed at whilst crawling through a 
 little window.' 
 
 ' What are you doing? ' asked the bewildered, 
 frightened Jew. 
 
 ' Sawing, I tell you,' answered the girl. 
 ' Don't come forward ; you'll cut your feet on 
 the broken bottles. There ! we are clear of 
 them.' 
 
 'Clear of what?' 
 
 Joanna quietly shut the sash of the window 
 over the sink. 
 
 I I see how it was done,' she said ; ' they 
 removed a pane, and so got their hands in to 
 turn the hasp.' 
 
 'Who, child, who?' 
 
 ' Burglars, of course. Who else ? ' 
 
 ' Burglars in my house ? ' 
 
 ' They won't come again,' said the girl dryly.
 
 THE EMS WATER 219 
 
 1 Stay where you are, and let them get away 
 through the back-yard door. They came over 
 the wall, but neither of them is in a fit condition 
 for scrambling now.' 
 
 ' But, Joanna ! ' 
 
 ' When my mother pawned me,' said the 
 girl, ' she said I could scream enough to scare 
 away robbers. I'm older now. I make the 
 robbers scream.' 
 
 So Joanna was false to her philosophy ten 
 minutes after having formulated her view of 
 life.
 
 220 COURT ROYAL 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE MOXOKERATIC PRINCIPLE. 
 
 ' You are a capital girl,' said Lazarus, ' and I 
 will not forget what you have done. The Ems 
 water was no loss to cry over, as the demand 
 for it is slack. I am grateful, and to show you 
 my gratitude I will give sound advice.' 
 
 4 Advice ! ' echoed Joanna contemptuously. 
 e That costs nothing. Take mine, and get into 
 your clothes.' 
 
 4 To be sure I will,' said the Jew. ' Whilst 
 I am getting on my garments, do you, Joanna, 
 see that the back -yard is clear, and bolt and 
 bar the door. I'll provide that the sink win- 
 dow is fastened up to-morrow. Every down- 
 stair window but that has iron bars. That, I 
 suppose, was neglected because it looked into the 
 yard. How did they get the window open? ' 
 
 ' Go to your room and get on your clothes, 
 and I'll find out.'
 
 THE M0N0KE RATIO PRINCIPLE 221 
 
 4 To be sure. I am shivery, and might 
 catch cold, and be forced to send for a doctor. 
 Look here, Joanna ; after this affair there will 
 be no more sleep to-night for either of us, so I 
 will allow you to light the fire. We will sit 
 up and talk matters over till daybreak.' Then 
 he retired to his room, taking the candle with 
 him, and locking his door behind him. 
 
 Joanna took the lantern. She examined 
 the window that had been entered. The 
 burglars had affixed a diachylum heart-plaster 
 to a pane of glass, and cut the pane out. By 
 this means it had been removed noiselessly, and 
 was laid outside against the wall, unbroken. 
 She found the door in the yard open, as she 
 expected. The burglars had come in over the 
 wall, but had escaped by means of the door. 
 
 She made all the doors fast, and put a tray 
 before the paneless window to exclude the 
 cold. Then she lighted a cheerful fire in the 
 stove. By this time Lazarus was clothed and 
 came out of his room. 
 
 ' I think,' said he, c as there is a good fire, 
 we might get the Persian carpet down from 
 the roof and dry it. Always kill two birds 
 with one stone, if they will stand for it.'
 
 222 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Assisted by the Jew, the carpet was brought 
 down and hung on a horse in the kitchen. 
 
 Then Lazarus drew his chair to the fire and 
 warmed his palms at the blaze. 
 
 ' When I consider,' said he, ' the delibera- 
 tion and coolness with which you worked off 
 those burglars, all I can say is you ought to 
 have been a Jew.' 
 
 The girl made no reply. It was a matter 
 of indifference to her whether she were a Jew 
 or a Gentile. She collected the broken stone 
 bottle sherds from the floor and mopped up the 
 slop of mineral water. 
 
 ' I have been counting the Ems water,' said 
 Lazarus ; ' there are but six bottles left.' 
 
 ' You arc not going to make me drink the 
 remainder, are you,' asked Joanna, standing up, 
 ' to show that you are grateful because I saved 
 your house from being burnt and your throat 
 from being cut ? ' 
 
 ' No, I am not,' answered Lazarus. 
 
 ' Whatever you do won't cost you much,' 
 said Joanna. 
 
 ' Now, don't say that,' Lazarus remonstrated, 
 nettled with the truth of the observation ; ' I 
 am not bound to do anything for you.'
 
 THE MOXOKERATIC PRINCIPLE 223 
 
 6 Nor was I bound to save your roof from 
 flames and your throat from the knife.' 
 
 ' How coarsely you speak ! ' said Lazarus. 
 Then he was silent, looking into the fire and 
 then at Joanna, with something trembling on 
 his tongue, yet doubtful whether to utter it. 
 Probably he had resolved not to speak, for he 
 merely said to himself, c Ems ain't bad ; but its 
 day is over. Double dahlias one day, single 
 next. Such is the world. So the pendulum 
 swings.' 
 
 Joanna continued her work without a 
 reply. 
 
 'You are a good girl,' he added, looking 
 into the fire ; ' there is a splendid future in 
 store for you, only you don't know it. When 
 that does break on you you will cry out, " 
 Lazarus ! Lazarus ! " and swoon away for 
 delight.' 
 
 ' I'd rather have something now,' said 
 Joanna ; ' the gift of a sheet in winter is better 
 than the promise of a blanket in summer.' 
 
 * You are fed, clothed, shod at my expense,' 
 said the Jew. ' Your mind has been formed 
 and your morals moulded by me. You have 
 no cause to grumble.'
 
 224: COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Fed on scraps, clothed in rags, and edu- 
 cated to keep your accounts,' muttered the girl. 
 
 ' You are discontented, peevish, and don't 
 know when you are well off.' 
 
 ' Every man knows the warmth of his own 
 jacket,' said Joanna. 
 
 'Hw I've stored your mind with know- 
 ledge ! ' exclaimed the Jew. ' You know the 
 value of an article as well as I, whether furni- 
 ture, plate, clothing, china. I've taught you a 
 lot of useful information, summing, bookkeep- 
 ing.' 
 
 8 What is the good of striking matches for 
 those who don't want light ? ' asked the girl 
 sullenly. 
 
 ' What has put you out of temper to-night, 
 Joanna ? ' 
 
 ' I have good reason to be in bad humour. 
 
 What have I done for Mr. Cheek that he should 
 
 give me the silk dress and the necklace ? No- 
 jo 
 
 thing but amuse him for an hour. What have 
 I done for you ? Everything. I have saved 
 your house from fire and your throat from the 
 razor. What do I set in return ? Nothing.' 
 
 4 1 am not ungrateful,' said Lazarus, seri- 
 ously. ' Wait a bit longer, my girl, and I will 
 show you that I am not. I cannot tell you
 
 THE MOXOKSRATIC PRINCIPLE 225 
 
 now what I will do for you, but I will in time. 
 I promise you this — you shall have a reward 
 such as you have not dreamed to possess. Have 
 I ever failed to keep my word, Joanna ? No, 
 never ; it don't pay in business to be shifty 
 about promises. Now you have alluded to 
 Mr. Charles Cheek, I wish to speak to you 
 about him, and to give you a word of advice.' 
 
 ' Which again will cost you nothing,' threw 
 in the girl. 
 
 ' It is clear to me, Joanna, that Mr. Charles 
 Cheek is interested in you. Now, you are no 
 longer a child. You have swelled on my good 
 fare into a big, handsome girl, not at all of the 
 ordinary type. If Mr. Cheek continues to come 
 here, you are the attraction. I am well pleased 
 that he should come here, and provide beef- 
 steak pie and champagne, and if you behave 
 discreetly all is well. He is weak and careless, 
 and you may entangle him in a w T eb whilst I 
 suck his blood ; but let it be understood be- 
 tween us that I will not have you entangled 
 in any thread of his spinning — not caught by 
 finger or toe, Joanna. Keep your head clear 
 and your heart cool. Be very careful of your- 
 self, not to allow the smallest feeling of regard 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 COURT ROYAL 
 
 to lodge in your bosom ; if yon do yon lose all 
 control over yourself.' 
 
 ' What is the advantage of offering a wig 
 to one with a head of hair ? ' asked the girl 
 contemptuously. ' I know how to take care 
 of myself. Tell me now, who is this Charles 
 Cheek?' 
 
 'He is the offspring of the Monokeratic 
 principle.' 
 
 < Of what ? ' 
 
 4 Of the Monokeratic system of business,' 
 answered Lazarus. 
 
 ' I do not understand.' 
 
 ' I will explain to you. Sit down, child, on 
 the other side of the fire. Old Joe Cheek — 
 Lord! I knew him well, years ago, with a 
 little shop and a long head. He was in Devon- 
 port when he began, but Devonport wasn't a 
 sphere for one like him, so he moved up country. 
 Not content with a small retail shop, he opened 
 a store of combined grocery, haberdashery, 
 stationery, hosiery, wines, drugs, and oriental 
 goods, and sold everything for ready money. 
 Others have done the same, but not on the 
 Monokeratic system . ' 
 
 6 What is that ? ' 
 
 'Well, he advertised all over Enoiand,
 
 THE MOXOKERATIC PRINCIPLE 22? 
 
 "Try Cheek's Monokeratic system." "Mono- 
 keratic " is a Greek word, and means " the 
 unicorn." Cheek's system is the unicorn system. 
 That is the principle on which, he does business 
 and realises a great fortune.' 
 
 ' What is the unicorn system ? ' 
 
 1 The system of ready money. Most trades- 
 men have two systems — the cash system and 
 the credit system, and they do business on 
 both. Cheek does solely ready-money busi- 
 ness.' 
 
 4 So do others, but they don't call it by so 
 wonderful a name.' 
 
 ' Exactly, and that is why they don't make 
 it answer so well. It is because Cheek calls a 
 simple thing by a sounding name that he does 
 a roaring trade. You know nothing, Joanna, 
 worth calling knowledge if you do not know 
 this, that English people love humbug as Italians 
 love oil and Spaniards love garlic. Nothing goes 
 down with them in politics, religion, business, 
 unless it be seasoned to rankness with humbug. 
 Mr. Cheek is sufficiently man of the world 
 to know that, and sufficiently clever to take 
 advantage of it. If old Joe Cheek did as 
 others, and sold for tenpence cash what his 
 neighbours sold for a shilling credit, he would 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 COURT EOYAL 
 
 not have many customers, but he has managed 
 very cleverly. Every article is priced at credit 
 value, and when a customer leaves his shop he 
 is given a cheque for the discount. He pays full 
 credit price as cash, and receives the discount 
 back as a cheque to be deducted from his bill 
 when next he purchases at Cheek's. Do you 
 understand? By this means he secures the 
 return of the customer, who thinks he must 
 come back and buy something more so as to 
 recover the money on his cheque.' 
 
 ' But if he does not go back ? ' 
 
 'Then he forfeits it. He has paid credit 
 price in cash. This is the Monokeratic prin- 
 ciple of business. You have no idea what a 
 fascination the name and the cheque exercise 
 on simple people.' 
 
 'But what has this to do with the uni- 
 corn ? ' 
 
 ' Nothing whatever. The unicorn has one 
 horn, and Cheek one way of doing business. 
 That is the connection of ideas. The great 
 charm lies in the word " Monokeratic," of the 
 meaning of which the purchasers have not the 
 smallest idea.' 
 
 'And he does a good business? ' asked Joanna 
 interested.
 
 THE MOXOKERATIC PRINCIPLE 229 
 
 ' A roaring business. I wish I did one-half 
 as good. I lent him money when starting ; but 
 I knew my man. He slipped out of my fingers 
 very quickly.' 
 
 'He must have brains,' said Joanna with 
 admiration. 
 
 8 He has indeed.' 
 
 ' Then Mr. Charles is his son ? ' 
 
 k Yes — without the brains.' 
 
 ' Is he in the business ? ' 
 
 ' Oh dear no ! Charlie is far too fine a 
 gentleman to soil his fingers with trade. He 
 can spend money, but cannot make it. Old Joe 
 Cheek was very anxious to have his son in the 
 concern. His idea is not bad. The old man 
 is a Dissenter and a Eadical, and lie wanted 
 Charlie to become a Churchman and Tory. 
 Then he calculated each could milk his own 
 cow. But Charlie had not the pluck and 
 energy for it. There is where we Jews have 
 the pull over you Christians. Now and then you 
 have among you a man of genius who makes a 
 business, but the son has not his ability or per- 
 severance, and lets it fall. With us the faculty 
 of business is transmitted hereditarily, like our 
 features ; it never fails, leaps a generation, dies 
 out.'
 
 230 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' And Mr. Charles— -what does lie do with his 
 time?' 
 
 ' Throws it away. Faculties ? Throws them 
 away. Money? Throws it away. He has 
 come to me for money, and I have helped 
 him. The old man turns rusty at times ; but 
 everything must go to Charlie in the end, as he 
 is the only son ; and then the business also will 
 be thrown away.' 
 
 ' I suppose,' said Joanna, ' if he be such 
 a fool, he may even throw himself away? ' 
 
 Lazarus looked at her in surprise. ' You are 
 clever,' said he, ' but not clever enough to 
 manage that. The thing you must consider is, 
 to keep yourself secure. I don't want to lose 
 you as I lost ' 
 
 ' Lost what ? ' 
 
 < Eachel.' 
 
 6 Who ran away with Eachel ? ' 
 
 ' Never mind. No one you ever heard 
 
 of. 
 
 8 Where is she now ? ' 
 
 8 I have told you I do not know.' 
 
 ' Is she alone ? ' 
 
 8 I do not know.' 
 
 'Is he with her?' 
 
 8 No.'
 
 THE MONOKEKATIC PRINCIPLE 231 
 
 ' I suppose,' said the girl, c if the burglar 
 had cut your throat to-night, that Rachel 
 would have heard of it, and come and claimed 
 everything — your money, your jewels, your 
 plate — and turned me out penniless.' 
 
 The Jew was startled, and looked at Joanna 
 speechlessly. 
 
 ' You have never been legally divorced ? ' 
 
 6 Xo. I don't fling money among lawyers. 
 We are separated for ever practically, though 
 perhaps not legally.' 
 
 6 Then she could take everything you have 
 — or had, supposing your throat cut ? ' 
 
 ; I suppose so,' was his slowly uttered reply, 
 and he rubbed his legs before the fire, frowning 
 and studying the coals. 
 
 'Joanna,' he said, after consideration of 
 some minutes, which she did not interrupt, 
 ' that shall never be. Rather than that I will 
 bequeath everything to you, every stick in the 
 storerooms, and crumb in the larder, and farthing 
 in my chest.' 
 
 ' That is your most sensible course,' said 
 Joanna ; ' that suits me better than stale advice 
 and flat Ems.' 
 
 ' I will do it,' said the Jew. ' I will write to 
 Grudge.'
 
 232 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' I will bring the pen and ink at once.' 
 
 ' Not now — there is time. I'll do it some 
 time.' 
 
 ' That will not suit me,' said Joanna. ' What 
 has to be done must be done on the spot. Do 
 you not see that your interests are at stake ? You 
 secure me in the shop, ensuring my caring for 
 everything as if it were my own, protect your- 
 self against peculation by me,' she laughed 
 mockingly. ; You tie me to you as a faithful 
 servant for ever. I shall no mere grumble. I 
 shall be active, and on the alert to drive hard 
 bargains. I shall be bound to you Monokera- 
 tically.' 
 
 1 What do you mean ? How Monokerati- 
 cally?' 
 
 1 By one principle, the strongest of all — self 
 interest.'
 
 233 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WANTED, A HOUSEMAID. 
 
 A few clays after the events related in the fore- 
 going chapters, Lazarus plunged into the kitchen 
 with the newspaper in his hand, in hot excite- 
 ment. 
 
 ■ Joanna ! ' he exclaimed, ' my dear Joanna, 
 put down the saucepan at once, and follow me 
 into my room. I have something very par- 
 ticular to say. Providence is playing into our 
 hands. Look at the paper, read that ! ' 
 
 He thrust it towards her. 
 
 ' My hands are wet,' she said ; ' I cannot 
 take the paper without reducing it to pulp. 
 Eead what you want me to know ; I can listen 
 and scour the saucepan.' 
 
 ' You cannot. I want your close attention. 
 Put dowu the pan. Here, come into my room, 
 away from the distractions of a kitchen. Take 
 a seat. I have much to explain to you. Now, 
 at last, you may render me valuable service.'
 
 234 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' I have rendered you that for many years. 
 I have recently saved your house from fire and 
 your throat ' 
 
 ' Do leave my throat alone ; you are con- 
 tinually making allusions to it which are painful.' 
 
 Joanna followed him into his room, and 
 wiped her hands on her apron. He held the 
 sheet to her, and indicated the lines she was to 
 read. The paper was a Plymouth daily news- 
 paper of local circulation, widely distributed in 
 the West of England. The Jew had indicated 
 the advertisement columns. 
 
 'Well,' said Joanna, 'this does not concern 
 me. " Wanted, a housemaid, immediately, in 
 a gentleman's family ; steady, experienced, not 
 under twenty, a church woman ; must have good 
 recommendations. Wages, 16/. Apply, Mr. 
 C. Worthivale, Court Eoyal Lodge, Kings- 
 bridge." ' 
 
 ' It does concern you.' 
 
 ' Only so far as to show me how little I get 
 working for you. I am not going into service 
 elsewhere — no such luck.' 
 
 ' But I do want you to go into service with 
 the advertiser.' 
 
 ' What ! Leave you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, for three months ; then to return.'
 
 WANTED, A HOUSEMAID 235 
 
 ' Why so ? ' 
 
 1 1 will give you niy reasons presently.' 
 
 Joanna looked again at the advertisement 
 with a puzzled face. 
 
 'lama maid-of-all-work. I am not an 
 experienced housemaid, fit to go into a gentle- 
 man's family.' 
 
 ' That does not matter. There is no mistress 
 — no lady in the house to see if you do your 
 work well or badly. Gentlemen do not care 
 how they pig.' 
 
 4 Steady,' said Joanna thoughtfully ; 'lam 
 steady as the Eddystone, but I am not more 
 than seventeen, and the advertiser requires a 
 servant to be over twenty.' 
 
 ' That does not matter. Gentlemen are no 
 judges of the ages of ladies. Besides, you look 
 old for your years.' 
 
 6 A churchwoman,' mused Joanna ; ' I am 
 nothing ; I have not been to any place of 
 worship except the board school, and there we 
 worshipped the inspector. How can I say I 
 am a churchwoman when I've been neither to 
 church nor chapel ? ' 
 
 8 That does not matter,' answered the Jew. 
 ' It is all a matter of sitting and standing. 
 When church does one thing chapel does con-
 
 236 COURT ROYAL 
 
 trary. Go to church for a Sunday or two, and 
 you'll get enough scrape of ideas to pass muster.' 
 
 'Then, how about references? I do not 
 suppose a character from you will count heavy.' 
 
 4 1 do not suppose it will,' answered the 
 Jew. ' I'll get Mrs. Delany to give you one, 
 the wife of Colonel Delany — a tip-top respect- 
 able party that.' 
 
 ' She has never seen me.' 
 
 4 That don't matter. I have lent her money.' 
 
 Presently Lazarus said, ' Go to the table, 
 Joanna, and we will rough out a character for 
 Mrs. Delany to put in form and write in her 
 best hand.' 
 
 Joanna took a pen, dipped it in the ink, 
 and drew a sheet of old dirty letter-paper before 
 her. ' Go ahead,' she said, somewhat sulkily. 
 
 ' " Mrs. Delany presents her compliments to 
 Mr. C. Worthivale, and begs to recommend a 
 strong, healthy young woman who has been in 
 her service three years, with whom she would 
 not have parted on any consideration had not 
 the girl been called to nurse a dying mother." ' 
 
 ' No,' said Joanna, putting down her pen, 
 4 1 will not write that.' 
 
 'It is as true as the rest.' 
 
 ' That is not what I scruple about. I will
 
 WANTED, A HOUSEMAID 237 
 
 not have my mother mentioned. She may 
 be back any day with my ticket and ten 
 shillings.' 
 
 c Very well,' said the Jew, ' then we will 
 make it " white swelling." No — that won't do. 
 Say, " domestic affliction." ' 
 
 ' Domestic affliction,' repeated Joanna after 
 her dictator. 
 
 ' " When released," continued Lazarus, 
 ; " Mrs. Delany had supplied her place, and 
 could not in conscience dismiss her new house- 
 maid." ' 
 
 ' Go on,' said the girl. ' I have written as 
 far as " housemaid." ' 
 
 'Full stop after "maid,"' said the Jew. 
 6 Begin again with a capital. " Mrs. Delany 
 has always found the girl Joanna steady, 
 conscientious, and hard-working ; very clean, 
 both in her person and her work ; and, though 
 young-looking for her age, is turned twenty." ' 
 
 ' This is the first time you've said a good 
 word for me,' muttered the girl, ' and now it is 
 half lies. Shall I add " eats voraciously and 
 grows at a gallop " ? ' 
 
 6 On no account, my dear child. Continue 
 writing from my dictation,' said the Jew ; 
 ' " Joanna is unable to read or w r rite." '
 
 238 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Joanna laid down her pen. ' Why do you 
 say that ? ' 
 
 < Because it is the best recommendation that 
 can be given. It is as much as saying that you 
 are a good servant. Besides, Mr. C. Worthivale 
 will be less afraid of leaving about letters and 
 account-books if he thinks they are unintelligible 
 
 to you.' 
 
 ' I have written after your dictation that I 
 cannot write. Is that all ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, that will suffice. I will take the letter 
 to Mrs. Delany, and get her to transcribe and 
 post it — and put the penny stamp on also. You 
 are sure of the situation.' 
 
 ; You have not told me yet why I am to 
 take it.' 
 
 ' I will tell you now. Mr. Christopher 
 Worthivale is steward to the Duke of Kings- 
 bridge. I have advanced a great deal of money 
 on the property of the Duke — more money 
 than was prudent to put in one bag. The 
 estate is so hampered with mortgages, and the 
 requirements of the Duke are so great, that 
 Court Eoyal must come to the hammer. The 
 family is pretty well in my hands. I have the 
 mortgage on the home estate, which is the same 
 as a grip on their very heart. Now I want
 
 WAKTED, A HOUSEMAID 239 
 
 you to ascertain for me how matters really 
 stand there. You must pry and discover. I 
 want to know when to close the trap on the 
 noble Duke, and whether I should leave it open 
 a little longer. All the requisite information 
 can be had at the steward's. You will have 
 access to his office, and must look at his books. 
 You are keen of wit as myself, and cunning at 
 accounts as a banker's clerk.' 
 
 * I must give up my dancing lessons for 
 this ! ' exclaimed the girl, pouting and disposed 
 to cry. 
 
 ' The dancing lessons ! I had forgotten 
 them.' 
 
 4 1 have not ; nor Mr. Charles Cheek, and his 
 suppers, and the rose silk dress, and the Roman 
 pearls.' 
 
 1 You shall have the lessons on your return.' 
 
 ' By that time Mr. Cheek will have forgotten 
 
 me. 
 
 go. 
 
 6 That is possible.' 
 
 1 But that does not suit me. I will not 
 
 ' I have my plans, Joanna.' 
 * And I have mine, Lazarus.' 
 He looked at her for some minutes, irreso- 
 lutely. Her brow was clouded, her eyes dull ;
 
 240 COURT ROYAL 
 
 the tears were filling them, and her lips qui- 
 vered. She restrained the fall of the rain with 
 effort. 
 
 ' Joanna, I am sending you where you may 
 observe the manners of the gentry. You are 
 sharp enough, and can use your knowledge. 
 You must study their habits of action and their 
 modes of speech. Some day you may have to 
 assume a position in which this knowledge will 
 be of service to you. Eemember, you are my 
 heiress.' He opened a locked drawer, and drew 
 forth his will. ' Look ! I have kept my word. 
 I have left everything to you. Now, in your 
 own interest it behoves you to see after my 
 investments at Court Eoyal. Look well at the 
 place. It may be yours some day. Such is 
 the way of the world. That which is at the 
 top comes down, and that which is at the 
 bottom mounts. It is so in every saucepan, in 
 every stew, and the world is but a boiling 
 cauldron where the currents cross one another 
 unceasingly.' 
 
 Joanna's face flushed, and the tears dis- 
 appeared from her eyes, which waxed bright 
 and eager. ' I will go,' she said ; ' I will do 
 everything you desire ; I will find out every- 
 thing.'
 
 241 
 
 ' Very well,' said Lazarus laughing. ' Now 
 hunt up the sort of clothes you will need to 
 wear, and let me see how you look in the 
 rig-out of a respectable, sober-minded, and 
 stupid English housemaid.' 
 
 After a few minutes she returned. 
 
 She had assumed a dark, quiet gown, with 
 a white apron. She had brushed back her 
 hair, and put on her a pretty white cap. 
 
 ' Oh ho ! on my word ! ' exclaimed the Jew. 
 ' What sweet simplicity ! Holloa, my pert 
 Betsy Jane ! ' He chucked her under the chin 
 insolently. 
 
 Joanna flushed crimson, and, striking him in 
 the chest, sent him staggering back, to tumble 
 over a stool and sprawl on the ground. 
 
 8 I will do what you bid,' she said angrily, 
 'but touch me if you dare.' 
 
 Then the shop-door rang, and Joanna heard 
 a voice calling her. She left Lazarus on the 
 floor, rubbing his shin, and went into the shop. 
 There stood Charles Cheek. 
 
 ' Well now ! ' exclaimed the young man, 
 4 this is a transformation scene in a pantomime. 
 What is the meaning of this ? ' 
 
 ' Mr. Cheek,' said Joanna, ' I have been 
 considering what you said to me the other day. 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 COURT ROYAL 
 
 I am going into another element, to learn the 
 manners of the gulls. It is a voyage of dis- 
 covery. I know no more of the habits and 
 speech and thoughts of those I am going to 
 see than if I were about to visit Esquimaux.'
 
 243 
 
 CHAPTEE XYI. 
 
 VENTFE. 
 
 On the last day of November Joanna was de- 
 posited with her box at the gate of Court Eoyal 
 Lodge. A servant came out, and helped her to 
 carry the box round by the back door into the 
 house. She was taken to her room, where she 
 rapidly divested herself of her travelling clothes 
 and assumed apron and cap. The fellow-ser- 
 vant looked critically at her, and said, ' Oh my ! 
 how young you be ! How many sweethearts 
 have you had ? Among them a redcoat, I 
 reckon, if you've been in Plymouth. I should 
 dearly like to have a redcoat. They be beau- 
 tiful creatures.' 
 
 ' I have no sweetheart,' answered Joanna. 
 
 ' Then I reckon yon won't be long without 
 one here. There be gamekeepers here and the 
 footmen. But of that another time. I tell you 
 this is an easy place. There is no missus. There 
 
 R 2
 
 244 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ought to be proper-ly, but the young lady is 
 swallowed up by the folks at the Court, so she 
 is never here. All the better for us. Master 
 is a good sort of a man — very soft. Lets us 
 have our own way, and believes all the crams 
 we tell. As soon as you're ready the master '11 
 want to see you.' 
 
 ' I am ready now.' 
 
 ' And,' continued the servant, ' I'll bet you 
 a shilling I know what he '11 say to y'.' 
 
 ' I never bet. Shillings are too hardly 
 earned to be cast away.' 
 
 1 1 didn't mean naught, really. I'll tell y' 
 exactly what master '11 say. He '11 begin like 
 the minister in church : " come, let us wor- 
 ship, and fall down." He always does with 
 every lady who comes into service here for the 
 first time. There is his bell. I reckon he won't 
 think you can be old enough, judging by your 
 looks. I shouldn't believe you was twenty, if 
 you swore it till black in the face.' 
 
 Joanna was shown into the drawing-room, 
 where Mr. Worthivale stood on the mat, with 
 his back to the fire, moving his feet uneasily. 
 He disliked an interview with servants, not from 
 pride, but from consciousness that he was help- 
 less in their hands — a defenceless fort.
 
 TENITE 245 
 
 c Good day,' he said ; ' please shut the door. 
 Miss Worthivale is not here at present, so I must 
 tell you what you have to do. Your name is 
 Joanna P ' 
 
 1 Yes, sir.' 
 
 4 And your age is twenty ? ' 
 
 ' So I am told, sir. I don't remember my 
 birth.' 
 
 6 1 suppose not. Of course not. You are 
 highly recommended to me. Mrs. Delany is the 
 wife of Colonel Delany, of the Eoyal Engineers, 
 I presume. One cannot make too sure. I turned 
 up the name in the Directory. I understand 
 you have suffered a domestic affliction. I see 
 you wear a black gown. I am sorry. I hope 
 you have not lost a very near relative — not a 
 father or a mother ? ' He spoke in a kind, 
 sympathetic tone. 
 
 1 My father is dead, sir,' she answered, look- 
 ing down and slightly colouring. 
 
 ' Dear me — how sad ! and your poor mother 
 is alone in the world — a rough world for a 
 fresh-bleeding heart to battle with. Have you 
 brothers and sisters ? ' 
 
 Joanna answered, in a low voice, ' Xone, 
 .sir.' 
 
 ' It must have been a hard matter for vour
 
 *246 COURT ROYAL 
 
 poor widowed mother to make up her mind to 
 part with you. Sad also for you to have to 
 leave her in her bereavement and desolation. 
 Well, you have the comfort of knowing that a 
 Hand is extended over the widow and the 
 fatherless. Don't cry, child.' 
 
 Joanna was strangely agitated. The kind 
 tone touched her, conscious of, and beginning 
 to be ashamed of, her false position. Her 
 cheeks darkened and her eyes clouded. She 
 hung her head to conceal her face. 
 
 'You must write to your mother by this 
 evening's post. Tell her you have arrived, here 
 quite safely, and — I think you may add you 
 are in a house where you will be treated with 
 consideration. Oh ! I forgot — you cannot 
 write. I beg you a thousand pardons ; it had 
 escaped me. Shall I drop your mother a line ? 
 It would comfort her. Or, if you prefer it, get 
 your fellow-servant, Emily, to write. I will 
 let you have paper and envelope and stamp 
 from the office shortly.' 
 
 6 Thank you, sir,' said Joanna, looking up. 
 She had recovered herself. ' My mother — I 
 do not know where she is. She is not dead, 
 but lost ! ' 
 
 ' Good God ! — poor child ! — Lord bless
 
 YEXITE 247 
 
 me ! — what tragedies are played in the depths 
 below the surface on which we swim serene | 
 But, for the matter of that.' he added with a 
 sigh, ' there are sad enough stories, cares, and 
 breakdowns about and above us. I suppose 
 happiness and sorrow are pretty equally dis- 
 tributed through all the strata of life — only 
 differing in kind, hardly in intensity. You look 
 very young, my child ; I should not have 
 thought you as old as Mrs. Delany affirms.' 
 
 1 I have had more experience than many 
 who are much older.' 
 
 8 1 have no doubt about that. Trouble and 
 responsibility ripen the character prematurely. 
 Sit down, Joanna ; you must be tired with 
 your long journey. I hope Emily has given 
 you something to eat. The drive from the 
 station is long and cold, over exposed moor. 
 Lord bless me ! when shall we have a junction 
 line ? ' 
 
 ' Thank you kindly, sir, I am not hungry. 
 The cook is going to give me some dinner 
 presently.' 
 
 1 That is right. I will not detain you long. 
 I must put you in the way of things at the 
 outset, and then all will go smoothly after- 
 wards. I dare say your attention was called
 
 248 COURT ROYAL 
 
 to a wall for nearly two miles along the 
 
 roadside ? ' 
 
 1 Yes, sir.' 
 
 'Very fine trees on tlie other side. Un- 
 fortunately, the trees are not now in leaf, so 
 that they do not show to advantage. I always 
 think that a park tree in winter is like a man 
 of family without a landed estate. You know 
 he is great, but he does not look it.' 
 
 ' I saw the trees, sir.' 
 
 ' Well, Joan. That is your name, is it not ? 
 The wall encloses the park, and the trees you 
 saw grow in the park enclosed by that wall.' 
 
 8 Yes, sir, I understand.' 
 
 6 The park covers nearly — not quite — a 
 thousand acres, and some of the timber is 
 magnificent.' After a pause, to allow of the 
 absorption and assimilation of what he had 
 communicated, Mr. Worthivale said slowly, 
 4 That park is Court Royal' 
 
 8 Does it belong to this house, sir ? ' asked 
 Joanna, with affected simplicity. 
 
 Mr. AVorthivale fell back against the 
 mantelshelf, dropped his coat-tails, which must 
 have touched the bars of the grate, as an odour 
 of singed wool pervaded the room. ' Good 
 heavens ! what are you thinking of? You
 
 VEX1TE 249 
 
 must indeed be ignorant, very ignorant, to sup- 
 pose that so magnificent a park could belong- 
 to this humble residence. This house is Court 
 Koyal Lodge. Not, you understand, the lodge 
 at the park gates, but an ornate cottage situ- 
 ated on a patch of ground cut out from the 
 park, where was once an overgrown, ragged, 
 and unsightly bed of laurels. His Grace was 
 pleased to erect the lodge for my late father. 
 It is the house of the steward. I am the 
 steward.' 
 
 Yes, sir.' 
 
 ' And the park and the land as far as you 
 can see — that is to say, almost all, not quite all 
 — belongs to his Grace the Duke of Kings- 
 bridge. I am the steward of his Grace. Now 
 you understand my position.' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, and I am to be housemaid to the 
 steward of his Grace the Duke of Kingsbridge ? ' 
 
 4 Quite so,' said Mr. Worthivale ; ' you have 
 grasped the situation. Bless my soul ! I have 
 burnt my tail. I thought I smelt something. 
 How can I have done that ? Now, what I 
 want you particularly to understand, Joan, 
 from the outset is this — the proper manner in 
 which to address those of the ducal family who 
 do me the honour of calling. As it happens,
 
 250 COURT ROYAL 
 
 one or other comes here nearly every day. 
 You, of course, have not had to do with people 
 of title at Mrs. Delany's ? ' 
 
 ' Mrs. Delany's husband is a colonel, sir.' 
 
 ' A colonel ! ' echoed Mr. Worthivale, 
 looking offended and disgusted. 'What is a 
 colonel ? Nothing.' 
 
 'Then,' continued Joanna, running over the 
 uniforms in Mr. Lazarus's store with a mental 
 eye, ' there was a field- marshal, and an admiral 
 of the Blue, and half a dozen generals, and a 
 silk cassock, red hood, and college cap.' 
 
 The steward silenced her with a wave of 
 the hand. 
 
 ' What I particularly wish you to under- 
 stand, Joan, from the beginning is how you are 
 to comport yourself at the door should his 
 Grace, or Lord Edward, or Lord Eonald, or the 
 Marquess, or Lady Grace ring the bell. Emily 
 and you will have alternate afternoons at home. 
 She likes to go out every other clay, and I dare 
 say you will be glad to do the same ; exercise 
 and fresh air are good for health. When Emily 
 is out you will answer the bell. Open that 
 photographic album on the table, and look at 
 the first carte-de-visite — no, cabinet-size por- 
 trait. You perceive a venerable gentleman
 
 VENITE 251 
 
 with white hair and fine aristocratic counten- 
 ance. That is the Duke. He does not come 
 here often. He cannot walk so far. If he 
 comes, the carriage brings him. You cannot 
 mistake him if you observe his waxlike com- 
 plexion, and if you notice that the carriage 
 stands at the gate. It is essential that you 
 make no mistake in addressing him. I could 
 pardon a lapse with the others, but not with 
 him ; so impress his features on your memory. 
 When you open the door to him, mind you 
 curtsey. Can you curtsey ? The art is dying 
 out. Ask Emily to put you in the way, and 
 practise it till you are proficient. You must 
 address the Duke as " your Grace." He will 
 probably say, " My child, is Mr. Worthivale at 
 home ? " Then you curtsey a second time and 
 say, " Yes, your Grace." If I am out — which 
 God forbid ! — then say, " No, your Grace." 
 If you are uncertain, say, " Will it please your 
 Grace to step in, and I will inquire." You 
 understand ? ' 
 
 'Yes, sir.' 
 
 8 Turn the page, and you will see two 
 dignified gentlemen. One is Lord Eonald, the 
 other Lord Edward. Look at them well. 
 They are like the Duke, but have not quite his
 
 252 COURT ROYAL 
 
 presence and beauty. They are his brothers — 
 younger brothers, of course — which accounts for 
 their slight inferiority ; of course, I mean rela- 
 tive — relative only to his Grace. You address 
 them each as " my lord." " Is Mr. Worthivale 
 at home? " " Yes, my lord," or " No, my lord," 
 as the case may be. Here, Joan, I will go 
 into the passage and knock at the door. Then 
 you open and curtsey, and I will represent — I 
 am ashamed to do it — the Duke of Kings- 
 bridge, and you will receive me according as I 
 have instructed you. Let me see if you have 
 taken the lesson to heart. After that I will 
 represent Lord Eonald or Lord Edward. Let 
 me have the satisfaction of knowing that you 
 have apprehended my instructions.' 
 
 So Mr. Worthivale rehearsed with Joanna 
 what he had taught her. He was void of 
 all sense of humour, and unconscious of the 
 absurdity of his conduct, and that the girl was 
 laughing in her sleeve. 
 
 6 Turn the page again,' said the steward. 
 ' You see the Marquess. You address him also 
 as " my lord." You understand ? ' 
 
 'l r es, sir,' said Joanna distractedly. She 
 was looking at the next portrait with interest. 
 6 Oh, sir ! please, sir, who is this beautiful lady?'
 
 VEXITE 253 
 
 8 That lady is as perfect and sweet in 
 mind and soul as she is in feature/ answered 
 Mr. Worthivale. ' That is the Lady Grace 
 Eveleigh. And, remember, she is not Lady 
 Grace, but the Lady Grace. A Knight's 
 wife is a Lady, you know. The makes all 
 the difference in the world. Everyone who 
 knows that lady loves her, she is so good, so 
 kind.' 
 
 ' I am sure they do,' said Joanna eagerly. 
 1 I am certain I shall love her, too.' 
 
 The steward was pleased ; he smiled and 
 nodded. ' You will address her as " my lady," 
 you understand ? ' 
 
 < Yes.' 
 
 8 Turn the page again, and you will see a 
 photograph of Court Eoyal.' 
 
 ' That house ? ' inquired the girl ; ' why, it 
 has got pillars before the door just like the 
 Eoyal Hotel at Plymouth.' 
 
 Mr. Worthivale shuddered and drew back. 
 
 ' My good girl ! For heaven's sake don't 
 liken a ducal mansion to — an — an — inn, how- 
 ever respectable and old-established. It is 
 possible that the Eoyal Hotel may have a 
 portico ' 
 
 4 It has two,' said Joan, eager for the credit
 
 254 COURT EOYAL 
 
 of the Plymouth house. ' Has this place got 
 two ? I ouly see one in the picture.' 
 
 Mr. Worthivale was silenced ; he coloured, 
 and looked down on the rug, frowning. Court 
 Eoyal had but one portico. Presently he said 
 in an embarrassed tone, ' It may be true — I do 
 not dispute it — that the inn in question has two 
 porticos. But there is a difference, my girl, 
 between porticos. Some are shams, shabby, 
 and stucco ; two, even five, porticos would be 
 insignificant beside one real portico, such as 
 that which graces the front of Court Eo} T al. 
 The pillars are of granite, red granite from 
 Exmoor. When your eyes rest on the mansion 
 you will feel at once the temerity of drawing 
 comparisons between it and — and — an inn. 
 Upon my word, I think you had better go 
 there at once — that is, after you have had 
 something to eat and drink. By the way, do 
 not speak of the mansion as " the house ; " 
 that is scarcely respectful, and is contrary to 
 usage. You mention it always as " the Court." 
 You shall go down, Joan, to the Court after 
 you have partaken of some refreshment. I 
 will write a note which will serve as an excuse 
 for sending you. When there, ask to see the 
 housekeeper, Mrs. Probus, a most admirable
 
 VENITE 255 
 
 woman. She will show you over the state 
 apartments. His Grace is out. He has gone 
 for a drive. I saw the carriage pass half an 
 hour ago, and unquestionably the Lady Grace 
 is with him. Lord Edward is away, back at 
 his Somersetshire living, superintending the 
 preparations for Christmas and the charities. 
 The Marquess, I have no doubt, is out shooting, 
 and you are not likely to come across Lord 
 Eonald. Mrs. Probus knows what to do and 
 where to take you. Rely upon her. Do not 
 put off your walk too late. The da} 7 s close in 
 rapidly, and I want you to see the Court to 
 advantage, and to be impressed by the in- 
 fluences of the Place and the Family.'
 
 256 COURT ROYAL 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 STOCK-TAKING. 
 
 Joanna was given the letter by Mr. Worthivale, 
 and walked through the park to Court Royal. 
 The evergreen shrubs on both sides of the drive 
 relieved the monotony of winter bleakness. 
 The pines were clothed ; of them there was 
 great variety. The oak, though turned brown, 
 was not divested of all its leaves. The day was 
 fine and the air mild. Joanna knew nothing of 
 the country ; she was surprised at and delighted 
 with all she saw. She stood watching the 
 fallow deer, till she was frightened by the rush 
 past her, on wing, of a pheasant. The wood- 
 pigeons were flying in hundreds from one beech 
 clump to another, rejoicing over the fallen 
 masts. The afternoon sun shone yellow over 
 the front of Court Royal, making the windows 
 glitter like sheets of gold leaf. Joanna went 
 round to the back of the house, and delivered
 
 STOCK-TAKIXG 257 
 
 her letter and message. She was taken into the 
 servants' hall, where some of the maids were 
 receiving visitors from Kingsbridge, and stuff- 
 ing them with veal pie, ham, tarts and clotted 
 cream. They ate cream with their ham, heaped 
 it on their bread, and jam on top of the 
 cream equally deep ; they drank it with their 
 tea, and filled the cups with lump sugar till the 
 lumps stood out of the tea like Ararat above 
 the flood. Some of the servants' friends had 
 brought their children with them ; these over- 
 ate themselves, were unwell, retired, and came 
 back to repeat the process. 
 
 Joanna looked on in amazement. She was 
 invited to take her place with the rest, but de- 
 clined, as she had dined recently. 
 
 Then the housekeeper came in, smiled be- 
 nevolently on the visitors, bade them enjoy 
 themselves, and called Joanna away to see round 
 the Court. 
 
 The housekeeper had been bred in the tra- 
 ditions of the knowledge and love and fear of 
 the great Kingsbridge family. Her father had 
 been a footman, her mother a lady's maid in 
 the service of the late Duke, who had married 
 and kept the lodge. The first recollection of 
 her infant mind was being noticed as a healthy, 
 
 vol. i. S
 
 258 COURT ROYAL 
 
 pretty child, by the late Dowager Duchess. 
 She had been educated, gratis, at the school 
 supported by his Grace, a school which had in 
 its window the ducal arms and supporters in 
 stained glass, and outside, in the gable, the 
 ducal coronet and initials of Beavis, seventh 
 Duke of Kingsbridge. At an early age she had 
 served the family by opening the gates of the 
 drive, and had worshipped the family with 
 curtsies before she had been found old enough 
 to go to church and worship God. Then she 
 had been taken into the Court, and been a ser- 
 vant there all her life, first in one capacity, then 
 in another, till she married the red-faced coach- 
 man, who wore a white wig and sat on a 
 hammercloth emblazoned with the ducal arms. 
 Upon the death of the coachman, Mrs. Probus 
 returned to the great house as housekeeper. It 
 was unnecessary for her to do so. She had 
 saved, during her long service, a good deal of 
 money. The pickings had been considerable. 
 But the pickings were too considerable, the 
 living too good, the work too light to be re- 
 signed hastily, and Mrs. Probus felt that it 
 would be banishment to hyperborean night to 
 be consigned to an almshouse for the rest of her 
 days, away from the splendour of the ducal
 
 STCC'K-TAKIXG 25 9 
 
 system, illumined only by the flicker of con- 
 sciousness that the almshouses had been founded 
 for the reception of worn-out ducal retainers. 
 So, though Mrs. Probus often spoke of retiring, 
 she postponed the evil day. 
 
 Her little sitting-room, into which she intro- 
 duced Joanna, was furnished with memorials 
 of the Eveleighs. Over the chimney-piece, of 
 course, was the portrait of the present Duke ; 
 over the sideboard, the picture of the late Duke. 
 On the cheffonier were the silver tea-kettle given 
 her by the Duke on her marriage, and a silver 
 salver with a long inscription, presented to the 
 late lamented coachman on his completion of the 
 fiftieth year of service. On all sides were pre- 
 sents — remembrances of the Dowager Duchess 
 Anna Maria, of the late Duchess Sophia. On 
 her bosom she bore a brooch containing the 
 hair of the Marquess and Lady Grace, whom 
 she had nursed as infants ; and about her finger 
 was a white ring woven of silver hair, cut from 
 the head of Frederick Augustus, sixth Duke of 
 Kingsbridge, Marquess of Saltcombe, Viscount 
 Churchstowe, Baron Portlemouth, Baronet, 
 Grand Commander of the Bath, Knight of the 
 Garter, of Saint Patrick, of the Black Eagle, 
 
 s 2
 
 260 COURT ROYAL 
 
 etc. etc. etc., cut off his head when she had laid 
 him out for burial. 
 
 Mrs. Probus was proud to show the house 
 to Joanna. When she learned that Joanna 
 was the new servant come to the lodge, she 
 understood at once that she had been sent down 
 there to be impressed, and Mrs. Probus was 
 never happier than when stamping the ducal 
 family on young minds. A reverent fear and 
 love of the family was the best preservative 
 youth could have against the trials and tempta- 
 tions of life. It would save a girl from flighti- 
 ness. Every one who moved in the Kingsbridge 
 system was respectable to the tips of little finger 
 and little toe. Imprudence was impossible to 
 one nurtured in the Kingsbridge atmosphere. 
 When the butler heard of a young man who 
 had taken to drinking and gone to the bad, 
 ' Poor fellow,' he said, ' if only he could have 
 been received as a stableboy here ! ' When 
 the housekeeper was told of a young woman 
 who had lost her character, ' How dreadful ! ' 
 she exclaimed ; ' would that she had been 
 kitchen-maid at Court Eoyal ! ' As the monks 
 and nuns of old believed that salvation was 
 hardly possible outside the cloister, the domes- 
 tics in the Kino-sbrid«"e constellation held that
 
 STOCK-TAKING 261 
 
 no one went to hell from Court Royal or Kings- 
 bridge House, Piccadilly. The same feeling 
 pervaded the entire estate. The tenants were 
 steeped in it. They were all respectable ; the 
 farmers Conservative, churchgoers, and tem- 
 perate ; their wives clean and rosy-cheeked, 
 attending to their dairies themselves, and curt- 
 seying like schoolgirls, and standing with their 
 hands under their aprons, when visited by one 
 of the family. The cottagers reared their 
 children to abstain from evil and do that which 
 is good, because there was a great Duke far 
 above them who knew everything that went on 
 upon his estates, and who, if the children were 
 clean and respectable, would take them up into 
 service in the Great House, and provide for 
 them and make them happy for ever. 
 
 Xo more moral, respectable, orderly, re- 
 ligious people were to be found in the West 
 of England than those on the Kingsb ridge 
 estate ; but all this morality, respectability, 
 order, and religion rested on the foundation 
 of the love and fear of the Duke. One Sun- 
 day, when the Rector's wife was catechising 
 the school children, she inquired who were 
 ' the elect people of God,' whereupon they 
 responded, as with one voice, ' The tenants of
 
 2G2 COURT ROYAL 
 
 the Duke, ma'am.' And what they said they 
 believed. 
 
 Mrs. Probus took Joanna up the grand 
 staircase, turning and glancing at her face at 
 the landings, to see that the proper expression 
 of wondering awe was there. She bade her 
 look at the pictures, and narrated the hackneyed 
 story of their acquisition on the continent by 
 the great Duke who was a general in the reign 
 of George I. The keen eyes of the girl were 
 in every corner, not on the pictures, which she 
 did not understand, but on the cabinets, the 
 Chinese vases, the pile carpet, the exotic ferns. 
 In the state drawing-room she made a halt, and 
 caught her breath. 
 
 ' my goodness ! ' she gasped ; ' the Chip- 
 pendale ! ' 
 
 'The what?' 
 
 1 The Chippendale ! ' exclaimed Joanna, 
 ' What first quality chairs and tables and cabi- 
 nets. Why, they ore worth a pot of money, 
 just now that the fashion runs on Chippendale.' 
 
 ' Of course the furniture is valuable,' said 
 Mrs. Probus with dignity. ' But pray do not 
 speak of it as though it were about to be sold 
 at an auction.' 
 
 1 And the china ! ' cried Joanna excitedly.
 
 STOCK-TAKING 263 
 
 ' That pair of Sevres vases any dealer would 
 give a hundred pounds for, and ask for them 
 two hundred and fifty, and take two hundred.' 
 
 8 No doubt the vases are precious. They 
 were given to the late Duke by King Charles X. 
 from the royal manufactory.' 
 
 ' That nude figure of a woman seated on a 
 dolphin is fine,' said Joanna. ' Oh, please may 
 I look at the mark ? Double C crowned — 
 Ludwigsburg, modelled by Eingler. Look at 
 the glaze. Observe the moulding ! ' 
 
 ' It is scarcely delicate,' said Mrs. Probus. 
 
 4 On the contrary, it is most delicate, and 
 considering the delicacy, in admirable condition. 
 Only some of the flowers on the pedestal are 
 chipped.' 
 
 'I did not allude to the fragility of the 
 china, but to the impropriety of a lady going 
 about with only a scarf over her. However, 
 the subject must be right, or it would not be 
 here.' 
 
 4 Of course it is right,' said Joanna excitedly. 
 1 It is splendid ; worth thirty pounds to a 
 dealer, double to a purchaser. That is a pretty 
 First Empire clock.' 
 
 ' It don't go,' said Mrs. Probus. 
 
 ' Who cares for that ? ' answered Joanna.
 
 264 COURT ROYAL 
 
 < The shape is the thing. The ornaments are 
 very chaste. There yon have some old Ply- 
 month.' 
 
 ' Yon seem to know a great deal about 
 porcelain.' 
 
 ' I do know something.' 
 
 ' Ah, yon ought to see the collection the 
 Marquess has in his room. He is a fancier, 
 and does not care what he pays to secure a 
 piece to his taste.' The housekeeper was 
 gratified at the enthusiasm and delight of the 
 girl. 
 
 ■ May I — oh, may I see it ? ' 
 
 6 Let me see — the Marquess has gone out. 
 I think it would be possible, though not allowed. 
 We may not show strangers over the private 
 apartments inhabited by the family. Still, this 
 is a different case ; you are a servant, almost, I 
 may say, of the family, as you are in the house 
 of the steward. Follow me through the dining- 
 room. I must show you the Eubens and 
 Ostades and Van Dycks, and the Murillo bought 
 by the late Duke Frederick Augustus ; he gave 
 for it seven thousand pounds.' 
 
 Joanna sighed. C I am ashamed to say I 
 know nothing of the value of pictures. That 
 requires a special education, which I have not
 
 STOCK-TAKING 265 
 
 had. It is a branch of the business ' She 
 
 stopped abruptly, and then said, ' I dare say you 
 have a catalogue of the paintings, which you 
 could let me have. I should so much like to 
 know what you have here ; what to admire. 
 Then, on another occasion, I shall be better 
 able to enter into the merits of the pictures. 
 You see, ma'am, with so much that is wonder- 
 ful about one, the mind becomes bewildered. 
 I will not look at the paintings to-day, I will 
 look only at the china and the furniture.' 
 
 6 Certainly,' said the housekeeper, ' what 
 you say is just, I will give you a printed 
 catalogue — privately printed, you understand.' 
 
 ' That is a magnificent inlaid Florentine 
 cabinet,' said Joanna ; ■ worth a hundred 
 guineas. Oh, what treasures you have here ! ' 
 
 ' Treasures indeed,' said Mrs. Probus ; ' you 
 see their Graces the Dukes of Kingsbridge have 
 always been patrons of art, and have collected 
 beautiful things in their travels through Europe.' 
 
 6 If only there were to be a sale here ' 
 
 ' Sale ! ' exclaimed the housekeeper ; ' good 
 heavens above ! What do you mean ? Sale ! 
 — sale in a ducal mansion ! Young woman, 
 restrain your tongue. The word is indecent.' 
 
 She tossed her head, frowned, and walked
 
 266 COURT ROYAL 
 
 forward stiffly, expressing disgust in every 
 rustle of her silk gown and in the very creak 
 of her shoes. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, ma'am. I was dazzled, 
 and did not know what I was talking about.' 
 
 ' Oh,' said Mrs. Probus, ' that alters the 
 case. Now we are in the wing containing the 
 private apartments. Here everything is more 
 modern and comfortable. You admire the 
 flowers, I perceive. Yes, there are camellia and 
 ferns in the corridor. If you like it, I will 
 conduct you over the conservatories — not now 
 — presently. His Grace sets great store on 
 the green-houses and winter- garden.' 
 
 ' Dear ma'am, I should so greatly like to 
 see them. I love flowers above everything in the 
 world. I have only fiwe little pots at home, on 
 the roof, and one of them contains a bit of wild 
 heather I dug up with my scissors, on the rare 
 occasion of a holiday. Now that I am aw r ay, I 
 do not know who will attend to my poor plants, 
 and whether I shall find them alive when I 
 return. I have no one in the world wdiom I 
 can ask to do a thing for me.' 
 
 ' This is the apartment of Lord Eon aid,' 
 said the housekeeper. ' I will not show you in 
 there. It contains nothing of interest — that is,
 
 STOCK-TAKING 267 
 
 nothing very extraordinary. His lordship was 
 a soldier, and loves to have everything plain. 
 No doubt it contains much that would interest 
 military men, but such as you and me don't 
 understand those pursuits. Here is the 
 Marquess's door. Wait a moment, whilst I 
 tap and peep in to make sure he is out. I am 
 sure he went out shooting, I saw him with the 
 keeper and the dogs — that is,' she corrected 
 herself, ' I saw the keeper and the dogs with 
 him.' 
 
 Mrs. Probus tapped timidly, and then 
 opened. ' Look about you,' she said, ' at the 
 costly china. He is out, as I supposed. It is 
 very bold of me to enter and introduce you. 
 See what abundance of porcelain there is here. 
 The Marquess is most particular. He will not 
 allow the housemaids to touch it. When 
 dusty, Lady Grace takes it down and cleans it. 
 He allows no other fingers than hers to touch 
 his valuable collection.' 
 
 1 How pretty the flowers are,' said Joanna, 
 looking at the bouquets on the table and on 
 the chimney-piece. ' So many posies — and 
 specimen glasses everywhere.' 
 
 1 Lady Grace always arranges them for her 
 brother,' answered the housekeeper.
 
 268 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' No wonder that they are lovely,' said the 
 girl. ' I should so much like to see Lady 
 Grace.' 
 
 ' You will do so some day. Yes,' she 
 said, as she saw that Joanna was looking at a 
 miniature on the wall over the fireplace, \ that 
 is her ladyship when she was younger — when 
 she was about eighteen.' 
 
 Joanna looked at the portrait with interest 
 for a long while. Eeluctantly, at last, she 
 turned away and began to examine the china. 
 
 c This is Chelsea,' she said contemptuously, 
 ' bad of its kind.' 
 
 ' It cannot be bad,' protested Mrs. Probus, 
 ' or it would not be here.' 
 
 ' This group ' began Joanna, putting 
 
 forth her finder. 
 
 Mrs. Probus arrested her hand. ' For 
 heaven's sake do not touch. You might break 
 — and then — dear life ! I should sink through 
 the floor in shame and sorrow.' 
 
 8 I shall not break anything,' answered 
 Joanna. ' I could walk like a cat among Dres- 
 den figures, or a best Swansea service, and not 
 upset or injure one article. Besides, if that 
 group were broken, what odds ! It is a modern 
 imitation.'
 
 STOCK- TAKING 269 
 
 ' What ! a connoisseur among my china ! 
 Condemning it, moreover ! ' 
 
 Mrs. Probus turned, shivered through all 
 the gathers of her silk gown, raised her hands 
 deprecatingly, and turned pale. 
 
 Joanna looked round at the speaker and 
 recognised the Marquess from the photograph 
 she had been shown. She said, with perfect 
 composure, ' Yes, my lord, this piece is not 
 genuine. I can tell it by the colour of the 
 glaze.' 
 
 ' Indeed ! I gave a long price for it.' 
 
 'You were taken in, my lord. It is not 
 worth fifteen shillings.' 
 
 ' Oh, my lord,' gasped Mrs. Probus, 6 1 beg 
 your pardon ten thousand times. I thought 
 you was out, and I dared take the liberty — the 
 inexcusable liberty — of bringing this young 
 person in, who pretended to be interested in 
 porcelain — and her to dare and say your lord- 
 ship was taken in ! You'll excuse my audacity, 
 my lord, I pray, and her ignorance and imper- 
 tinence.' 
 
 8 My dear Probus,' said the Marquess smil- 
 ing, ' I am overpleased to have my collection 
 shown to one who has taste and knowledge, 
 and discrimination.' Turning to Joanna, he
 
 270 COURT ROYAL 
 
 added, C I believe, to my cost, that you are 
 right. Doctor Jenkyn, who knows more about 
 china than anyone else in this county, has 
 pronounced unhesitatingly against this piece. 
 You are of the same opinion ? ' 
 
 1 1 know it, my lord. I know where it 
 was made. There is a manufactory of these 
 sham antiques. I can tell their articles at a 
 glance.' 
 
 4 You seem to have an accurate eye and 
 considerable knowledge.' 
 
 4 In my former situation I was with a 
 master who collected china, and so I learned 
 all about it — if I broke any, I got whacks.' 
 
 4 Don't be so familiar,' whispered Mrs. Pro- 
 bus, greatly shocked. 
 
 4 And,' continued Joanna, c my master, after 
 a while, so trusted my judgment, that he would 
 let me spend pounds on pounds on porcelain 
 for him.' 
 
 4 Were you never taken in ? ' 
 
 Joanna laughed. She taken in ! ' Never, 
 my lord.' 
 
 4 1 should like to know your opinion of 
 these bits of Chelsea.' 
 
 4 1 have already given it,' said Joanna, dis- 
 regarding the monitions of the housekeeper. 
 4 1 told Mrs. Probus it was a lot of rubbish.'
 
 STOCK-TAKING 271 
 
 The Marquess laughed. 
 c Eight again. That is exactly Dr. Jenkyn's 
 opinion, not expressed quite as forcibly as by 
 yon.' 
 
 1 Here, my lord, yon have a charming little 
 Dresden cup and saucer ; really good ; canary 
 yellow, with the cherubs in pink. It is well 
 painted, and good of its kind.' 
 
 1 Keep it,' said the Marquess. ' I make you 
 a present of it as a remembrance of my den 
 which you have invaded.' 
 
 ' Thank you ! thank you ! this is kind,' said 
 Joanna, with sparkling eye. ' I will never part 
 with my little cup, never ; and I beg pardon, 
 my lord, for having persuaded Mrs. Probus to 
 bring me in here, against her better judgment. 
 It was not her fault, it was mine. I entreated 
 her to let me see your china.' 
 
 1 Not another word ; you are heartily wel- 
 come. If I want to buy china again, I will 
 consult you.' 
 
 Joanna withdrew with a curtsey. Lord 
 Saltcombe signed to the housekeeper to remain 
 behind. 
 
 1 Who is the little china-fancier ? ' he asked, 
 in a low tone. 
 
 1 Oh, my lord ! I am so ashamed. Only the 
 new housemaid at the lodge.'
 
 272 COURT ROYAL 
 
 6 Indeed ! bow education advances ! ' laughed 
 the Marquess. 'In the march of culture we 
 are being overtaken. Who would have supposed 
 to find a housemaid so thorough a connoisseur ? 
 Well, she looks brimming over with brains, she 
 has plenty of assurance, and is deucedly pretty.'
 
 273 
 
 CHAPTEK XVIII. 
 
 LADY GRACE. 
 
 The words of commendation spoken by the 
 Marquess were sufficient to make Mrs. Probus 
 think of Joanna with more favour than before. 
 She had recovered from her panic, Joanna had 
 cleverly taken all the blame on herself, so the 
 old woman's face was wreathed with smiles, and 
 she professed her readiness to show the girl 
 whatever she desired. The Marquess had pro- 
 nounced on her abilities — a word of commenda- 
 tion from him was enough for Mrs. Probus. 
 
 ' I dare say, my dear,' said she confidentially, 
 6 that Mr. Blomfield, the butler, will let you see 
 the plate.' 
 
 c I am a judge of plate,' said Joanna gravely. 
 ' I know the hall marks on silver as I do those 
 on china,' 
 
 ' You do ? Lord bless me ! ' exclaimed the 
 housekeeper. Well, what is education coming 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274: COURT ROYAL 
 
 to ? That shows his lordship was right. He 
 said you had brains.' 
 
 4 Did he ? Then he can judge people as I 
 judge china. I should very much like to see 
 the plate.' 
 
 Mr. Blomfield did not require much pressing; 
 he was proud to show the splendour of the house 
 in his department. He allowed Joanna to enter 
 the plate room, and he opened for her the iron 
 doors of the cupboards in the wall, and ex- 
 hibited the shelves, lined with green cloth, on 
 which shone centre-pieces, goblets, urns, tea 
 and coffee pots, spoons and forks, salvers large 
 and small, candlesticks and candelabra. All 
 were in perfect order, shining brilliantly. 
 
 ' This,' said Mr. Blomfield, opening another 
 case, ' contains very old family plate. It is only 
 brought out on the grandest state occasions. 
 Here is a silver gilt ewer, magnificently chased, 
 said to be three hundred years old ; the present 
 Duke was baptized out of it, but I believe it 
 was a punchbowl formerly. Much of this is 
 admired, but I cannot say I like it. The forks 
 have but two prongs, and the spoons are rat- 
 tailed. There is no accounting for the taste that 
 can admire such things as these.' 
 
 ' I suppose, sir, you have an inventory of all
 
 LADY GRACE 275 
 
 the plate,' said Joanna timidly, raising her large 
 dark eyes to those of the butler. 
 
 6 Of course, miss, I have ; and I go over it 
 with the steward on occasions. Very proper it 
 should be so, though a mere matter of form. 
 Yon will not find many mansions where there 
 is such choice of plate. There is a great salver 
 which was presented to Field-Marshal John, 
 Duke of Kingsbridge, when he was Lord Salt- 
 combe, in King George's reign, by the mayor 
 and citizens of Ghent. I've heard,' continued 
 the butler, ' that in some of your parvenu 
 families there is a lot of plate, a great and 
 vulgar display — but the quality is not there. 
 All this is old and fine, and in good style. The 
 new plate looks to-dayish ; there is not the 
 character about it that our ancestral store 
 possesses.' 
 
 ' Do you know, sir, what you have got in 
 each cupboard ? ' 
 
 ' Of course I do, miss. Do you not see that 
 a list of the contents of each is pasted against 
 the iron door, inside ? And with the list is the 
 weight in silver and gold.' 
 
 ' What is the weight of the whole amount 
 of silver, Mr. Blomfield? ' asked the housekeeper. 
 
 4 1 have never counted,' was bis reply. ' It 
 
 T 2
 
 276 COURT ROYAL 
 
 is easily done ; sum the totals affixed to each list 
 on the doors.' 
 
 ' I should dearly like to know,' said Joanna. 
 * Where I was before I came here there was a 
 good deal of plate ; but nothing like this, oh, 
 nothing ! ' 
 
 'I suppose not,' said Mr. Blomfield with 
 dignity. ' No one with a title, I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Oh dear no. What about now, do you 
 think, sir, is the weight ? ' 
 
 ' I will take the numbers down and add them 
 up,' said Mrs. Probus good-naturedly. 
 
 ' Excuse me, sir,' said Joanna ; ' you have a 
 very beautiful bread-basket there. Might I look 
 at it more closely, and see the hall-mark ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly.' He handed the basket to her. 
 Joanna looked at the handle. ' It belongs to 
 the reign of William and Mary. The year I 
 cannot say without a book.' 
 
 ' Dear, now ! To think you have found 
 that out ! I have had to do with plate all my 
 life, and know nothing more of the marks than 
 to look for the lion and the head.' 
 
 'Here is the sum of the weight of plate,' 
 said Mrs. Probus. ' The silver in this column, 
 the gold in that.' 
 
 c All that ? ' exclaimed Joanna. ' Why, the
 
 LADY GRACE 277 
 
 silver at six-ancl-six an ounce, without allowing 
 anything for workmanship, is — five thousand 
 ounces — sixteen hundred and twenty-five 
 pounds ; but it would sell at a pound an ounce. 
 Five thousand pounds' worth of plate at the 
 lowest.' 
 
 ' You can calculate pretty quickly,' laughed 
 the butler. 
 
 'The Marquess said she had brains,' said 
 Mrs. Probus aside to Mr. Blomfield ; c he was 
 quite taken with her cleverness.' Then to 
 Joanna, 'Now I will show you over the con- 
 servatories. You may keep the sum of the 
 plate if you like.' 
 
 'Thank you,' answered Joanna. 'I shall 
 like it very much.' 
 
 Joanna was one of those children of this 
 century, and of town civilisation, in whom 
 shrewdness and simplicity, precocity and child- 
 ishness, are strangely mixed together. When 
 in the house among the furniture, china, and 
 plate, she was reserved, observant, calculating, 
 storing her observations in her retentive memory, 
 prizing everything she saw ; but when she en- 
 tered the greenhouses, that calculating spirit 
 left her, and she was an unspoiled girl, over- 
 flowing with fresh delight, full of exuberant
 
 278 COURT ROYAL 
 
 spirits. In the house, amidst the artistic valu- 
 ables, she was in a world with which she was 
 acquainted ; in the conservatories she had passed 
 to another and unfamiliar sphere. She had been 
 reared in the midst of manufactured goods, apart 
 from nature ; now she was'introduced to nature's 
 
 ' ill 
 
 best creations. Mrs. Probus was amused at the 
 girl's expressions of rapture at the beauty of 
 what she saw. Grapes she saw for the first 
 time hanging from the vines, and oranges shin- 
 ing among the glossy leaves of the trees, side by 
 side with silvery flowers. The dwarf apricots 
 and nectarines were still burdened with fruit. 
 
 When she saw the flowers her excitement 
 was unbounded. She laughed and cried at once. 
 Her cheeks Unshed, her eyes sparkled, hands 
 and feet were in incessant agitation. The pri- 
 mulas, the cyclamen, were in full, delicate bloom. 
 The wax-like camellias, white and crimson, were 
 in flower; chrysanthemums, screened from frost, 
 were in tufts of eveiy colour. The air was 
 scented with white Eoman hyacinths. 
 
 4 Oh ! ' cried Joanna, with hands uplifted, ' I 
 would that the Barbican and all the world would 
 sink into the ocean, and leave me alone here, 
 to be happy with the flowers, for ever.' 
 
 At that moment the door from the next, the
 
 LADY GRACE 279 
 
 orchid house, opened, and Lady Grace Eveleigh 
 appeared, dressed in silvery grey, with a quiet, 
 close bonnet on her head. She looked at the 
 excited girl with a sweet, confidence-inspiring 
 smile, and came forward. 
 
 ' Dear alive, my lady ! ' exclaimed Mrs. 
 Probus, ' I am a most unfortunate body to-day. 
 I took the liberty of taking this young woman 
 through the conservatories, without a thought 
 that your ladyship was here. I have been un- 
 fortunate, indeed, this afternoon.' 
 
 ' Not at all, not at all, Probus,' said Lady 
 Grace. ' I am always delighted that others 
 should enjoy our pretty flowers. You like 
 flowers,' she added, turning to Joanna, her voice 
 soft as the cooing of a dove. 
 
 ' I love them,' said the girl, clasping her 
 hands together. 
 
 ' What were you saying as I came in ? ' asked 
 Lady Grace. 
 
 Joanna answered, half laughing, half crying, 
 'I said that I wished the world would sink 
 under the sea and leave me alone with the 
 flowers.' 
 
 4 That was rather a selfish wish,' said Lady 
 Grace. ' Do you not care that others should 
 share your pleasure ? '
 
 280 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Ko, not at all,' answered Joanna bluntly. 
 
 6 Excuse her, my lady,' put in Mrs. Probus, 
 with a frightened look, ' she doesn't mean really 
 to differ from your ladyship ; she doesn't under- 
 stand what she says.' 
 
 ' I do ! hold your tongue,' said Joanna, turn- 
 ing sharply on the housekeeper. 
 
 ' Do not trouble yourself, dear Probus. 
 Whoever loves flowers has a kindred feeling 
 with me. I love them with all my heart.' 
 She looked at Joanna, who stood undecided 
 what to say or do. Then, turning to Mrs. Pro- 
 bus, she said, ' Will you do me a favour, and 
 yield your place to me, nurse ? Let me take 
 her round the houses. You do not know 
 the pleasure it gives me to show the flowers 
 to one who can feel towards them like my- 
 self.' 
 
 ' Very well, my lady,' said the old woman, 
 ' but you must not take it amiss — if this young 
 person ' 
 
 ' I shall take it greatly amiss,' interrupted 
 the lady, ' if she does not admire what I admire. 
 I can see in her bright eyes that she is happy 
 with my pets. Leave us alone together ; we 
 shall perfectly understand each other. We 
 flower fanciers have a language of our own,
 
 LADY GRACE 281 
 
 understandable among ourselves, sealed to out- 
 siders.' 
 
 When Mrs. Probus was gone, Lady Grace, 
 looking kindly into the girl's excited face, asked, 
 ' Will you tell me what is your name ? ' 
 
 ' Joanna.' 
 
 ' Joanna ! ' repeated Lady Grace. ' That 
 name is uncommon. It is pretty, very pretty, 
 and quaint. I like it.' 
 
 The girl flushed with pleasure and pride. 
 
 ' I am glad you like it,' she said ; ' I never 
 thought a button about my name before. Now 
 I shall like it.' 
 
 ' I hope you like Probus,' said the lady. 
 ' She was my nurse long, long ago. She used 
 to scold me a little and caress me a great deal.' 
 
 1 Please, my lady,' Joanna spoke timidly, 
 c may I go very, very slowly along, because all 
 this is so new and so beautiful that I cannot bear 
 to miss anything ? Mrs. Probus walked so fast, 
 and was afraid of staying long anywhere.' 
 
 4 1 will go as slow as you like, and stop as 
 long as suits you beside any flower. That is a 
 yellow primula ; look, under the leaves is white 
 flour, it comes off on your finger, and that gives 
 the plant its Latin name. It has a sweet scent. 
 Whence do you come from, Joanna ? '
 
 282 COURT ROYAL 
 
 The girl pointed downwards. 
 
 The questioner looked at her with surprise, 
 not understanding the significance of the indi- 
 cation. 
 
 < Out of the depths. Picked out of the mud 
 — true as my word unvarnished,' explained 
 Joanna. 
 
 'So is it with the water-lily,' said Lady 
 Grace, 6 one of the purest and most glorious of 
 flowers. Its roots are in the basest slime, its 
 flowers in the sunshine without soil. I am sure, 
 Joanna, you will grow up as the water-lily.' 
 
 The girl shook her head. ' You don't under- 
 stand. I am not a flower, but a grub.' 
 
 ' And the grub becomes a butterfly, that 
 soars far above the garbage on which it crawled 
 and fed.' 
 
 c I can never be a butterfly.' 
 
 ' You can rise.' 
 
 ' I am rising,' said Joanna firmly ; 'I intend 
 to rise. But you think your way, and I think 
 mine. You rise your way, which I cannot 
 understand or copy, and I rise mine as I may, 
 in whatever direction chance gives me an 
 opening.' 
 
 Lady Grace looked into the girl's face and 
 tried to decipher its language. She saw that
 
 LADY GRACE 283 
 
 the mind was full of intelligence, precociously 
 developed. She saw that ideas were working 
 which Joanna was powerless to express. The 
 girl misunderstood the intent look of the lady, 
 and said, ' I have made you angry. Everyone 
 here is taught to agree with you. I say what 
 I think. Whether it jumps or jars with the 
 opinions of others matters little to me.' 
 
 ' I like you to speak out of your heart freshly 
 what you think.' 
 
 4 Then,' said Joanna eagerly, c I think there 
 is not a flower in all this place so sweet and so 
 beautiful as you, lady.' 
 
 ' You must not say that.' Lady Grace 
 coloured. 
 
 'Why not? It is true.' 
 
 1 No, it is not true.' 
 
 ' 1 think it,' 
 
 8 Never mind. Do not speak such things. I 
 do not like them, and they will make me dis- 
 trust you.' 
 
 Both were silent for a few minutes, and then 
 Joanna said, ' How very, very happy you must 
 be here, my lady.' 
 
 6 Yes,' answered the lady, in her soft, sweet 
 voice, in which was a tone of sadness, ' I am 
 happy.'
 
 284 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Joanna noticed the omission. 
 
 ' Why do you not say very happy ? 
 
 6 I am indeed happy and thankful.' 
 
 Joanna now looked at her as intently as 
 Lady Grace had previously observed her. The 
 expression on Joanna's face was one of per- 
 plexity. At last she said, ' I don't understand, 
 and I can't understand.' 
 
 8 What, Joanna ? ' 
 
 4 My lady, you do not and you cannot un- 
 derstand me, and I do not, and try as I may I 
 cannot, understand yon. We belong to different 
 worlds.' 
 
 8 And are forgetting the bond between us — 
 the flowers.' 
 
 Presently Lady Grace pointed to an arcade, 
 where, against the wall, oranges, limes, and 
 citrons were growing. 
 
 8 Do you notice these trees ? ' she said ; ' they 
 are very ancient, one or two of them are as much 
 as two hundred years old.' 
 
 8 What a pity ! ' answered Joanna ; 8 they 
 must be worn out. You shoulcj stub them out 
 and plant new, improved sorts.' 
 
 Lady Grace went into the vinery, and 
 brought thence a large bunch of green Mn°
 
 LADY GKACE 285 
 
 cat el grapes on a leaf. She presented it, smil- 
 ing, to Joanna. 
 
 ' It is a pleasure,' she said, ' to have grapes 
 for the sick and those who have no vineries of 
 their own. They do enjoy them so greatly.' 
 
 ' Do you give grapes away ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, of course we do.' 
 
 'But you might sell them and make a lot 
 of money — enough to pay the gardener's wage.' 
 
 Lady Grace coloured and laughed. ' We 
 couldn't possibly do that.' 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 ' For one reason, because then we should 
 have no grapes to give away.' 
 
 ' But you are not obliged to give them 
 away ? ' 
 
 ' To the sick, of course we are.' 
 
 1 Why of course ? ' 
 
 ' Why, because they are sick.' 
 
 1 They should buy grapes for themselves if 
 they require them.' 
 
 ' They are poor, and cannot do so.' 
 
 ' Then let them do without. You are not 
 bound to them, nor they to you.' 
 
 Lady Grace, with a little sadness on her 
 brow, but a smile on her lips, said, observing 
 her, 'It is a pleasure to give them what they
 
 286 COURT ROYAL 
 
 cannot get themselves. There, it is a greater 
 pleasure to me to watch you enjoying that 
 bunch of Muscatel than if I were eating it 
 myself.' 
 
 Joanna shook her head. 6 We belong to 
 different worlds,' she said. ' If these green- 
 houses were mine I would keep everyone out 
 but myself, and I would spend my life in them, 
 looking at the flowers and eating the grapes.' 
 
 4 You would not spare me a bunch ? ' 
 
 4 1 would give you every tiling,' said Joanna 
 vehemently. 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 'Because I love you, and would want to 
 make you love me.' 
 
 ' You ought to love the sick, the suffering, 
 and the needy, and be ready to relieve them.' 
 
 ' They are nothing to me. They can do 
 nothing for me.' 
 
 ' We are all one family, tied together by com- 
 mon blood, bound by mutual duties, members 
 of one body ; and the hand cannot say to the 
 foot, " I have no need of you," nor the head to 
 the hand, " I have no need of you." 
 
 ' We are individuals,' answered Joanna. ' To 
 look out for self is the law of life and of progress. 
 I have heard Laz — I mean my late master — say
 
 LADY GRACE 287 
 
 that this it is which makes the United States so 
 great and prosperous, that every man lives as an 
 unit, cares nothing for his fellows, and beats his 
 way through and over all who stand in his path. 
 This it is which makes the old order fail, that 
 every man under it was entangled in responsi- 
 bilities to every man around him, above, below, 
 and on his level, and was not free. The old 
 order must give way to the new. That is what 
 my master said.' 
 
 4 1 do not like your theory, Joanna. It grates 
 with my notions of right and wrong.' 
 
 c I dare say not, my lady. You have been 
 reared under the old principle of social life, I 
 under the new. Each man for himself, my 
 master said, is the motto of the coming age, and 
 those who are hampered with the old doctrines 
 of mutual responsibilities must go down.' 
 
 ' You are a very extraordinary girl.' 
 
 ' No, my lady, I am not. I am merely the 
 child of the period, a representative of the com- 
 ing age ; there are thousands and ten of thou- 
 sands like me, trained in the same school. To 
 us belongs the future.' 
 
 Lady Grace Eveleigh sighed, and put her 
 hand to her brow, unconsciously. ' I have no 
 doubt you are right,' she said ; t I feel rather
 
 28 S COURT EOYAL 
 
 than see that it is so. Yes — perhaps it is well. 
 I do not know. I suppose I am prejudiced. I 
 like the old order best.' 
 
 Joanna was frightened. She had spoken 
 too boldly ; not insolently, but confidently. 
 She feared she had hurt her guide. When 
 Lady Grace put her hand to her brow, it was 
 as though she had received a blow. Joanna 
 touched her. 
 
 • Was I rude ? Have I pained you P I am 
 very, very sony. I would die rather than hurt 
 you.' She caught Lady Grace's hand and 
 kissed it. 
 
 ' Xo, not a bit,' answered the lady. ' It 
 does one £ood to know the truth. Sooner or 
 later it must be brought home to us, and rather 
 from your lips than from a ruder tongue. We 
 go on in a dream, with the poor always about 
 and with us, and will wake up with surprise to 
 find them above us. I hear my father and 
 uncles forecasting the future, with dismal faces ; 
 I did not expect to hear the same forecast ani- 
 mating the rising power. Do not let us talk 
 of that longer. Let us consider the flowers. 
 By the way, I suppose you will be at our 
 Christmas tenants' ball. We give one in the 
 winter to the farmers and their families, and to
 
 LADY GRACE 
 
 -.ants and their friend-. Of co 
 I 
 ' Oh, what a pity, what a pity, what a pity I ' 
 Lady Gb ice was unable to refrain a laugh 
 at the gi lamations and droll consterna- 
 
 tion. 
 
 • What is such a pity : ' she asked. 
 
 ' I was to have learned to dance, but my 
 corning here interfered with my lessons, so I 
 can only look on and not be able to tak 
 parr/ 
 
 • You shall have some lessons/ said Lady 
 :e Eveleigh, with a sweet, kind smile. -I 
 
 will see to that. Miss Worthivale will arrange 
 
 o 
 
 what times wiii suit best, and you shall be 
 taught by me. in my own room. Miss Worthi- 
 vale is so good and sweet that she will help me." 
 c Oh, thank you, thank you/ exclaimed 
 Joanna ; ; :hat is prime ! ' 
 
 • There is one thing more.' said the ladv ; 
 you are fond of flowers, I suppose y 
 
 must have something like a garden at home.' 
 4 1 have five pots — one cracked, and an old 
 without a spout.' 
 
 • What grow in them : ' 
 
 Fuchsias, Guernsey lilies, geranium, and 
 wild heath.' 
 
 * i. u
 
 290 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Will you accept this from me ? It is 
 nothing to look at now ; only a crowd of little 
 horns poking out of the earth ; but they will 
 expand in time into lilies of the valley, full of 
 beauty and fragrance. Keep them as a remem- 
 brance of me.' 
 
 'I will never, never part with them,' said 
 Jcanna. ' This is the second present I have 
 had to-day. Look here ! Your brother gave 
 me this.' She showed the porcelain cup and 
 saucer. 
 
 ' Lord Saltcombe gave you that ! What — 
 have you been talking to and astonishing him ? ' 
 
 6 Yes,' said the girl, ' I did astonish him a 
 bit. He gave me this ; but I like your flowers 
 best.' 
 
 ' I must leave you now ; I saw my father 
 return in the carriage.' Lady Grace hesitated 
 a moment, looked questioningly at Joanna, and 
 then touched her, drew her to her, and pressed 
 a light kiss on her brow. ' We are travellers 
 over one pass. Some ascend as others go 
 down ; as they meet and pass, they salute,' she 
 said, and slipped away.
 
 291 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW. 
 
 The Venerable the Archdeacon of Wellington, 
 Bachelor of Divinity, Canon of Glastonbury, 
 Sector of Sleepy Hollow, and Chaplain to his 
 Grace the Duke of Kingsbridge, was sitting in 
 his study with his wife one morning in Novem- 
 ber, discussing the list of poor people to whom 
 Christmas benefactions were to be given. 
 
 The Archdeacon regarded himself, and was 
 regarded, as a man of business. He was secre- 
 tary to several diocesan societies ; he was a stay 
 to the Kingsbridge family. Whenever a spasm 
 recurred in the financial condition of the Eve- 
 leighs, a telegram summoned him to South 
 Devon, and he spent some hours in consulta- 
 tion with the steward at Court Royal. When 
 he returned to Somersetshire he felt that his 
 presence had been of use. So it had on more 
 occasions than one, for he had advanced money 
 to relieve the strain. 
 
 v 2
 
 292 COURT ROYAL 
 
 ' Keally,' said Lady Elizabeth Eveleigli — 
 
 the Venerable the Archdeaconess, and Grey 
 
 Mare of Sleepy Hollow — ' I think we do a 
 great deal more than is necessary. There are 
 the coal club, and the clothing club, and the 
 blanket club, and the shoe club, and the Sun- 
 day school club, and the widows' alms, and the 
 three yards of flannel to every married woman 
 in the place, and the Christmas largess and the 
 Christmas beef. This comes very heavy. You 
 cannot put our charities at a less figure than 
 sixty pounds per annum ; then that great im- 
 posture, Queen Anne's Bounty, absorbs sixty 
 pounds more, and the rates come to eighty, 
 and the curate gets one hundred and twenty- 
 five. Church expenses amount to ten pounds ; 
 the living is worth three hundred and forty 
 pounds — that leaves us just five pounds on 
 which to keep house, pay five servants, and 
 entertain all the neighbourhood, subscribe to 
 every church restoration, and contribute to 
 every bazaar.' 
 
 4 My dear Elizabeth, I have my canonry.' 
 ' Worth eight hundred pounds, which goes 
 into that Goodwin Sand, the KiD^sbridge debt. 
 I know it does. Do not pull a face ; I know 
 it. I never finger the money.'
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW 293 
 
 6 Then there is my archdeaconry, worth two 
 hundred.' 
 
 1 Out of which we pay the servants and 
 keep the carriage. Edward, it is really too 
 bad ; you ought to have been a bishop.' 
 
 6 Elizabeth, how is that possible, with the 
 Liberals in power ? ' 
 
 ' I am sure that ought to be no hindrance 
 to your promotion. You have never offered an 
 opinion decidedly on any topic, political or 
 ecclesiastical, that could be objected to by any- 
 one. You have been most tolerant. Your 
 charities have been given indiscriminately to 
 Dissenters and Church people. You never 
 have taken a side. You have been scrupu- 
 lously via media.' 
 
 ' I do not want to be a bishop. I have not 
 the physical strength.' 
 
 4 1 do. A bishopric means a good deal 
 more than the four thousand set down in 
 " Whitaker " — it means getting a haul out of 
 Queen Anne, and some pickings, may be, from 
 the Ecclesiastical Commissioners.' 
 
 6 Let us return to the lists, Elizabeth. We 
 are considering Betty Perkins, not me.' 
 
 ' Betty Perkins puts me out of patience, 
 said the Venerable the Grey Mare. ' She has
 
 294 COURT ROYAL 
 
 only just paid into the clubs one lump sum. I 
 cannot see the good of clubs and rules, if she is 
 to be allowed to reap the benefit of the former 
 whilst violating the latter. She has sent in 
 four-and-fourpence for the coal club, four-and- 
 fourpence for the clothing club, four-and-four- 
 pence for the shoe club, four-and-fourpence for 
 the blanket club, and twenty-one shillings and 
 eightpence for her five children, who only at- 
 tend Sunday school now and then — -just before 
 the treat and the Christmas tree. I have her 
 money in my pocket now — listen how it rattles 
 — thirty-nine shillings in all. She will get her 
 cards with seventy-eight shillings on them, just 
 thirty-nine shillings allowed her for putting in 
 her money to-day, to receive it out with inte- 
 rest to-morrow. It is preposterous. I believe 
 she borrowed the sum for the occasion. I 
 refuse to be treasurer and secretary to the 
 charitable clubs if you wink at such flagrant 
 cases.' 
 
 ' My dear Elizabeth, there is no one else in 
 the parish capable of managing the clubs. As 
 to Betty Perkins, consider how poor she is, 
 with a husband irfven to drink, and five child- 
 ren.' 
 
 ' Eules are rules,' said Lady Elizabeth.
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW 295 
 
 1 Yes, my dear, but justice must be tempered 
 with mercy.' 
 
 ' I do not think the clubs and alms do good 
 The people take what is given them as a right. 
 They are not grateful, they do not come to 
 church a bit the better for being bribed at the 
 rate of five pounds per house to come.' 
 
 ' We cannot give up the clubs, Elizabeth. 
 They really are a great comfort to the people.' 
 
 4 You pauperise them, Edward. Well ? ' to 
 the man-servant who appeared at the door ; 
 ' what is it, Thomas? ' 
 
 ' Please, my lady, there is a gentleman in 
 the drawing-room who wants to see his lord- 
 ship.' 
 
 'Let me look at the card,' said the Arch- 
 deaconess. ( Eigsby ! Eigsby — I do not know 
 the name. Some traveller for a wine merchant, 
 I suppose.' 
 
 1 Bless me ! ' exclaimed Lord Edward Eve- 
 lei gh, when, by his wife's kind permission, 
 he was allowed to look at the card ; ' my 
 old college friend Eigsby. I thought he was 
 in Ceylon, coffee-growing. I heard he had 
 realised a great fortune. Excuse me, my dear 
 Elizabeth. Settle Betty Perkins as you like — 
 that is, no, let her off this time, and I will have
 
 296 COURT ROYAL 
 
 a talk with her. She will be more regular 
 next year. Elizabeth, I must ask Rigsby to 
 lunch.' 
 
 ; There is cold mutton and mince,' answered 
 Ladv Elizabeth-. ' Also tapioca pudding.' 
 
 ' I haven't seen Rigsby for forty years — no, 
 not for forty years. I must insist on his paying 
 us a visit. You can manage it, Elizabeth P ' 
 
 4 The sheets in the best bedroom are aired.' 
 
 The Archdeacon hastened into the parlour, 
 where he found a tall brown man, with grey 
 hair, seated, awaiting him. 
 
 1 1 am so glad — so delighted to see you 
 again,' said Lord Edward, extending both hands. 
 
 ' I have come,' said Mr. Eigsby, 4 on my 
 daughter's account. "We have been visiting 
 Glastonbury, and she has been taken ill there, 
 whether with neuralgia or toothache it is not for 
 me to determine. She is a sad sufferer — and I 
 thought, being in a strange place, that I might 
 venture on calling, trusting you might not have 
 quite forgotten me ' 
 
 1 My dear Eigsby ' interrupted the Arch- 
 deacon, with overflowing cordiality. 
 
 8 Excuse me,' said the visitor, putting up his 
 hand to stop him, ' I will say what I desire first, 
 and then shall be thankful for vour remarks on
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW 297 
 
 it. I was observing that I relied on your kind- 
 ness, which I well remembered, to help me 
 with your advice. I am a stranger in Glaston- 
 bury, indeed a stranger in England. You have 
 a local dentist here — that is, at Glastonbury. I 
 want to know ' 
 
 ' Yigurs is the man for you,' said Lord 
 Edward. 
 
 6 One moment, and I have done,' continued 
 Mr. Eigsby, looking with impatience at the 
 Archdeacon. 1 1 have no confidence, myself, 
 in local practitioners ; if there be real genius it 
 will unquestionably gravitate to town, and the 
 dregs of the profession be left in the country.' 
 
 ' 1 beg your pardon ' 
 
 ' You will allow me to finish what I was 
 saying/ Eigsby looked Lord Edward down. 
 8 One hears atrocious stories of the misdeeds of 
 these men — breaking jaws, drawing the wrong 
 teeth, and so on. I could not suffer Dulcina to 
 run such a risk unless I were perfectly satisfied 
 that the man was really first-rate.' 
 
 4 Yigurs is a splendid fellow ; a thorough 
 Churchman, and always stays 
 
 ' Excuse me if I say that this is neither here 
 nor there. I do not care a snap for the religion 
 and politics of Mr. Yigurs, but I do care for his
 
 298 COURT ROYAL 
 
 being a first-class dentist. It is a long way to 
 town, and Dulcina's sufferings are so intense 
 that I am inclined to place my sweet child in 
 the hands of a man, even if in the country, 
 if he may be trusted. I suppose that in Bath 
 or in Bristol a dentist of some experience and 
 
 i intelligence ' 
 
 ' I can assure you ' 
 
 ' I shall have done directly. I was observ- 
 ing, when interrupted, that in Bath or Bristol a 
 dentist of experience may be found, but that 
 would entail a journey to Bath or Bristol. 
 Dulcina, poor child, is so prostrated by her 
 pains last night that I hardly like to move her 
 so far. If you saw the sweet flower, you would 
 say the same — so fragile, so fair, so languishing.' 
 
 ' You may rely on Vigurs,' said the Arch- 
 deacon. ' He has drawn many of my teeth and 
 stopped others. Vigurs is quite a first-rate man.' 
 
 ' If the tooth be drawn, ether or nitrous 
 oxide must be used. Can I trust this man to 
 employ such means ? My child's life is too 
 precious to be played with. She is my only 
 child, heiress to all the fortune I have toiled for 
 forty years to gain. She will be worth ten 
 thousand a year after I am gone. Judge if the 
 world can do without one so gifted. As for
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW 299 
 
 me, I live only for Dulcina, Were she to 
 expire under nitrous oxide I should blow out 
 my brains.' 
 
 ' Have perfect confidence in Vigurs. He is 
 a man of note. This neighbourhood is well 
 peopled with county families, and they all go 
 to Vigurs in preference to London dentists. 
 Where is your daughter now ? ' 
 
 'She is at the White Hart. Miss Stokes, 
 her aunt, is with her. She has administered 
 soothing drops, and Dulcina is asleep. Poor 
 soul, she needs repose after the torture of 
 toothache or neuralgia. I do not pretend to 
 determine which it is, but she has a carious 
 molar. I have seen it. You are positive that 
 Mr. Vigurs may be allowed to look at my 
 daughter's jaw ? ' 
 
 ' Positive. First-rate man, gentle as a lamb 
 with ladies. Now Eigsby, as your daughter is 
 asleep, spare me a few minutes to tell me some- 
 thing about yourself. You look well burnt like 
 a coffee berry, but hearty — more so than my- 
 self, who am but a creaking gate. Have you 
 definitely left Ceylon ? ' 
 
 6 Yes ; Dulcina and I came here to look at a 
 house and park that is for sale. Dulcina and I 
 intend to settle in the country. I have sold my
 
 CM ROYAL 
 
 - jylon, providentially before the coffee 
 
 -e invaded the island, so that I sold them 
 
 well, and the purchaser, not L has been ruined, 
 
 for which I cannot be too thankful. We like 
 
 . \nd this part of the country, 
 rich, well wooded, and there seem to be many 
 gentlemen's seats bout I cann that 
 
 Shotley Park is quite to our taste, but we will 
 think over it, and discuss it together when 
 Dulcina's tooth ses stract her. Poor 
 
 dear, she can srive her attention to nothing now 
 
 _ 
 
 but her tooth and the nerve that runs up into 
 the head across the cheek from the jV 
 
 • Will vou take anvthi: _ 
 
 • I should not object to a glass of s md 
 a biscuit Xervousness about my daughter has 
 rather shaken me.' 
 
 • Now look here, Bigsby. I will not hear of 
 vour _- at the White Hart. Y 
 positively come to my house and stay a fort- 
 night. Under that time I will not let you 
 off: stay over it as long 
 
 ; Thi!ik you. I do not mind if I accept. 
 
 If anything has to be done to my dear Dulcinas 
 
 jaw, it would be more satisfactory to be in your 
 
 jry than in an inn. One cannot secure all 
 
 the comforts requisite for an invalid at an hotel.
 
 SLEEPY HOLLOW 301 
 
 Should the tooth be extracted or the n 
 destroyed, my daughter will be so shattered 
 that further travel will be impossible for some 
 days. The people at the White Hart are good 
 
 kin i ; still an inn is not a place for ape: 
 with a carious tooth. Dulcina is made uncomfort- 
 able by the scream of the engines. Glastonbury 
 is a terminus, and every :,gine that comes in 
 shrieks to announce its arrival, and every one 
 that leaves shrieks to proclaim its departure. 
 Dulcinaa nerves are in that quivering state of 
 irritation that the least noise upsets her.' 
 
 'SI ah 11 come here at once ill send 
 
 rri _ ;- 
 
 • We will come in the afternoon. I must go 
 and see the dentist myself. I shall be able to 
 judge by his looks whether he is intelligent — 
 as for his experience, of that I cannot form an 
 opinion. Has studied in America! 
 
 ikees are far ahead of us in dentistry. They 
 trail- Beth as we do trees. 5 
 
 • Wi nt.' -..;.. :Lc A:; ; .. . ; a : 'I 
 will fel a Lady Elizabeth ' 
 
 He ra:i o;;t o: :::e roe:::. a::l - 
 still engaged over the club accounts 
 
 •My dt she, • I will meet 
 
 your wishes 1 ; I can do no more.
 
 302 COURT ROYAL 
 
 Betty Perkins shall have two-and- twopence 
 instead of four-and-fourpence in each club.' 
 
 4 Elizabeth,' exclaimed the Archdeacon, 
 ' come into the drawing-room and see Kigsby. 
 But stay — first give me the telegraph forms ; I 
 must send off at once for Saltcombe.' 
 ' Why so ? What has occurred ? ' 
 ' My dear Elizabeth, Rigsby has an only 
 daughter, worth ten thousand a year. That 
 represents about two hundred and. fifty to three 
 hundred thousand pounds. Oh, Elizabeth ! if 
 only some of the Kingsbridge estates might be 
 cleared with this sum, how happy we should all 
 be!' 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
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