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COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C 
 
 A TALE OF COUNTRY LIFE, 
 
 BY 
 
 H. RIDER HAGGARD 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. - 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. 
 
 1888. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
KEM-y AND CO., GAl'l-: STKK1<;T, LINCOLN'S INN FlKliDS. W.C. 
 ANU MU)1)LI<: MILL, KINGSTON-ON-TU AMliS. 
 
8£5 
 
 V. 1 
 
 ^ pcbicafc 
 THIS TALE OF COUNTRY LIFE 
 
 TO 
 MY FRIEND AND FELLOW - SPORTS>L\N, 
 
 CHARLES J. LONGMAN. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP PARE 
 
 I.— Harold Quaritch meditates . . . i 
 
 II.— The Colonel meets the Squire . . i8 
 
 III.— The Tale of Sir James de la Molle . 34 
 
 IV. — The End of the Tale .... 56 
 
 v.— The Squire explains the Position . 73 
 
 VI. — Lawyer Quest 93 
 
 VII.— Edward Cossey, Esqre 107 
 
 VIII.— Mr. QUEST'S Wife 122 
 
 IX.— The Shadow of Ruin 137 
 
 X.— The Tennis Party 161 
 
 XL — Ida's Bargain 178 
 
 XII.— George prophesies 196 
 
 XI 11. — About Art 217 
 
 XIV.— The Tiger shows her Claws . . 235 
 
COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C, 
 
 A TALE OF COUNTRY LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 
 
 There are things and there are faces 
 which, when felt or seen for the first time, 
 stamp themselves upon the mind like a sun 
 image on a sensitized plate and there re- 
 main unalterably fixed. To take the instance 
 of a face — we may never see it again, or 
 it may become the companion of our life, 
 but there the picture is just as we first 
 knew it, the same smile or frown, the same 
 look, unvarying and unvariable, reminding 
 us in the midst of change of the inde- 
 structible nature of every experience, act, 
 and aspect of our days. For that which 
 
 VOL. I: I 
 
2 COLONEL QUA R ITCH, V.C. 
 
 has been, is, since the past knows no cor- 
 ruption, but Hves eternally in its frozen 
 and completed self. 
 
 These are somewhat large thoughts to be 
 born of a small matter, but they rose up 
 spontaneously in the mind of a soldierly- 
 looking man who, on the particular even- 
 ing when this history opens, was leaning 
 over a gate in an Eastern county lane, 
 staring vacantly at a field of ripe corn. 
 
 He was a peculiar and rather battered 
 looking individual, apparently over forty 
 years of age, and yet bearing upon him 
 that unmistakable stamp of dignity and 
 self-respect which, if it does not exclusively 
 belong to, is still one of the distinguishing 
 attributes of the English gentleman. In 
 face he was ugly, no other word can ex- 
 press it. Here were not the long mus- 
 tachios, the almond eyes, the aristocratic 
 air of the Colonel of fiction — for our 
 dreamer was a Colonel. These were — 
 alas! that the truth should be so plain—- 
 
HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 3 
 
 represented by somewhat scrubby, sandy- 
 coloured whiskers, small but kindly blue 
 eyes, a low broad forehead, with a deep 
 line running across it from side to side, 
 something like that to be seen upon the 
 busts of Julius Caesar, and a long thin nose. 
 One good feature, however, he did 
 possess, a mouth of such sweetness and 
 beauty that set, as it was, above a very 
 square and manly-looking chin, it had the 
 air of being ludicrously out of place. 
 '' Umph," said his old aunt, Mrs. Massey 
 (who had just died and lefc him what she 
 possessed), on the occasion of her first intro- 
 duction to him five-and-thirty years before, 
 " Umph ! Nature meant to make a pretty 
 girl of you, and changed her mind after 
 she had finished the mouth. Well, never 
 mind, better be a plain man than a pretty 
 woman. There, go along, boy ! — I like your 
 ugly face." 
 
 Nor was the old lady peculiar in this 
 respect, for plain as the countenance of 
 
 I — 2 
 
4 COLONEL QUA R ITCH, V.C. 
 
 Colonel Harold Quarltch undoubtedly was, 
 people found something very taking about 
 it, when once they became accustomed to its 
 rugged air and stern regulated expression. 
 What that something was It would be hard 
 to define, but perhaps the nearest approach 
 to the truth would be to describe it as a 
 light of purity which, notwithstanding the 
 popular idea to the contrary, is quite as 
 often to be found upon the faces of men 
 as upon those of women. Any person of 
 discernment looking on Colonel Quarltch 
 must have felt that he was In the presence 
 of a good man — not a prig or a milksop, 
 but a man who had attained to virtue by 
 thought and struggle that had left their 
 marks upon him ; a man whom It would 
 not be well to tamper with, one to be 
 respected by all, and feared of evildoers. 
 Men felt this, and he was popular among 
 those who knew him In his service, though 
 not In any hail-fellow-well-met kind of way. 
 But among women he was not popular. 
 
HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 5 
 
 As a rule they both feared and dishked 
 him. His presence jarred upon the 
 frivoHty of the lighter members of their 
 sex, who dimly realised that his nature 
 was antagonistic, and the more solid ones 
 could not understand him. Perhaps this 
 was the reason why Colonel Ouaritch had 
 never married, had never even had a love 
 affair since he was five-and-twenty. 
 
 And yet it was of a woman that he 
 was thinking as he leant over the gate, 
 and looked at the field of yellowing corn, 
 undulating like a golden sea beneath the 
 pressure of the wind. 
 
 Colonel Quaritch had twice before been 
 at Honham, once ten, and once four years 
 ago. Now he was come to abide there for 
 good. His old aunt, Mrs. Massey, had 
 owned a place in the village — a very small 
 place — called Honham Cottage, or Molehill, 
 and on those two occasions he visited her. 
 Mrs. Massey was dead and buried. She 
 had left him the property, and with some 
 
6 COLONEL QUAKJTCJ/, V.C. 
 
 reluctance he had given up his profession, 
 in which he saw no further prospects, and 
 come to live upon it. This was his first 
 evening in the place, for he had arrived by 
 the last train on the previous night. All 
 day he had been busy trying to get the 
 house a little straight, and now, thoroughly 
 tired, he w^as refreshing himself by leaning 
 over a gate. It is, though a great many 
 people will not believe it, one of the most 
 delightful, and certainly one of the cheapest, 
 refreshments in the world. 
 
 And then it was, as he leant over the 
 gate, that the image of a woman's face rose 
 before his mind as it had continually risen 
 during the last five years. Five years had 
 gone since he saw it, and those five years he 
 spent in India and Egypt, that is with the 
 exception of six months which he passed in 
 hospital^ — the upshot of an Arab spear thrust 
 in the thigh. 
 
 It had risen before him in all sorts of 
 places and at all sorts of times ; in his 
 
HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 7 
 
 sleep, in his waking moments, at mess, out 
 shooting, and even once in the hot rush of 
 battle. He remembered it well — it was at 
 El Teb. It happened that stern necessity 
 forced him to shoot a man with h's 
 pistol. The bullet cut through his enemy, 
 and with a few convulsions he died. He 
 watched him die, he could not help doing 
 so, there was some fascination in following 
 the act of his own hand to its dreadful 
 conclusion, and indeed conclusion and com- 
 mencement were very near together. The 
 terror of the sight, the terror of what in 
 defence of his own life he was forced to 
 do, revolted him even in the heat of the 
 fight, and even then, over that ghastly 
 and distorted face, another face spread 
 itself like a mask, blotting it out from view 
 — that woman's face. And now again it 
 re-arose, inspiring him with the rather 
 recondite reflections as to the immutability 
 of things and impressions with which this 
 domestic record opens. 
 
8 COLOyEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Five years is a good stretch In a man's 
 journey through the world. Many things 
 happen to us in that time. If a thoughtful 
 person were to set to work to record all the 
 impressions which impinge upon his mind 
 during that period, he would fill a library 
 with volumes, the mere tale of its events 
 would furnish a shelf. And yet how small 
 they are to look back upon. It seemed 
 but the other day that he was leaning 
 over this very gate, and had turned to see 
 a young girl dressed in black, who, with a 
 spray of honeysuckle thrust in her girdle, 
 and carrying a stick in her hand, was walk- 
 ing leisurely down the lane. 
 
 There was something about the girl's air 
 that had struck him while she was yet a 
 long way off — a dignity, a grace, and a 
 set of the shoulders. Then as she came 
 nearer he saw the soft dark eyes and the 
 waving brown hair that contrasted so 
 strangely and effectively with the pale and 
 striking features. It was not a beautiful face, 
 
HAROLD OUARITCH MEDITATES. 9 
 
 for the mouth was too large, and the nose 
 was not as straight as it might have been, 
 but there was a power about the broad 
 brow, and a force and soKd nobiHty stamped 
 upon the features which had impressed him 
 strangely. Just as she came opposite to 
 where he was standing, a gust of wind, 
 for there was a stiff breeze, blew the lady's 
 hat off, taking it over the hedge, and 
 he, as in duty bound, scrambled into the 
 field and fetched it for her, and she had 
 thanked him v»-ith a quick smile and a 
 lighting up of the brown eyes, and then 
 passed on with a bovv*. 
 
 Yes, with a little bow she had passed on, 
 and he watched her walking down the long 
 level drift, till her image melted into the 
 stormy sunset light, and was gone. When 
 he returned to the cottage he had described 
 her to his old aunt, and asked who she 
 might be, to learn that she was Ida de 
 Li Molle (which sounded like a name out 
 of a novel), the only daughter of the old 
 
lo COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 squire who lived at Honham Castle. Next 
 clay he had left for India, and saw Miss 
 de la Molle no more. 
 
 And now he wondered what had be- 
 come of her. Probably she was married ; 
 so striking a person would be almost sure 
 to attract the notice of men. And after all 
 what could it matter to him ? He was 
 not a marrying man, and women as a class 
 had little attraction for him ; Indeed he 
 disliked them. It has been said that he 
 had never married, and never even had a 
 love affair since he was five-and-twenty. 
 But though he was not married, he once 
 — before he was five-and-twenty, very nearly 
 took that step. It was twenty years ago 
 now, and nobody quite knew the history, 
 for in twenty years many things are 
 fortunately forgotten. But there was a 
 history, and a scandal, and the mar- 
 riage was broken off almost on the day 
 It should have taken place. And after 
 that it leaked out in the neighbourhood 
 
HAROLD OUARITCH MED IT A TES. i r 
 
 that the young lady, who by the way was 
 a considerable heiress, had gone off her 
 head, presumably with grief, and been con- 
 fined in an asylum, where she was believed 
 still to remain. 
 
 Perhaps it was the thought of this one 
 woman's face, the woman he had once 
 seen walking down the drift, her figure 
 limned out against the stormy sky, that 
 led him to think of the other face, the 
 face hidden in the madhouse. At any rate, 
 with a sigh, or rather a groan, he swung 
 himself round from the gate and began 
 to walk homeward at a brisk pace. 
 
 The drift that he was following is 
 known as the mile drift, and had in 
 ancient times formed the approach to the 
 gates of Honham Castle, the seat of the 
 ancient and honourable family of de la 
 Molle (sometimes written ''Delamol" in 
 history and old writings). Honham Casde 
 was now nothing but a ruin, with a manor 
 house built out of the wreck on one side 
 
12 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 of Its square, and the broad way that led 
 to it from the high road which ran from 
 Boisingham,* the local country town, was 
 a drift or grass lane. 
 
 Colonel Quaritch followed this drift till 
 he came to the high road, and then 
 turned. A few minutes' walk brought him 
 to a drive opening out of the main road 
 on the left as he faced towards Boising- 
 ham. This drive, which was some three 
 hundred yards long, led up a rather sharp 
 slope to his own place, Honham Cottage, 
 or Molehill, as the villagers called it, a 
 title calculated to give a keen impres- 
 sion of a neat spick and span red brick 
 villa with a slate roof In fact, how- 
 ever, it was nothing of the sort, being 
 a building of the fifteenth century, as a 
 
 * Said to have been so named after the Boissey family, 
 whose heiress a de la Molle married in the fourteenth 
 century. As, however, the town of Boisingham is mentioned 
 by one of the old chroniclers, this does not seem very 
 probable. No doubt the family took their name from the 
 town or hamlet, not the town from the family. 
 
HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 13 
 
 glance at its massive flint walls was 
 sufficient to show. In ancient times there 
 had been a large Abbey at Boisingham, 
 two miles away, which, the records tell, 
 suffered terribly from an outbreak of the 
 plague in the fifteenth century. After this 
 the monks obtained ten acres of land, known 
 as Molehill, by grant from the de la Molle 
 of the day, and so named either on account 
 of their resemblance to a molehill (of 
 which more presently, or after the family. 
 On this elevated spot, which was supposed 
 to be peculiarly healthy, they built the little 
 house now called Honham Cottage, whereto 
 to fly when next the plague should visit 
 them. 
 
 And as they built it, so, with some 
 slight additions, it had remained to this 
 day, for in those ages men did not skimp 
 their flint, and oak, and mortar. It was 
 a beautiful little spot, situated upon the 
 flat top of a swelling hill, which comprised 
 the ten acres of grazing ground originally 
 
14 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. • 
 
 granted, and was, strange to say, still 
 the most magnificently-timbered piece of 
 ground in the country side. For on the 
 ten acres of grass land there stood over 
 fifty great oaks, some of them pollards of 
 the most enormous antiquity, and others 
 which had no doubt originally grown 
 very close together, fine upstanding trees 
 with a wonderful length and girth of bole. 
 This place Colonel Ouaritch's aunt, old 
 Mrs. Massey, had bought nearly thirty 
 years before when she became a widow, 
 and now, together with a modest income 
 of two hundred a year, it had passed to 
 him under her will. 
 
 Shaking himself clear of his sad 
 thoughts, Harold Ouaritch turned round 
 at his own front door to contemplate the 
 scene. The long, single-storied house stood, 
 it has been said, at the top of the rising- 
 land, and to the south and west and east 
 commanded as beautiful a view as is to be 
 seen in the county. There, a mile or so 
 
HAROLD Q UARITCH MED IT A TES. 1 5 
 
 away to the south, situated In the midst of 
 grassy grazing grounds, and flanked on either 
 side by still perfect towers, frowned the 
 massive gateway of the old Norman castle. 
 Then, to the west, almost at the foot of 
 Molehill, the ground broke away In a deep 
 bank clothed with timber, which led the 
 eye down by slow descents Into the beau- 
 tiful valley of the Ell. Here the silver 
 river wound Its gentle way through lush 
 and poplar-bordered marshes, where the 
 cattle stand knee-deep In flowers ; past 
 quaint wooden mill-houses, through Bolslng- 
 ham Old Common, windy looking even 
 now, and brightened here and there with a 
 dash of golden gorse, till It was lost beneath 
 the picturesque cluster of red-tiled roofs that 
 marked the ancient town. Look which way 
 he would, the view was lovely, and equal to 
 any to be found In the Eastern counties, 
 where the scenery Is fine enough m Its 
 own way, whatever people may choose to 
 say to the contrary whose Imaginations 
 
i6 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 are so weak that they require a mountain 
 and a torrent to excite them Into activity. 
 
 Behind the house to the north there was 
 no view, and for a good reason, for here in 
 the very middle of the back garden rose a 
 mound of kirge size and curious shape, 
 which completely shut out the landscape. 
 What this mound, which may perhaps have 
 covered half an acre of ground, was, nobody 
 had any idea. Some learned folk wrote it 
 down a Saxon tumulus, a presumption to 
 which its ancient name, '' Dead Man's 
 Mount," seemed to give colour. Other folk, 
 however, yet more learned, declared it to 
 be an ancient British dwelling, and pointed 
 triumphantly to a hollow at the top, wherein 
 the ancient Britishers were supposed to 
 have moved, lived, and had their being — • 
 which must, urged the opposing party, have 
 been a very damp one. Thereon the late 
 Mrs. Massey, who was a British dwellingite, 
 proceeded to show with much triumph how 
 they had liyed in the hole by building a 
 
HAROLD QUARITCH MEDITATES. 17 
 
 huge mushroom-shaped roof over it, and 
 thereby turning it into a summer-house, 
 which, owing to unexpected difficulties in 
 the construction of the roof, cost a great 
 deal of money. But as the roof was slated, 
 and as it was found necessary to pave the 
 hollow with tiles and cut surface drains in it, 
 the result did not clearly prove its use as a 
 dwelling-place before the Roman conquest. 
 Nor did it make a very good summer-house. 
 Indeed, it now served as a store place for 
 the gardeners' tools and for rubbish 
 generally. 
 
 ,(? <^^-3?-'\ 9 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE COLONEL ^lEETS THE SQUIRE. 
 
 As Colonel Ouarltch was contemplating 
 these various views and reflecting that on 
 the whole he had done well to come and 
 Kve at Honham Cottage, he was suddenly 
 startled by a loud voice saluting him from 
 about twenty yards distance with such 
 peculiar vigour that he fairly jumped. 
 
 ''Colonel Ouaritch, I believe," said, or 
 rather shouted, the voice from somewhere 
 down the drive. 
 
 "Yes," answered the Colonel, mildly, 
 *' here I am." 
 
 " Ah, I thought it was you. Always tell 
 a military man, you know. Excuse me, 
 but I am resting for a minute, this last 
 pull is an uncommonly stiff one. I always 
 used to tell my dear old friend, Mrs. 
 
THE COLONEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 19 
 
 Massey, that she ought to have the hill 
 cut away a bit just here. Well, here 
 goes for it," and after a few heavy steps 
 his visitor emerged from the shadow 
 of the trees into the sunset light which 
 was playing on the terrace before the 
 house. 
 
 Colonel Quarltch glanced up curiously 
 to see who the owner of the great voice 
 might be, and his eyes lit upon as fine a 
 specimen of humanity as he had seen for 
 a long while. The man was old, as his 
 whit3 hair showed, seventy perhaps, but 
 that was the only sign of decay about him. 
 He was a splendid man, broad and thick 
 and strong, with a keen, quick eye, and a 
 face sharply chiselled, and clean shaved, 
 of the stamp which in novels is generally 
 known as aristocratic, a face, in fact, that 
 showed both birth and breeding. Indeed, 
 as clothed in loose tweed garments and 
 a gigantic pair of top boots, his visitor 
 stood, leaning on his long stick and rest- 
 
 2 — 2 
 
20 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 ing himself after facing the hill, Harold 
 Quarltch thought that he had never seen 
 a more perfect specimen of the typical 
 English country gentleman — as the English 
 country gentleman used to be. 
 
 *' How do you do, sir, how do you do — 
 my name is de la Molle. My man George, 
 who knows everybody's business except 
 his own, told me that you had arrived 
 here, so I thought I would walk round 
 and do myself the honour of making your 
 acquaintance." 
 
 *' That is very kind of you," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 ** Not at all. If you only knew how un- 
 commonly dull it is down in these parts you 
 would not say that. The place isn't what it 
 used to be when I was a boy. There are 
 plenty of rich people about, but they are 
 not the same stamp of people. It isn't what 
 it used to be in more ways than one," and 
 the old Squire gave something like a sigh, 
 and thoughtfully removed his white hat, out 
 
THE COLONEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 21 
 
 of which a dinner napkin and two pocket- 
 handkerchiefs fell to the ground, in a 
 fashion that reminded Colonel Quaritch of 
 the climax of a conjuring trick. 
 
 "You have dropped some — some linen," 
 he said, stooping down to pick the mys- 
 terious articles up. 
 
 " Oh, yes, thank you," answered his 
 visitor, " I find the sun a little hot at this 
 time of the year. There is nothing like 
 a few handkerchiefs or a towel to keep it 
 off," and he rolled the mass of napery 
 into a ball, and cramming it back into the 
 crown, replaced the hat on his head in 
 such a fashion that about eight inches of 
 white napkin hung down behind. '' You 
 must have felt it in Egypt," he went on — 
 '' the sun I mean. It's a bad climate, 
 that Egypt, as I have good reason to 
 know," and he pointed again to his white 
 hat, which Harold Quaritch now observed 
 for the first time was encircled by a broad 
 black band. 
 
22 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 " Ah, I see," he said, '* I suppose that 
 you have had a loss." 
 
 **Yes, sir, a very heavy loss.'* 
 
 Now Colonel Quarltch had never heard 
 that Mr. de la Molle had more than one 
 child, Ida de la Molle, the young lady 
 vi^hose face remained so strongly fixed in 
 his memory, although he had scarcely 
 spoken to her on that one occasion five 
 long years ago. Could it be possible that 
 she had died in Egypt ? The idea sent a 
 tremor of fear through him, thouQ^h of 
 course there was no real reason why it 
 should. Deaths are so common. 
 
 *' Not— not Miss de la Molle .^ " he said 
 nervously, adding, '' I had the pleasure of 
 seeing her once, a good many years ago, 
 w^hen I was stopping here for a few days 
 with my aunt." 
 
 *' Oh, no, not Ida, she is alive and 
 well, thank God. Her brother James. 
 He went all through that wretched war 
 which we owe to Mr. Gladstone, as I 
 
THE COLO X EL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 23 
 
 say, though I don't know what your 
 politics are, and then caught a fever, or 
 as I think got touched by the sun, and 
 died on his w^ay home. Poor boy! He 
 was a fine fellow. Colonel Ouarltch, and 
 my only son, but very reckless. Only a 
 month or so before he died, I wrote to 
 him to be careful always to put a towel 
 In his helmet, and he answered. In that 
 flippant sort of way he had, that he 
 was not going to turn himself into a dirty 
 clothes bao-, and that he rather liked the 
 heat than otherwise. Well, he's gone, 
 poor fellow, in the service of his country, 
 like many of his ancestors before him, and 
 there's an end of him." 
 
 And again the old man sighed, heavily 
 this time. 
 
 *' And now, Colonel Ouarltch," he went 
 on, shaking off his oppression with a 
 curious rapidity, that was characteristic of 
 him, ''what do you say to coming up to 
 the Castle for your dinner ? You must 
 
24 COLONEL OUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 be in a mess here, and I expect that old 
 Mrs. Jobson, whom my man George tells 
 mc you have got to look after you, will 
 be glad enough to be rid of you for to- 
 night. What do you say ? — take the place 
 as you find it, you know. I believe that 
 there is a leg of mutton for dinner if there 
 is nothing else, because instead of minding 
 his own business I saw George going off 
 to Boisingham to fetch it this morning. 
 At least, that is what he said he was 
 going for; just an excuse to gossip and 
 idle, I fancy." 
 
 ''Well, really," said the Colonel, ''you 
 are very kind ; but I don't think that 
 my dress clothes are unpacked yet." 
 
 " Dress clothes ! Oh, never mind your 
 dress clothes. Ida will excuse you, I 
 daresay. Besides, you have no time to 
 dress. By Jove, it's nearly seven o'clock ; 
 we must be off if you are coming." 
 
 The Colonel hesitated. He had in- 
 tended to dine at home, and being a 
 
THE COLOXEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 25 
 
 methodical-minded man did not like alter- 
 ing his plans. x-\lso, he was, like most 
 military men, very punctilious about his 
 dress and personal appearance, and ob- 
 jected to going out to dinner in a 
 shootine coat. But all this notwithstand- 
 ing, a feeling that he did not quite under- 
 stand, and which it would have puzzled even 
 an American novelist to analyse — some- 
 thing between restlessness and curiositv, 
 with a dash of magnetic attraction thrown 
 in — got the better of his scruples, and he 
 accepted. 
 
 ''Well, thank you," he said, "if you 
 are sure that Miss de la ^lolle will not 
 mind, I will come. Just allow me to tell 
 Mrs. Jobson." 
 
 '' That's right," halloaed the Squire 
 after him, ''I'll meet you at the back of 
 the house. We had better go through 
 the fields." 
 
 By the time that the Colonel, having 
 informed his housekeeper that he should 
 
26 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 not want any dinner, and hastily brushed 
 his not too luxuriant locks, had reached 
 the garden which lay behind the house, the 
 Squire was nowhere to be seen. Presently, 
 however, a loud halloa from the top of 
 the tumulus-like hill announced his where- 
 abouts. 
 
 Wondering what the old gentleman 
 could be doing there, Harold Quaritch 
 walked up the steps that led to the summit 
 of the mound, and found him standing at 
 the entrance to the mushroom-shaped 
 summer-house, contemplating the view. 
 
 " There, Colonel," he said, '' there's a 
 perfect view for you. Talk about Scot- 
 land and the Alps ! Give me a view of 
 the valley of Ell from the top of Dead 
 Man's Mount on an autumn evening, and 
 I never want to see anything finer. I 
 have always loved it from a boy, and 
 always shall so long as I live — look at 
 those oaks, too. There are no such trees 
 in the county that I know of The old 
 
THE COLOXEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 27 
 
 lady, your aunt, was wonderfully fond of 
 them. I hope — " he went on in a tone 
 of anxiety — " I hope that you don't mean 
 to cut any of them down." 
 
 '' Oh no," said the Colonel, " I should 
 never think of such a thino-." 
 
 o 
 
 " That's right. Never cut down a 
 good tree if you can help it. I'm sorry 
 to say, however," he added after a pause, 
 '' that I have been forced to cut down 
 a good many myself Queer place this, 
 isn't it," he continued, dropping the sub- 
 ject of the trees, which vras evidently a 
 painful one to him. " Dead ]\Ian's Mount 
 is what the people about here call it, 
 and that is what they called it at the 
 time of the Conquest, as I can prove to 
 you from ancient writings. I always 
 believed that it was a tumulus, but of 
 late years a lot of these clever people 
 have been taking their oath that it is an 
 ancient British dwelling, as though An- 
 cient Britons, or anyone else for that 
 
4 
 
 28 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 matter, could live In a kind of drain- 
 hole. But they got on the soft side of 
 your old aunt — who by the way, begging 
 your pardon, was a wonderfully obstinate 
 old lady when once she hammered an idea 
 into her head — and so she set to work 
 and built this slate mushroom over the 
 place, and one way and another It cost her 
 two hundred and fifty pounds. Dear me ! 
 I shall never forget her face when she 
 saw the bill," and the old gentleman 
 burst out into a Titanic laugh, such as 
 Harold Quarltch had not heard for many 
 a long day. 
 
 '' Yes," he answered, " it is a queer 
 spot. I think that I must have a dig 
 at it one day." 
 
 '' By Jove," said the Squire. " I never 
 thouo-ht of that. It would be worth 
 doing. Hulloa, it is twenty minutes past 
 seven, and we dine at half past. I shall 
 catch it from Ida. Come on, Colonel 
 Quarltch ; you don't know what it is to 
 
THE COLOXEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 29 
 
 have a dauQ-hter — a dauo-hter when one 
 is late for dinner is a serious thinor for 
 any man," and he started off down the 
 hill In a hurry. 
 
 Very soon, however, he seemed to for- 
 get the terrors in store, and strolled 
 along, stopping now and again to admire 
 some particular oak or view ; chatting 
 all the while in a discursive manner, 
 which, though somewhat aimless, was by 
 no means without its charm. He made 
 a capital companion for a silent man like 
 Harold Quaritch, who liked to hear other 
 people talk. 
 
 In this way they went down the 
 slope, and crossing a couple of wheat 
 fields came to a succession of broad 
 meadows, somewhat sparsely timbered. 
 Through these the footpath ran right up 
 to the grim gateway of the ancient casde, 
 which now loomed before them, oudined 
 in red lines of fire against the ruddy 
 background of the sunset sky. 
 
30 COLONEL QUARITCir, V.C. 
 
 " Ay, it's a fine old ],)lace, Colonel, 
 isn't it ? " said the Squire, catching the 
 exclamation of admiration that broke from 
 his companion's lips, as a sudden turn 
 brouo-ht them into line with the Norman 
 ruin. " History — that's what it is ; his- 
 tory in stone and mortar ; this is 
 historic ground, every inch of it. Those 
 old de la Molles, my ancestors, and the 
 Boisseys before them, were great folk 
 in their day, and they kept up their 
 position well. I will take you to see 
 their tombs in the church yonder on 
 Sunday. I always hoped to be buried 
 beside them, but I can't manage it now, 
 because of the Act. However, I mean 
 to get as near to them as I can. I have 
 a fancy for the companionship of those 
 old Barons, though I expect that they 
 were a roughish set in their lifetimes. 
 Look how squarely those towers stand 
 out against the sky. They always re- 
 mind me of the men who built them— 
 
THE COLO X EL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 31 
 
 Sturdy, overbearing fellows, setting their 
 shoulders against the sea of circumstance 
 and carinor neither for man nor devil 
 till the priests got hold of them at the 
 last. Well, God rest them, they helped 
 to make England, whatever their faults. 
 Queer place to choose for a castle, though, 
 wasn't it ? right out in an open plain." 
 
 '' I suppose that they trusted to their 
 moat and walls, and the hagger at the 
 bottom of the dry ditch," said the Colonel. 
 '' You see there is no eminence from which 
 they could be commanded, and their archers 
 could sweep all the plain from the battle- 
 ments." 
 
 " Ah, yes, of course they could. It is 
 easy to see that you are a soldier. They 
 were no fools, those old crusaders. My 
 word, we must be getting on. They are 
 hauHng down the Union Jack on the west 
 tow^er. I always have it hauled down at 
 sunset," and he began walking briskly again. 
 
 In another three minutes they had crossed 
 
32 COLOXEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 a narrow by-road, and were passing up 
 the ancient drive that led to the castle 
 gates. It was not much of a drive, but 
 there were still some half-dozen of old 
 pollard oaks that had no doubt stood there 
 before the Norman Bolssey, from whose 
 family, centuries ago, the de la Molles had 
 obtained the property by marriage with the 
 heiress, had got his charter and cut the 
 first sod of his moat. 
 
 Right before them was the gateway of 
 the castle, flanked by two great towers, 
 and these, with the exception of some ruins 
 were, as a matter of fact, all that remained 
 of the ancient building, which had been 
 effectually demolished In the time of Crom- 
 well. The space within, where the keep 
 had once stood, was now laid out as a 
 flower garden, while the house, which was 
 of an unpretentious nature, and built In the 
 Jacobean style, occupied the south side of 
 the square, and was placed with Its back 
 to the moat. . 
 
THE COLONEL MEETS THE SQUIRE. 3.3 
 
 *' You see I have practically rebuilt those 
 two towers," said the Squire, pausing 
 underneath the Norman archway. "If I 
 had not done It," he added, apologetically, 
 "they would have been In ruins by now, 
 but it cost a pretty penny, I can tell you. 
 Nobody knows what stuff that old flint 
 masonry is to deal w^Ith, till he tries It. 
 Well, they w^ill stand now^ for many a long 
 day. And here we are " — and he pushed 
 open a porch door and then passed up some 
 steps and through a passage Into an oak- 
 panelled vestibule, which was hung with 
 tapestry originally taken, no doubt, from 
 the old castle, and decorated with coats of 
 armour, spear heads, and ancient swords. 
 
 And here it was that Harold Quaritch 
 once more beheld the fece which had 
 haunted h's memory for so many months. 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA xMOLLE. 
 
 "Is that you, father ? " said a voice, a 
 very sweet voice, but one of which the 
 tones betrayed the irritation natural to a 
 healthy woman who has been kept waiting 
 for her dinner. The voice came from the 
 recesses of the dusky room In which the 
 evening gloom had gathered deeply, and 
 looking In its direction, Harold Ouaritch 
 could see the outline of a tall form sitting 
 in an old oak chair with Its hands crossed. 
 '' Is that you, father ? Really it is too 
 bad to be so late for dinner — especially 
 after you blew up that wretched Emma 
 last night because she was five minutes 
 after time. I have been waiting so long 
 that I have almost been asleep." 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 35 
 
 " I am very sorry, my dear, very," said 
 the old gentleman, apologetically, "but — ■ 
 hullo ! I've knocked my head — here, 
 Marv, brino- me a lioht ! " 
 
 " Here Is a light," said the voice, and 
 at the same moment there v/as a sound 
 of a match being struck. 
 
 In another moment the candle was 
 burning, and the owner of the voice had 
 turned, holding It In such a fashion that Its 
 rays surrounded her like an aureole — show- 
 ing Harold Ouarltch that face of which the 
 memory had never left him. There were 
 the same powerful broad brow, the same 
 nobility of look, the same brown eyes and 
 soft wavino- hair. But the o-jrlhood had o-one 
 out of them, the face was now the face of a 
 woman who knew what life meant, and had 
 not found It too easy. It had lost some 
 of its dreaminess, he thought, though It had 
 gained in intellectual force. As for the 
 fiorure, It was much more admirable than 
 the face, which was strictly speaking nor 
 
 3—- 
 
36 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 a bcautTul one. The figure, however, 
 was undoubtedly beautiful, indeed it is 
 doubtful if many women could show a 
 finer. Ida de la Molle was a large, 
 strong woman, and there was about her 
 a swing and a lissom grace which is 
 very rare, and as attractive as it is rare. 
 She was now nearly six-and-twenty years 
 of age, and not having begun to wither 
 in accordance with the fate which over- 
 takes nearly all unmarried women after 
 thirty, was at her very best. Harold 
 Quaritch, glancing at her well - poised 
 head, her perfect neck and arms (for she 
 was in evening dress) and her gracious 
 form, thought to himself that he had never 
 seen a nobler looking woman. 
 
 "Why, my dear father," she went on as 
 she watched the candle burn up, "you 
 made such a fuss this morning about the 
 dinner being punctually at half-past seven, 
 and now it is eight o'clock and you are 
 not dressed. ' It is enough to ruin any 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. yj 
 
 cook," and she broke off for the first time, 
 seein^' that her father was nor alone. 
 
 ''Yes, my dear, yes," said the old 
 gentleman, " I dare say I did. It is 
 human to err, my d?ar, especially about 
 dinner on a fine evening. Besides I hav:^ 
 made amends and brou^'ht vou a visitor, 
 our new neio'hbour, Colonel Ouaritch. 
 Colonel Ouaritch, let me introduce you to 
 my daughter, INIiss de la Molle." 
 
 " I think that we have met before," said 
 Harold, in a somewhat nervous fashion, as 
 he stretched out his hand. 
 
 " Yes," answered Ida, taking it, '' I 
 remember. It was in the long drift, five 
 years ago, on a windy afternoon, when 
 my hat blew over the hedge and you 
 went to fetch it.", 
 
 "You have a good memory Miss de la 
 Molle," said he, feeling not a little pleased 
 that she should have recollected the in- 
 cident. 
 
 *' Evidently not better than your own, 
 
38 . COLOXEL (2UARITCir, V.C. 
 
 Colonel Ouaritch," was her ready answer. 
 *' Besides, one sees so few strano-ers here 
 
 o 
 
 that one naturally remembers them. It is 
 a place where nothing happens — time passes, 
 that is all." 
 
 Meanwhile the old Squire, who had 
 been making a prodigious fuss with his 
 hat and stick, which he managed to send 
 clattering down the flight of stone steps, 
 departed to get ready, saying in a kind 
 of roar as he went that Ida was to order 
 in the dinner, as he would be down in a 
 minute. 
 
 Accordingly she rang the bell, and told 
 the maid to bring in the soup in five 
 minutes and to lay another place. Then 
 turning to Harold she began to apologise 
 to him. 
 
 " I don't know what sort of a dinner 
 you will get. Colonel Ouaritch," she said, 
 "it is so provoking of my father ; he never 
 gives one the least warning when he is 
 going to ask any one to dinner." 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 39 
 
 *' Not at all — not at all," he answered 
 hurriedly. "It Is I who ought to apolo- 
 gise, coming down on you like — like " 
 
 " A wolf on the fold," suggested Ida. 
 
 " Yes, exactly," he went on earnestly, 
 looking at his coat, *' but not In purple 
 and gold." 
 
 "Well," she went on lauohlnof, " vou 
 will get very little to eat for your pains, 
 and I know that soldiers always like good 
 dinners." 
 
 " How do you know that, jMIss de la 
 Molle.^" 
 
 " Oh, because of poor James and his 
 friends whom he used to bring here. By 
 the way, Colonel Ouarltch," she went on 
 with a sudden softening of the voice, 
 " you have been In Egypt, I know, be- 
 cause I have so often seen your name in 
 the papers ; did you ever meet my brother 
 there .^ " 
 
 " I knew^ him slightly," he answered. 
 " Only very slightly. I did not know that 
 
40 COLOXEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 he was your brother, or indeed that you 
 had a brother. He was a dashing officer." 
 What he did not say, however, was that 
 he also knew him to have been one of 
 the wildest and most extravagant young 
 men in an extravagant regiment, and as 
 such had to some extent shunned his 
 society on the few occasions when he had 
 been thrown in with him. Perhaps Id:i. 
 with a woman's quickness, divined from 
 his tone that there was something behind 
 his remark — at any rate she did not ask 
 him for particulars of their slight acquain- 
 tance. 
 
 '' He was my only brother," she con- 
 tinued ; " there never were but we two, and 
 of course his loss was a great blow to me. 
 My father cannot get over it at all, al- 
 though " and she broke off suddenly 
 
 and rested her head upon her hand. 
 
 At this moment the Squire was heard 
 advancing down the stairs, shouting to 
 the servants as he came. 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 41 
 
 " A thousand pardons, my dear, a 
 thousand pardons," he said, as he entered 
 the room, *'but well, if you will forgive 
 particulars, I was quite unable to discover 
 the w^hereabouts of a certain necessary 
 portion of the male attire. Now, Colonel 
 Quaritch, will you take my daughter ? 
 Stop, you don't know the way — -perhaps I 
 had better show it to you with the candle." 
 
 Accordinolv he advanced out of the 
 vestibule, and turnino- to the left, led the 
 way down a long passage till he reached 
 the dining-room. This apartment w^as 
 like the vestibule, oak panelled, but the 
 walls were decorated with family and other 
 portraits, including a very curious paint- 
 ing of the Castle itself, as it was before 
 its destruction in the time of Cromwell. 
 This painting was executed on a massive 
 slab of oak, and conceived in a most 
 quaint and formal style, being relieved in 
 the foreground with stags at gaze and 
 woodeny horses, that must, according to any 
 
42 COLONEL QUARITCH, J'.C. 
 
 rule of proport'on, have been about half 
 as large as the gateway towers. Evidently, 
 also, it was of an older date than the present, 
 house, which is Jacobean, having probably 
 been removed to its present position from 
 the ruins of the Castle. Such as it was, 
 however, it gave a very good idea of what 
 the ancient seat of the Boisseys and de la 
 Molles had been like before the Round- 
 heads had made an end of its glory. 
 The dining-room itself was commodious, 
 though not large. It was lighted by three 
 narrow windows which looked out upon 
 the moat and bore a considerable air of 
 solid comfort. The table, made of black 
 oak, of extraordinary solidity and weight, 
 was matched by a sideboard of the same 
 material and apparently of the same date, 
 both pieces of furniture being, as Mr. 
 de la Molle informed his guest, relics of 
 the Castle. 
 
 On this sideboard were placed several 
 pieces of old and massive plate, each 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 43 
 
 of which was rudely engraved with thrive 
 falcons 07', the arms of the de la Molle 
 family. One piece, indeed, a very ancient 
 salver, bore those of the Boisseys — a 
 ragged oak, in an escutcheon of pretence 
 — showing thereby that it dated from that 
 de la Molle who in the time of Henry the 
 Seventh had obtained the property by 
 marriage with the Boissey heiress. 
 
 Conversation having turned that way as 
 the dinner, which was a simple one, went 
 on, the old Squire had this piece of plate 
 brouQ-ht to Harold Ouaritch for him to ex- 
 
 amine. 
 
 "It is very curious," he said; "have 
 you much of this, Mr. de la Molle ? " 
 
 " Xo indeed," he said ; '' I wish I had. 
 It all vanished in the time of Charles the 
 First." 
 
 " ]\Ielted down, I suppose," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " No, that is the odd part of it. I don't 
 think it was. It was hidden somewhere — - 
 
44 COLONEL QVARITCH, V.C. 
 
 I don't know where, or perhaps it was 
 turned into money and the money hidden. 
 But I will tell you the story if you like as 
 soon as w^e have done dinner." 
 
 Accordingly, w^hen the servant had re- 
 moved the cloth, and after the old fashion 
 placed the wine upon the naked wood, the 
 Squire began his tale, of which the follow- 
 ino- is the substance. 
 
 o 
 
 " In the time of James I. the de la 
 Molle family was at the height of its pros- 
 perity, that is, so far as money goes. For 
 several generations previous the representa- 
 tives of the family had withdrawn them- 
 selves from any active participation in 
 public affairs, and living here at small 
 expense upon their lands, which were at 
 that time very large, had amassed a 
 quantity of wealth that, for the age, might 
 fairly be called enormous. Thus, Sir 
 Stephen de la Molle, the grandfather of 
 the Sir James who lived in the time of 
 James I., left to his son, also named 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 45 
 
 Stephen, a sum of no less than twenty- 
 three thousand pounds in gold. This 
 Stephen was a great miser, and tradi- 
 tion says that he trebled the sum in his 
 lifetime. Anyhow, he died rich as Croesus, 
 and abominated alike by his tenants and 
 by the country side, as might be expected 
 when a gentleman of his race and fame 
 degraded himself, as this Sir Stephen un- 
 doubtedly did, to the practice of usury. 
 
 '' With the next heir, S!r James, how- 
 ever, the old spirit of the de la ]\Iolles 
 seems to have revived, althouoh it is sufh- 
 ciently clear that he was by no means a 
 spendthrift, but on the contrary a careful 
 man, though one who maintained his 
 station and refused to soil his fingers with 
 such base dealing as it had pleased his 
 uncle to do. Going to court, he became, 
 perhaps on account of his wealth, a con- 
 siderable favourite with James I., to whom 
 he was gready attached and from whom 
 he bouoht a baronetcv. Indeed, the best 
 
46 COLOXEL (JUARITCIJ, I'.C. 
 
 proof of his devotion is, that he on two 
 occasions bnt hirgc sums of money to the 
 King which were never repaid. On. the 
 acces3ion of Charles I., hDwever, Sir James 
 left CDurt under circumstances which were 
 never quite cleared up. It is said that 
 smarting under some slight wh'ch was put 
 upon him, he made a somewhat brusque 
 demand for the money that he had lent to 
 James. Thereon the King, with sarcastic 
 wit, cono-ratulated him on the fact that the 
 spirit of his uncle, Sir Stephen de la 
 Molle, whose name was still a byword in 
 the land, evidently survived in the family. 
 Sir James turned white with anger, bowed, 
 and without a word left the court, nor did 
 he ever return thither. 
 
 "Years passed, and the civil war was at 
 its height. Sir James had as yet steadily 
 refused to take any share in it. He had 
 never forgiven the insult put upon him by 
 the King, for like most of his race, of 
 whom it was said that they never forgave 
 
THE TALE OE SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 47 
 
 an injury, and never forgot a kindness, he 
 was a pertinacious man. Therefore he 
 would not Hft a fino-er In the KIno-'s cause. 
 But still less would he help the Round- 
 heads, whom he hated with a sinoular 
 hatred. So time went, till at last, when 
 he was sore pressed, Charles, knowing his 
 great wealth and Influence, brought himself 
 to write a letter to this Sir James, appeal- 
 ing to him for support, and especially for 
 money. 
 
 " ' I hear,' said the King In his letter, 
 'that Sir James de la Molle, who was afore- 
 tyme well affected to our person and 
 more especially to the late King, our sainted 
 father, doth stand idle, watchino- the Qrrow- 
 Ing of this bloody struggle and lifting no 
 hand. Such was not the way of the race 
 from which he sprang, which, unless history 
 doth greatly lie, hath in the past been ever 
 found at the side of their kIn.o-s strlklno- for 
 the right. It is told to me also, that Sir 
 James de la Molle doth thus place himself 
 
48 COLONEL QUARITCII, J'.C. 
 
 aside, blowing neither hot nor cold, because 
 of some sharp words which we spake in 
 heedless jest many a year that's gone. We 
 know not if this be true, doubting If a 
 man's memory be so long, but If so It be, 
 then hereby do we crave his pardon, and 
 no more can we do. And now Is our 
 estate one of grievous peril, and sorely do 
 we need the aid of God and man. There- 
 fore, If the heart of our subject Sir James 
 de la Molle be not rebellious against us, as 
 we cannot readily credit It to be, we do 
 Implore his present aid In men and money, 
 of which last It Is said he hath laro-e 
 store, this letter being proof of our urgent 
 need.' 
 
 '' These were, as nearly as I can remem- 
 ber, the very words of the letter which was 
 written with the king's own hand, and show 
 pretty clearly how hardly he was pressed. 
 It Is said that when he read It, Sir James, 
 forgetting his grievance, was much affected, 
 and, taking paper, wrote hastily as follows, 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 49 
 
 which indeed he certainly did, for I have seen 
 the letter in the Museum. ' My liege, — Of 
 the past I will not speak. It is past. But 
 since it hath graciously pleased your Majesty 
 to ask mine aid against the rebels who 
 would overthrow your throne, rest assured 
 that all I have is at your Majesty's command, 
 till such time as your enemies are discom- 
 fited. It hath pleased Providence to so 
 prosper my fortunes that I have stored 
 away in a safe place, till these times be 
 past, a very great sum in gold, whereof I 
 will at once place ten thousand pieces at 
 the disposal of your Majesty, so soon as 
 a safe means can be provided of conveying 
 the same, seeing that I had sooner die 
 than that these great moneys should fall 
 into the hands of rebels to the furtherance 
 of a wicked cause.' 
 
 ''Then the letter went on to say that 
 the writer would at once buckle to and 
 raise a troop of horse among his tenantry, 
 and that if other satisfactory arrangements 
 
 VOL. I. 4 
 
so COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 could not be made for the conveyance of 
 the moneys, he would bring them In person 
 to the King. 
 
 ''And now comes the climax of the story. 
 The messenger was captured and Sir 
 James's incautious letter taken from his 
 boot, as a result of which within ten days' 
 time he found himself closely besieged 
 by five hundred Roundheads under the 
 command of one Colonel Playfair. The 
 Castle was but ill-provisioned for a siege, 
 and in the end Sir James was driven by 
 sheer starvation to surrender. No sooner 
 had he obtained an entry, than Colonel 
 Playfair sent for his prisoner, and to his 
 astonishment produced to Sir James's face 
 his own letter to the King. 
 
 " * Now, Sir James,' he said, ' we have 
 the hive, and I must ask you to lead us to 
 the honey. Where be those great moneys 
 whereof you talk herein ? Fain would I be 
 fingering these ten thousand pieces in gold, 
 the which you have so snugly stored away.' 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 51 
 
 . "'Ay,' answered old Sir James, 'you 
 have the hive, but the secret of the 
 honey you have not, nor shall you have 
 it. The ten thousand pieces in gold is 
 where it is, and with it is much more. 
 Find it if you may, Colonel, and take it 
 if you can.' 
 
 '''I shall find it by to-morrow's light, 
 Sir James, or otherwise — or otherwise you 
 die.' 
 
 " ' I must die — all men do, Colonel, but if 
 I die, the secret dies with me.' 
 
 '''This shall we see,' answered the 
 Colonel grimly, and old Sir James was 
 marched off to a cell, and there closely 
 confined on bread and water. But he did 
 not die the next day, nor the next, nor 
 for a week, indeed. 
 
 *' Every day he was brought up before 
 the Colonel, and under the threat of im- 
 mediate death questioned as to where the 
 treasure w^as, not being suffered mean- 
 while to communicate by word or sign 
 
 4—2 
 
52 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 with any one, save the officers of the rebels. 
 Every day he refused, till at last his In- 
 quisitor's patience gave out, and he was told 
 frankly that If he did not communicate the 
 secret he would be shot at the following 
 dawn. 
 
 " Old Sir James laughed, and said that 
 shoot him they might, but that he consigned 
 his soul to the Devil if he would enrich 
 them with his treasures, and then asked 
 that his Bible might be brought to him 
 that he might read therein and prepare 
 himself for death. 
 
 '' They gave him the Bible and left him. 
 Next morning at the dawn, a file of Round- 
 heads marched him Into the courtyard of 
 the Castle, and here he found Colonel 
 Playfair and his officers waiting. 
 
 '' ' Now, Sir James, for your last word,' said 
 the Roundhead. . * Will you reveal where 
 the treasure lies, or will you choose to die ? ' 
 • - *'*I will not reveal,' answered the old 
 man. ' Murder me if ye will. The deed is 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 53 
 
 worthy of holy Presbyters. I have spoken 
 and my mind is fixed.' 
 
 " ' Bethink you,' said the Colonel. 
 
 '' * I have thought,' he answered, 'and I 
 am ready. Slay me and seek the treasure. 
 But one thing I ask. My young son is 
 not here. In France hath he been these 
 three years, and nought knows he of 
 where I have hid this gold. Send to him 
 this Bible when I am dead. Nay, search 
 it from page to page. There is nought 
 therein save what I have writ here upon 
 this last sheet. It is all I have left to 
 give.' 
 
 '' ' The book shall be searched,' answered 
 the Colonel, " and if nought is found 
 therein it shall be sent. And now, in the 
 name of God, I adjure you. Sir James, let 
 not the love of lucre stand between you 
 and your life. Here I make you one last 
 offer. Discover but to us the ten thousand 
 pounds whereof you speak in this writing,' 
 and he held up the letter to the King, 
 
54 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 ' and you shall go free — refuse and you 
 die.' 
 
 " ' I refuse,' he answered. 
 
 " ' Musqueteers, make ready,' shouted the 
 Colonel, and the file of men stepped 
 forward. 
 
 *' But at that moment there came up so 
 furious a squall of wind, and with It such 
 dense and cutting rain, that for a while 
 the execution was delayed. Presently It 
 passed, the wild light of the November 
 morning swept out from the sky, and re- 
 vealed the doomed man kneeling In prayer 
 upon the sodden turf, the water running 
 from his white hair and beard. 
 
 '' They called to him to stand up, but he 
 would not, and continued praying. So 
 they shot him on his knees." 
 
 ''Well," said Colonel Quarltch, ''at any 
 rate he died like a gallant gentleman." 
 
 At that moment there was a knock at 
 the door, and the servant came In. 
 
 "What is it .'^" asked the Squire. 
 
 I 
 
THE TALE OF SIR JAMES DE LA MOLLE. 55 
 
 '' George is here, please, sir," said the 
 girl, ''and says that he would like to see 
 you." 
 
 " Confound him," growled the old gentle- 
 man ; "he is always here after something 
 or other. I suppose it is about the Moat 
 Farm. He was going to see Janter to- 
 day. Will you excuse me, Quaritch .'^ My 
 daughter will tell you the end of the story 
 if you care to hear any more. I will join 
 you in the drawing-room." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE END OF THE TALE. 
 
 As soon as her father had gone, Ida rose 
 and suggested that if Colonel Quaritch 
 had done his wine they should go into the 
 drawing-room, which they accordingly did. 
 This room was much more modern than 
 either the vestibule or the dining-room, 
 and had an air and flavour of nineteenth 
 century young lady about it. There were 
 the little tables, the draperies, the photo- 
 graph frames, and all the hundred and one 
 knick-knacks and odds and ends by means 
 of which a lady of taste makes a chamber 
 lovely in the eyes of brutal man. It 
 was a very pleasant place to look upon, 
 this drawing-room at Honham Castle, with 
 its irregular recesses, its somewhat faded 
 colours illuminated by the soft light of a 
 shaded lamp, and its general air of feminine 
 
THE END OF THE TALE. 57 
 
 dominion. Harold Quaritch was a man 
 who had seen much of the world, but who 
 had not seen very much of drawing-rooms, 
 or, indeed, of ladies at large. They had not 
 come in his way, or if they did come in 
 his way he had avoided them. Therefore, 
 perhaps, was he the more susceptible to such 
 influences when he was brought within 
 their reach. Or perchance it was Ida's 
 gracious presence which threw a charm 
 upon the place that added to its natural 
 attractiveness, as the china bowls of lavender 
 and rose leaves added perfume to the air. 
 Anyhow, it struck him that he had rarely 
 before seen a room which conveyed to his 
 mind such strong suggestions of refinement 
 and gentle rest. 
 
 " What a charming room," he said, as 
 he entered it. 
 
 '' I am glad you think so," answered 
 Ida ; " because it is my own territory, 
 and I arrange it." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " it is easy to see that." 
 
58 COLOXEL QUARITCIJ, J'.C. 
 
 " Well, would you like to hear the end of 
 the story about Sir James and his treasure ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; It Interests me very much." 
 
 '' It positively fascinates me," said Ida 
 with emphasis. 
 
 *' Listen, and I will tell you. After 
 they had shot old Sir James they took 
 the Bible off him, but whether or no 
 Colonel Playfair ever sent it to the son 
 in France, is not clear. 
 
 " The story is all known historically, 
 and it Is certain that, as my father said, 
 he asked that his Bible might be sent, 
 but nothing more. This son. Sir Ed- 
 ward, never lived to return to England. 
 After his father's murder, the estates 
 w^ere seized by the Parliamentary party, 
 and the old Castle, with the exception 
 of the gate towers, razed to the ground, 
 partly for military purposes and partly 
 in the long and determined attempt that 
 was made to discover old Sir James's 
 treasure, which- might, it was thought, 
 
THE END OF THE TALE. 59 
 
 have been concealed in some secret 
 chamber in the walls. But it was all of 
 no use, and Colonel Playtair found that 
 in letting his temper get the better of 
 him and shooting Sir James, he had done 
 away with the only chance of finding the 
 money that he was ever likely to have, 
 for to all appearance the secret had died 
 with its owner. There w^as a great 
 noise about it at the time, and the 
 Colonel was degraded from his rank in 
 reward for what he had done. It was 
 presumed that old Sir James must have 
 had accomplices in the hiding of so great 
 a mass of gold, and every means was 
 taken, by way of threats and promises 
 of reward — which at last grew to half 
 of the total amount that should be dis- 
 covered — to induce these to come for- 
 ward if they existed, but without result. 
 And so the matter went on, till after a 
 few years the quest died away and was 
 forgotten. 
 
6o COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 '' Meanwhile the son, Sir Edward, who 
 was the second and last baronet, led a 
 wandering life abroad, fearing or not 
 caring to return to England now that all 
 his property had been seized. When he 
 was two-and-twenty years of age, how- 
 ever, he contracted an imprudent marriage 
 with his cousin, a lady of the name of 
 Ida Dofferleigh, a girl of good blood 
 and great beauty, but without means. 
 Indeed, she was the sister of Geoffrey 
 Dofferleigh, who was a first cousin and 
 companion in exile of Sir Edward's, and as 
 you will presently see, my lineal ancestor. 
 Well, within a year of this marriage, poor 
 Ida, my namesake, died with her baby 
 of fever, chiefly brought on, they say, by 
 want and anxiety of mind, and the shock 
 seems to have turned her husband's brain. 
 At any rate, within three or four months 
 of her death, he committed suicide. But 
 before he did so, he formally executed a 
 rather elaborate will, by which he left all 
 
THE EXD OF THE TALE. 6i 
 
 his estates in England, ' now unjustly 
 withheld from me contrary to law and 
 natural right by the rebel pretender Crom- 
 well, together with the treasure hidden- 
 thereon or elsewhere by my late murdered 
 father. Sir James de la Molle,' to John 
 Geoffrey Dofferleigh, his cousin, and the 
 brother of his late wife, and his heirs for 
 ever, on condition only of his assuming 
 the name and arms of the de la Molle 
 family, the direct line of which became 
 extinct with himself Of course, this will, 
 when it was executed, was to all appear- 
 ance so much waste paper, but within 
 three years from that date Charles II. was 
 King of England. 
 
 *' Thereon Geoffrey Dofferleigh produced 
 the document, and on assuming the name 
 and arms of de la Molle actually suc- 
 ceeded in obtaininof the remains of the 
 Castle and a considerable portion of the; 
 landed property, though the baronetcy 
 became extinct. His son it was who built 
 
62 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C 
 
 this present house, and he Is our direct 
 ancestor, for though my father talks of 
 them as though they were — ^it is a little 
 weakness of his — the old de la MoUes 
 are not our direct male ancestors." 
 : -Well," said Harold, ^ and did Doffer-, 
 leigh find the treasure ? " 
 ■ ''No, ah no, nor anybody else, the:- 
 treasure has vanished. He hunted for it 
 a great deal, and he did find those pieces 
 of plate which you saw to-night, hidden 
 away somewhere, I don't know where, 
 but there was nothing else with them." 
 
 '' Perhaps the whole thing was non- 
 sense," said Harold reflectively. 
 
 '' No," answered Ida shaking her head, 
 *' I am sure it was not, I am sure the 
 treasure is hidden away somewhere to this 
 day. Listen, Colonel Quaritch — you have 
 not heard quite all the story yet — / found 
 something." 
 
 ''You, what.^" ■ 
 
 "Wait a minute and I will show you," 
 
THE END OF THE TALE. 63 
 
 and going to a cabinet in the corner she 
 unlocked it, and took out a despatch box, 
 which she also unlocked. 
 
 "Here," she said, "I found this. It is 
 the Bible that Sir James begged might be 
 sent to his son, just before they shot him, 
 you remember," and she handed him a 
 small brown book. He took it and exam- 
 ined it carefully. It was bound in leather, 
 and on the cover was written in large 
 letters, " Sir James de la Molle. Honham 
 Castle, 161 1." Nor was this all. The first 
 sheets of the Bible, which was one of the 
 earliest copies of the authorised version,, 
 were torn out, and the top corner was also 
 gone, having to all appearance been shot 
 off by a bullet, a presumption that a dark 
 stain of blood upon the cover and edges 
 brought near to certainty. 
 
 '* Poor gentleman," said Harold, "he must 
 have had it in his pocket when he was 
 shot. Where did you find it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," said Ida, "in fact 
 
64 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 I have no doubt of it I found It when I 
 was a child in an ancient oak chest in the 
 basement of the western tower, quite 
 hidden up In dusty rubbish and bits of 
 old iron. But look at the end and you 
 will see what he wrote in it to his son, 
 Edward. Here I will show you," and 
 leaning over him she turned to the last 
 page of the book. Between the bottom of 
 the page and the conclusion of the final 
 chapter of Revelations there had been a 
 small blank space now densely covered 
 with crabbed writing in faded ink, which 
 she read aloud. It ran as follows : 
 
 ''Do not grieve for me, Edward, my 
 son, that I am thus suddenly done to death 
 by rebel murderers, for nought Jiappeneth 
 but according to Gods will. And now 
 farewell, Edward, till we shall meet in 
 heaven. My monies have I hid and on 
 account thereof I die unto this world, 
 knowing that not one piece shall Cromwell 
 touch. To whom God shall appoint, shall 
 
THE EXD OF THE TALE. 65 
 
 all my treasure be, for nought can I com- 
 mtLnicatey 
 
 "There," said Ida triumphantly, ''what 
 do you think of that, Colonel Ouaritch ? 
 The Bible, I think, was never sent to his 
 son, but here it is, and in that writing, as 
 I solemnly believe," and she laid her white 
 finger upon the faded characters, '' lies the 
 key to wherever it is that the money is 
 hidden, only I fear I shall never make it 
 out. For years I have puzzled over it, 
 thinkino' that it mio-ht be some form of 
 acrostic, but I can make nothing of it. I 
 have tried it all ways. I have translated 
 it into French, and had it translated into 
 Latin, but still I can find out nothing 
 — nothing. But some day somebody will 
 hit upon it — at least I hope so." 
 
 Harold shook his head. " I am afraid," 
 he said, " that what has remained undis- 
 covered for so long will remain so till the 
 end of the chapter. Perhaps old Sir James 
 was hoaxinof his enemies ! " 
 
 VOL. I. 5 
 
66 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 "No," said Ida, *' for if he was, what 
 became of all the money ? He was known 
 to be one of the richest men of his day, 
 and that he was rich, we can see from his 
 letter to the King. There was nothing 
 found after his death, except his lands, of 
 course. Oh, it will be found some day, 
 twenty centuries hence probably, much too 
 late to be of any good to us," and she 
 sighed deeply, while a pained and wearied 
 expression spread Itself over her handsome 
 face. 
 
 " Well," said Harold In a doubtful voice, 
 ''there may be something in it. May I 
 take a copy of that writing ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Ida laughing, '' and 
 If you find the treasure we will go shares. 
 Stop, I will dictate It to you." 
 
 Just as this process was finished and 
 Harold was shutting up his pocket-book, 
 in which he put the fair copy he had 
 executed on a half-sheet of note paper, 
 the old Squire- came into the room again. 
 
THE EXD OF THE TALE. 67 
 
 Lookino- at his face, his visitor saw that 
 the interview with ''George" had evi- 
 dently been anything but satisfactory, for 
 it bore an expression of exceedingly low 
 spirits. 
 
 " Well, father, what is the matter ? " 
 asked his dauo'hter. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, my dear, nothing," he 
 answered in melancholy tones. " George 
 has been here, that is all." 
 
 "Yes, and I w^ish he would keep away," 
 she said with a little stamp of her foot, 
 "for he always brings some bad news or 
 other." 
 
 "It is the times, my dear, it is the 
 times ; it isn't George. I really don't 
 know what has come to the country." 
 
 "What is it?" said Ida w^ith a deepen- 
 ing expression of anxiety. " Something 
 wrong about the Moat Farm ? " 
 
 "Yes; Janter has thrown it up after 
 all, and I am sure I don't know where I 
 am to find another tenant." 
 
 5-2 
 
68 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 " You ses what the pleasures of landed 
 property are, Colonel Ouaritch," said Ida, 
 turnino- towards him with a smile which 
 
 o 
 
 did not convey a great sense of cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 ''Yes," he said, "I know. Thank 
 goodness I have only the ten acres that 
 my dear old aunt left to me. And now," 
 he added, '' I think that I must be saying- 
 good - night. It is half-past ten, and I 
 expect that old Mrs. Jobson is sitting up 
 for me." 
 
 Ida looked up in remonstrance, and 
 opened her lips to speak, and then for 
 some reason that did not appear changed 
 her mind and held out her hand. " Good- 
 night, Colonel Quaritch," she said ; '' I am 
 so pleased that we are going to have you 
 as a neighbour. By-the-way, I have a 
 few people coming to play lawn tennis 
 here to-morrow afternoon, will you come 
 too ? " 
 
 *'What," broke in the Squire, in a 
 
THE EXD OF THE TALE. 69 
 
 voice of irritation, " more lawn tennis 
 parties, Ida ? I think that you might 
 have spared me for once — with all this 
 business on my hands, too." 
 
 ''Nonsense, father," said his daughter, 
 with some acerbity. " How can a few 
 people playing lawn tennis hurt you ? It 
 is quite useless to shut oneself up and be 
 miserable over things that one cannot 
 help." 
 
 The old gentleman collapsed with an 
 air of pious resignation, and meekly asked 
 who was coming. 
 
 "Oh, nobody In particular. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Jeffries — Mr. Jeffries Is our clergy- 
 man, you know. Colonel Ouarltch — and 
 Dr. Bass and the two Miss Smiths, one of 
 whom he Is supposed to be in love with, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Quest, and Mr. Edward 
 Cossey, and a few more." 
 
 " Mr. Edward Cossey," said the Squire, 
 jumping off his chair ; " really, Ida, you 
 know I detest that vouno; man, that I 
 
70 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 consider him an abominable young man ; 
 and I think you might have shown' more 
 consideration to me than to have asked 
 him here." 
 
 '' I could not help it, father," she an- 
 swered, coolly. "He was with Mrs. Quest 
 v/hen I asked her, so I had to ask him 
 too. Besides, I rather like Mr. Cossey, 
 he is always so polite, and I don't see 
 why you should take such a violent preju- 
 dice against him. Anyhov/, he is coming, 
 and there Is an end of It." 
 
 '' Cossey, Cossey," said Harold, throwing 
 himself into the breach, " I used to know 
 that name." It seemed to Ida that he 
 winced a little as he said It. " Is he one 
 of the great banking family ? " 
 
 ''Yes," said Ida, ''he Is one of the 
 sons. They say he will have half a 
 million of money or more when his father, 
 who is very infirm, dies. Pie is looking 
 after the branch banks of his house in this 
 part of the world, at least nominally. 
 
THE END OF THE TALE. yi 
 
 I fancy that Mr. Quest really manages 
 them ; certainly he manages the Boislng- 
 ham branch." 
 
 *' Well, well," said the Squire, '* if they 
 are coming, I suppose they are coming. 
 At any rate, I can go out. If you are 
 going home, Ouaritch, I will walk with 
 you. I want a little air." 
 
 '' Colonel Ouaritch, you have not said if 
 you will come to my party to-morrow, 
 yet," said Ida, as he stretched out his 
 hand to say good-bye. 
 
 '' Oh, thank you. Miss de la Molle ; yes, 
 I think I can come, though I play tennis 
 atrociously." 
 
 " Oh, we all do that. Well, good-night. 
 I am so very pleased that you have come 
 to live at Molehill ; It will be so nice for 
 my father to have a companion," she added 
 as an afterthought. 
 
 '' Yes," said the Colonel grimly, '' we 
 are almost of an age — good-night." 
 
 Ida watched the door close and then 
 
72 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 leant her arm on the mantelpiece, and 
 reflected that she liked Colonel Quaritch 
 very much, so much that even his not 
 very beautiful physiognomy did not repel 
 her, indeed rather attracted her than other- 
 wise. 
 
 *' Do you know," she said to herself, '' I 
 think that is the sort of man I should 
 like to marry. Nonsense," she added, with 
 an impatient shrug, " nonsense, you are 
 nearly six-and-twenty, altogether too old for 
 that sort of thing. And now there is this 
 new trouble about the Moat Farm. My 
 poor old father ! Well, it is a hard world, 
 and I think that sleep is about the best 
 thing in it." 
 
 And with a sigh she lighted her candle 
 to go to bed, then changed her mind and 
 sat down to await her father's return. 
 
 £© — l^l — 5) ^^\—> ' 
 
 i^sf^^^ll 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITION. 
 
 *' I don't know what is coming to this 
 country, I really don't ; and that's a fact," 
 said the Squire to his companion, after they 
 had walked some paces in silence. '' Here 
 is this farm, the Moat Farm. It fetched 
 twenty-five shillings an acre when I was a 
 young man, and eight years ago it used to 
 fetch thirty-five. Now I have reduced it 
 and reduced it to fifteen, just in order to 
 keep the tenant. And what is the end of 
 it ? Janter — he's the tenant — gave notice 
 last Michaelmas ; but that stupid owl, 
 George, said it was all nothing, and that he 
 would continue at fifteen shillings when the 
 time came. And now to-night he comes to 
 me with a face as long as a yard-arm, and 
 says that Janter won't keep it at any price, 
 
74 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 and that he does not know where he 
 is to find another tenant, not he. It's 
 quite heartbreaking, that's what it is. 
 Three hundred acres of good, sound, food- 
 producing land, and no tenant for it at 
 fifteen shillings an acre. What am I to do ? " 
 
 "• Can't you take it in hand and farm it 
 yourself.^" asked Harold. 
 
 ** How can I take it in hand 1 I have 
 one farm of a hundred and fifty acres in 
 hand as it is. Do you know what it would 
 cost to take over that farm ? " and he stopped 
 in his walk and struck his stick into the 
 ground. '' Ten pounds an acre, every far- 
 thing of it — and say a thousand for the 
 covenants — about four thousand pounds in 
 all. Now where am I to get four thousand 
 pounds to speculate with in that way, for it 
 is a speculation, and one which I am too 
 old to look after myself, even if I had the 
 knowledge. Well, there you are, and now 
 I'll say good night, sir. It's getting chilly, 
 and I have felt my chest for the last year or 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITION. 75 
 
 two. By the way, I suppose I shall see 
 you to-morrow^ at this tennis party of Ida's. 
 It's all very v;ell for Ida to go in for her 
 tennis parties, but how^ can I think of such 
 things with all this worry on my hands ? 
 Well, good-night, Colonel Ouaritch, good- 
 night," and he turned and walked away 
 throuo-h the moonlio-ht. 
 
 Harold Ouaritch watched him go and 
 then stalked off home, reflectinof, not with- 
 out sadness, upon the drama which w^as 
 opening up before him, that most common 
 of dramas in these days of depression — the 
 break up of an ancient family through causes 
 beyond control. It required far less acumen 
 and knowledge of the wox^ld than he pos- 
 sessed to make it clear to him that the old 
 race of de la Molle was doomed. This 
 story of farms thrown up and money not 
 forthcoming pointed its own moral, and 
 a sad one it was. Even Ida's almost 
 childish excitement about the leQ;end of the 
 buried treasure showed him how present 
 
76 COLOXEL (2UARITCII, V.C. 
 
 to her mind must be the necessity of money ; 
 and he fell to thinking how pleasant It 
 would be to be able to play the part of 
 the Fairy Prince and step In with untold 
 wealth between her and the ruin which 
 threatened her family. How well that 
 grand - looking open-minded old Squire 
 would become a great station, fitted as he 
 was by nature, descent, and tradition, to play 
 the solid part of an English country gentle- 
 man of the good old-fashioned kind. It 
 was pitiful to think of a man of his stamp 
 forced by the vile exigencies of a narrow 
 purse to scheme and fight against the 
 advancing tide of destitution. And Ida, too, 
 — Ida, who was equipped with every at- 
 tribute that can make wealth and power 
 what they should be — a frame to show 
 off her worth and state. Well, It was the 
 way of the world, and he could not mend 
 it ; but it was with a bitter sense of the 
 unfitness of things that with some little 
 difficulty — for^^he was not yet fully accus- 
 
THE SQUIRE EXP LA IX S THE POSITIOX. 77 
 
 tomed to its twists and turns — he found his 
 way past the swelHng heap of Dead Man's 
 ^Nlount and round the house to his own 
 front door. 
 
 He entered the house, and havino- told 
 Mrs. Jobson that she could go to bed, 
 sat down to smoke and think. Harold 
 Ouaritch, like many solitary men, was a 
 great smoker, and never did he feel the 
 need for the consolation of tobacco more 
 than on this nioht. A few months ao-o, 
 when he had retired from the army, 
 he found himself in a o-reat dilemma. 
 
 o 
 
 There he was, a hale, active man of three- 
 and - forty, of busy habits, and regular 
 mind, suddenly thrown upon the world 
 v\-ithout occupation. What was he to do 
 with himself? While he was asking this 
 question and waiting blankly for an answer 
 which did not come, his aunt, old Mrs. 
 Massey, departed this life, leaving him 
 heir to what she possessed, which might 
 be three hundred a year in all. This, 
 
78 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 added to his pension and the Httle that he 
 owned independently, put him beyond the 
 necessity of seeking further employment. 
 So he had made up his mind to come to 
 reside at Molehill, and live the quiet, some- 
 what aimless, life of a small country gentle- 
 man. His reading, for he was a great 
 reader, especially of scientific works, would, 
 he thought, keep him employed. Moreover, 
 he was a thorough sportsman, and an ar- 
 dent, though owing to the smallness of his 
 means necessarily not a very extensive, 
 collector of curiosities, and more particu- 
 larly of coins. 
 
 At first, after he had come to his de- 
 cision, a feeling of infinite rest and satis- 
 faction had taken possession of him. The 
 struggle of life was over for him. No 
 longer would he be obliged to think, and 
 contrive, and toil ; henceforth his days 
 would slope gently down towards the 
 inevitable end. Trouble lay in the past, 
 nov/ rest and rest alone awaited him, rest 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE P OS IT 10 X. 79 
 
 that would gradually grow deeper and 
 deeper as the swifc years rolled by, till it 
 was swallowed up in that almighty Peace 
 to which, being a simple and religious 
 man, he had looked forward from child- 
 hood as the end and object of his life. 
 
 Foolish man and vain imao-ininor ! Here, 
 while we draw breath, there is no rest. 
 We must go on continually, on from 
 strength to strength, or weakness to weak- 
 ness ; we must always be troubled about 
 this or that, and must ever have this to 
 desire and that to reo^ret. It is an inevit- 
 able law within whose attraction all must 
 fall ; yes, even the purest souls, cradled 
 in their hope of heaven ; and the most 
 swinish, wallowino^ in the mud of their 
 gratified desires. 
 
 And so our hero had already begun to 
 find out. Here, before he had been forty- 
 eight hours in Honham, a fresh cause of 
 trouble had arisen. He had seen Ida de 
 la Molle again, and after an interval of 
 
8o COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 between five and six years had found her 
 face yet more charming than it was 
 before. In short he had fallen in love 
 with it, and being a sensible man he did 
 not conceal this fact from himself. Indeed 
 the truth was that he had been in love 
 with her for all these years, though he had 
 never looked at the matter in that light. 
 At the least the pile had been gathered 
 and laid, and did but require a touch 
 of the match to burn up merrily enough. 
 And now this was supplied, and at the 
 first glance of Ida's eyes the magic flame 
 began to hiss and crackle, and he knew 
 that nothinor short of a convulsion or a 
 deluge would put it out. 
 
 Men of the stamp of Harold Quaritch 
 generally pass through three stages with 
 reference to the other sex. They begin in 
 their youth by making a goddess of one of 
 them, and finding out their mistake. Then 
 for many years they look upon woman as 
 the essence and incarnation of evil and a 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITIOX. 8i 
 
 thing no more to be trusted than a jaguar. 
 Ultimately, however, this folly wears itself 
 out, probably in proportion as the old 
 affection fades and dies away, and is re- 
 placed by contempt and regret that so 
 much should have been wasted on that 
 which was of so little worth. Then It Is 
 that the danger comes, for then a man puts 
 forth his second venture, puts It forth with 
 fear and trembling, and with no great hope 
 of seeing a golden Argosy sailing Into 
 port. And if It sinks or Is driven back by 
 adverse winds and frownino- skies, there 
 is an end of his leoitlmate dealniQ-s with 
 such frail merchandise. 
 
 And now he, Harold Ouarltch, was 
 about to put forth this second venture, 
 not of his own ' desire or free will in- 
 deed, but because his reason and judg- 
 ment were overmastered. In short, he 
 had fallen in love with Ida de la Molle 
 when he first saw her five years ago, and 
 was now in the process of discovering the 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
82 COLOXEL QUARITCIJ, l\C. 
 
 fact. There he sat In his chair in the old 
 half-furnished room, which he proposed to 
 turn into his dining-room, and groaned in 
 spirit over this portentous discovery. What 
 had become of his fair prospect of quiet 
 years sloping gently downwards, and warm 
 with the sweet drowsy light of afternoon .^ 
 How was it that he had not known those 
 things that belonged to his peace ? And 
 probably It would end in nothing. Was it 
 likely that such a splendid young woman 
 as Ida would care for a superannuated 
 army officer, with nothing to recommend 
 him beyond five or six hundred a year 
 and a Victoria Cross, which he never wore. 
 Probably If she married at all she would 
 try to marry someone who would assist to 
 retrieve the fallen fortunes of her family, 
 which it was absolutely beyond his power 
 to do. Altogether the cudook did not 
 please him, as he sat there far into the 
 watches of the night, and pulled at his 
 empty pipe. >So litde did It please him. 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAIXS THE POSITIOX. 83 
 
 Indeed, that when at last he rose to find 
 his way to bed up the old oak staircase, 
 the only imposing thing In Molehill, he had 
 almost made up his mind to give up the 
 Idea of living at Honham at all. He would 
 sell the place and emigrate to Vancouver's 
 Island or New Zealand, and thus place an 
 Impassable barrier between himself and that 
 sweet, strong face, which seemed to have 
 acquired a touch of sternness since last he 
 looked upon It five years ago. 
 
 Ah, wise resolutions of the quiet night, 
 whither do you go in the garish light of 
 day ? To heaven, perhaps, with the mist 
 wreaths and the dew drops. 
 
 When the Squire got back to the Castle, 
 he found his dauo-hter still sitting^ In the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 "What, not gone to bed, Ida?" he 
 said. 
 
 " No, father, I was going, and then I 
 thought that I would wait to hear what all 
 
 6—2 
 
84 COLOXEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 this is about Janter and the INIoat Farm. 
 It is best to get it over." 
 
 *' Yes, yes, my dear — yes, but there is 
 not much to tell you. Janter has thrown 
 up the farm after all, and George says that 
 there is not another tenant to be had for 
 love or money. He tried one man, who 
 said that he would not have it at five 
 shillings an acre, as prices are." 
 
 " That is bad enough in all conscience," 
 said Ida, pushing at the fireirons with her 
 foot. '' What is to be done ? " 
 
 ''What is to be done?" answered her 
 father irritably. "How can I tell you what 
 is to be done ? I suppose that I must 
 take the place in hand, that is all." 
 
 '' Yes, but that costs money, docs it 
 not ? " 
 
 '' Of course it does, it costs about four 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 *' Well," said Ida, looking up, ''and where 
 is all that sum to come from ? We have 
 not got four thousand pounds in the world," 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAEVS THE POSITIOX. 85 
 
 ''Come from? Why I suppose that I 
 must borrow it on the security of the 
 land." 
 
 " Would it not be better to let the place 
 go out of cultivation rather than risk so 
 much money ? " she answered. 
 
 " Go out of cultivation ! Nonsense, Ida, 
 how can you talk like that } Why that 
 strong land would be ruined for a genera- 
 tion to come." 
 
 " Perhaps it would, but surely it would be 
 better that the land should be ruined than 
 that we should be. Father, dear." she said 
 appealingly, laying one hand upon his 
 shoulder, ''do be frank with me, and tell 
 me what our position really is. I see you 
 wearing yourself out about business from day 
 to day, and I know that there is never any 
 money for anything, scarcely enough to keep 
 the house eoinir ; and vet vou will not tell 
 me what we really owe — and I think I have 
 a right to know." 
 
 The Squire turned Impatiendy. " Girls 
 
86 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 have no head for these things," he said, 
 "so what is the use of talking about it?" 
 
 *' But I am not a girl ; I am a woman of 
 six-and-twenty ; and putting other things 
 aside, I am almost as much interested in 
 your affairs as you are yourself," she said 
 with determination. " I cannot bear this 
 sort of thing any longer. I see that abomin- 
 able man, Mr. Quest, continually hovering 
 about here like a bird of ill-omen, and I 
 cannot bear it ; and I tell you w^hat it is, 
 fother, if you don't tell me the whole truth 
 at once I shall cry," and she looked as 
 thouo-h she meant It. 
 
 Now the old Squire was no more im- 
 pervious to a woman's tears than any other 
 man, and of all Ida's moods, and they were 
 many, he most greatly feared that rare one 
 which took the form of tears. Besides, he 
 loved his only daughter more dearly than 
 anything in the world except one thing, 
 Honham Castle, and could not bear to 
 give her pain. 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITION. 87 
 
 ''Very well," he said, ''of course If you 
 wish to know about these things you have 
 a right to. I have desired to spare ycu 
 trouble, that is all ; but as you are so 
 very imperious, the best thing that I can 
 do is to let you have your own way. Still, 
 as it is rather late, if you have no objec- 
 tion I think that I had better put it off 
 till to-morrow." 
 
 " No, no, father. By to-morrow you will 
 have changed your mind. Let us have it 
 now. I want to know how much we 
 really owe, and what we have got to live 
 on." 
 
 The old gentleman hummed and hawed 
 a little, and after various indications ot 
 impatience at last began : 
 
 "Well, as you know, our family has for 
 some generations depended upon the land. 
 Your dear mother brouoht a small fortune 
 with her, five or six thousand pounds, but 
 that, with the sanction of her trustees, was 
 expended upon improvements to the farms 
 
88 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 and In paying off a small mortgage. Well, 
 for many years the land brought In about 
 two thousand a year, but somehow we 
 always found It difficult to keep within 
 that Income. For Instance, It was necessary 
 to repair the gateway, and you have no 
 Idea of the expense In which those repairs 
 landed me. Then your poor brother 
 James cost a lot of money, and always 
 would have the shooting kept up .In such 
 an extravagant way. Then he went Into 
 the army, and heaven only knows what 
 he spent there. Your brother was very 
 extravagant, my dear, and well, perhaps 
 I was foolish ; I never could say him 
 no. And that was not all of It, for when 
 the poor boy died he left fifteen hundred 
 pounds of debt behind him, and I had to 
 find the money. If It was only for the 
 honour of the family. Of course you know 
 that we cut the entail when he came of 
 age. Well, and then these dreadful times 
 have come upon the top of It all, and upon 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITIOX. 89 
 
 my word, at the present moment I don't 
 know which way to turn," and he paused 
 and drummed his fingers uneasily upon a 
 book. 
 
 *'Yes, father, but you have not told me 
 yet what it is that we owe." 
 
 ** Well, it is difficult to answer that all 
 in a minute, perhaps twenty-five thousand 
 on mortgage, and a few floating debts." 
 
 '' And what is the place worth } " 
 
 "It used to be worth between fifty and 
 sixty thousand pounds. It is impossible 
 to say what it would fetch now. Land is 
 practically a drug in the market. But 
 things will come round, my dear. It is 
 only a question of holding on." 
 
 *' Then if you borrow a fresh sum in 
 order to take up this farm, you will owe 
 about thirty thousand pounds, and if you 
 give five per cent., as I suppose you do, 
 you will have to pay fifteen hundred 
 a year in interest. Now, father, you 
 said that in the good times the land 
 
90 COLONEL QUARITCH, F.C 
 
 brought in two thousand a year, so, of 
 course, it can't bring in so much now. 
 Therefore, by the time that you have paid 
 the interest, there will be nothing, or less 
 than nothing, left for us to live on." 
 
 Her father winced at this cruel and 
 
 convmcmo- loo-ic. 
 
 "No, no," he said, "it is not so bad as 
 that. You jump to conclusions, but really, 
 if you do not mind, I am very tired, and 
 should like to go to bed." 
 
 " Father, what is the good of trying to 
 shirk the thing just because it is disagree- 
 able ? " she asked earnestly. " Do you 
 suppose that it is more pleasant to me 
 to talk about it than it is for you ? I 
 know that you are not to blame about 
 it. I know that dear James w^as very 
 thoughtless and extravagant, and that the 
 times are crushing. But to go on like 
 this is only to go to ruin. It would be 
 better for us to live in a cottage on a 
 couple of hundred a year than to try to 
 
THE SQUIRE EXPLAINS THE POSITION. 91 
 
 keep our heads above water here, which 
 we cannot do. Sooner or later these 
 people, Quest, or whoever they are, will 
 want their money back, and then, if they 
 cannot have it, they will sell the place over 
 our heads. I believe that man Quest 
 wants to get it himself — that is what I 
 believe — and set up as a country gentle- 
 man. Father, I know it is a dreadful 
 thing to say, but we ought to leave 
 Honham." 
 
 " Leave Honham ! " said the old gentle- 
 man, jumping up in his agitation; ''w^hat 
 nonsense you talk, Ida. How can I leave 
 Honham ? It would kill me at my age. 
 How can I do it } And, besides, who is 
 to look after the farms and all the busi- 
 ness ? No, no, we must hang on and 
 trust to Providence. Things may come 
 round, something may happen, one can 
 never tell in this world." 
 
 "If we do not leave Honham, then 
 Honham will leave us," answered his 
 
92 COLOXEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 dauohter, with conviction. " I do not 
 believe in chances. Chances always go 
 the v/rong way — against those who are 
 looking for them. We shall be absolutely 
 ruined, that is all." 
 
 *' Well, perhaps you are right, perhaps 
 you are right, my dear," said the old 
 Squire wearily. " I only hope that my 
 time may come first. I have lived here all 
 my life, seventy years and more, and I know 
 that I could not live anywhere else. But 
 God's will be done. And now, my dear, 
 go to bed." 
 
 She leant down and kissed him, and 
 as she did so saw that his eyes were 
 filled with tears. Not trusting herself to 
 speak, for she felt for him too deeply to 
 do so, she turned away and went, leav- 
 ing the old man sitting^ there with his 
 grey head bowed upon his breast. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LAWYER QUEST. 
 
 The day following that of the conversation 
 just described was one of those glorious 
 autumn mornlno-s which sometimes come as 
 a faint compensation for the utter vlleness 
 and bitter disappointment of the season 
 that In this country we dignify by the 
 name of summer. Notwithstanding his 
 vigils and melancholy of the night before, 
 the Squire was up early, and Ida, who 
 between one thing and another had not 
 had the best of nights, heard his loud 
 cheery voice shouting about the place for 
 " George." 
 
 Looking out of her bedroom window, 
 she soon perceived that functionary him- 
 self, a long, lean, powerful-looking man 
 with a melancholy face and a twinkle in 
 
94 COLONEL QUARITCII, V.C. 
 
 his little grey eyes, hanging about the 
 front steps. Presently her father emerged 
 in a brilliant but ancient dressing-gown, 
 his white locks wavino- on the breeze. 
 
 o 
 
 "■ Here, George, where are you, 
 George ? " 
 
 " Here I be, sir." 
 
 '' Ah, yes ; then why don't you say 
 so ? I have been shouting myself hoarse 
 for you." 
 
 '* Yis, Squire," replied the imperturb- 
 able George, " I hev been a-standing here 
 for the last ten minutes, and I heard you." 
 
 "You heard me, then why the dickens 
 didn't you answer } " 
 
 '' Because I didn't think as you wanted 
 me, sir. I saw that you hadn't finished 
 your letter." 
 
 '' Well, then, you ought to. You know 
 very well that my chest is weak, and yet 
 I have to go hallooing all over the place 
 after you. Now look here, have you got 
 that fat pony of yours in the yard?" 
 
LAIVYER QUEST. 95 
 
 '' Yis, Squire, the pony is here, and if 
 so be as it is fat it bean't for the want of 
 movement." 
 
 " Very well, then, take this letter," and 
 he handed him an epistle sealed with a 
 tremendous seal, " take this letter to Mr. 
 Quest at Boisingham, and wait for an 
 answer. And look here, mind you are 
 about the place at eleven o'clock, for I 
 expect ]\Ir. Quest to see me about the 
 ]\Ioat Farm." 
 
 " Yis, Squire." 
 
 " I suppose that you have heard 
 nothing more from Janter, have you ? " 
 
 '' No, Squire, nawthing. He means to 
 git the place at his own price or chuck it." 
 
 '' And what is his price ? " 
 
 " Five shillings an acre. You see, sir, 
 it's this way. That army gent, ]\Iajor 
 Boston, as is agent for all the College 
 lands down the valley, he be a poor weak 
 fule, and when all these tinants come to 
 him and say that they must either hev 
 
96 COLOXEL (lUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 the land at five shillino-s an acre or oo, 
 he gits scared, he du, and down goes 
 the rent of some of the best meadow land 
 in the country from thirty-five shillings to 
 five. Of course it don't signify to him 
 not a halfpenny, the College must pay 
 him his salary all the same, and he don't 
 know no more about farming, nor land, 
 nor northing, than my old mare yinder. 
 Well, and what comes of it ? Of course 
 every tinant on the place hears that those 
 College lands be going for five shillings 
 an acre, and they prick up their ears and 
 say they must have their land at the 
 same figger, and it's all owing to that 
 Boston varmint, who ought to be kicked 
 through every holl on the place and then 
 drowned to dead in a dyke." 
 
 '' Yes, you're right there, George, that 
 silly man is a public enemy, and ought to 
 be treated as such, but the times are 
 very bad, with corn down to twenty-nine, 
 very bad." 
 
LAWYER QUEST. 97 
 
 '' I'm not a-saying that they ain't bad, 
 Squire," said his retainer, his long face 
 Hghting up ; " they are bad, cruel bad, 
 bad for iverybody. And I'm not deny- 
 ing that they is bad for the tinants, but 
 if they is bad for the tinants they is 
 wus for the landlord. It all comes on 
 his shoulders in the long run. If men 
 find that they can get land at five 
 shillings an acre that's worth twenty, why 
 it isn't in human natur to pay twenty, 
 and if they find that the landlord must 
 go as they drive him, of course they'll 
 lay on the whip. Why, bless you, sir, 
 when a tinant comes and says that he 
 is very sorry but he finds he can't pay 
 his rent, in nine cases out of ten, if you 
 could just look at that man's bank book, 
 you'd find that the bank was paid, the 
 tradesmen were paid, the doctor's paid, 
 iverybody's paid before he thinks about 
 his rent. Let the landlord suffer, because 
 he can't help hisself ; but Lord bless us, 
 VOL. I. 7 
 
98 COLONEL (JUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 if a hundred pounds were overdue to the 
 bank It would have the innards out of 
 him in no time, and he knows it. Now 
 as for that varmint, Janter, to tell me 
 that he can't pay fifteen shillings an acre 
 for the Moat Farm, is nonsense. I only- 
 wish I had the capital to take it at the 
 price, that I du." 
 
 *' Well, George," said the Squire, *' I 
 think that if it can be managed I shall 
 borrow the money and take the farm on 
 hand. I am not going to let Janter have 
 it at five shillings an acre." 
 
 " Ah, sir, that's the best way. Bad 
 as times be, it will go hard if I can't 
 make the interest and the rent out of it 
 too. Besides, Squire, if you give way 
 about this here farm, all the others will 
 come down on you. I'm not saying a word 
 agin your tinants, but where there's money 
 to be made you can't trust not no man." 
 
 ''Well, well," said the Squire, ''perhaps 
 you are right and perhaps you ain't. 
 
LAWYER QUEST. 99 
 
 Right or wrong, you always talk like 
 Solomon in all his glory. Anyway, be off 
 with that note and let me have the answer 
 as soon as you get back. Mind you don't 
 go loafing and jawing about down in 
 Boisingham, because I want my answer." 
 
 "So he means to borrow the money 
 if he can get it," said Ida to herself as 
 she sat, an invisible auditor, doing her 
 hair by the open window. "George can 
 do more with him in five minutes than I 
 can in a wesk, and I know that he hates 
 Janter. I believe Janter threw up the 
 farm because of his quarrelling with 
 George. Well, I suppose that we must 
 take our chance." 
 
 Meanwhile George had mounted his 
 cart and departed upon the road to Bois- 
 ingham, urging his fat pony along as 
 though he meant to be there in twenty 
 minutes. But so soon as he was well 
 out of reach of the Squire's shouts and 
 sight of the Castle gates, he deliberately 
 
loo COLONEL QUARITCH, I'.C. 
 
 turned up a bye lane and jogged along 
 for a mile or more to a farm, where he 
 had a long confabulation with a man 
 about thatching some ricks. Thence he 
 quietly made his way to his own little 
 place, where he proceeded to comfortably 
 get his breakfast, remarking to his wife 
 that he was of opinion that there was 
 no hurry about the Squire's letter, as 
 " laryers " wasn't in the habit of coming 
 to office at eight in the morning. 
 
 Breakfast over, the philosophic George 
 got into his cart, the fat pony having 
 been tied up outside, and leisurely drove 
 into the picturesque old town which lay 
 at the head of the valley. All along the 
 main street he met many acquaintances, 
 and with each he found it necessary to 
 stop and have a talk, indeed with two he 
 had a modest half-pint. At length, how 
 ever, his labour o'er, he arrived at Mr. 
 Quest's office, that, as all the Boisingham 
 world knows, was just opposite t;he ghurch, 
 
A 
 
 LAWYER QUEST. loi 
 
 of which Mr. Quest was one of the church- 
 wardens, and which but two years before 
 was beautifully restored, mainly owing to 
 his efforts and o-enerous contributions. 
 Driving up to the small and quiet-looking 
 doorway of a very unpretentious building, 
 George descended and knocked. There- 
 on a clerk opened the door, and in 
 answer to his inquiries informed him that 
 he believed Mr. Quest had just come 
 over to the office. 
 
 In another minute he was shown into 
 an inner room of the ordinary country 
 lawyer's office stamp, and there at the 
 table sat Mr. Quest himself 
 
 Mr. Quest was a man of about forty 
 years of age, rather under than over, with 
 a pale ascetic cast of face, and a quiet 
 and pleasant, though somewhat reserved, 
 manner. His features were in no way 
 remarkable, with the exception of his eyes, 
 which seemed to have been set in his 
 head owino- to some curious error of 
 
102 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 nature. For whereas his general tone 
 was clcirk, his hair in particular being jet 
 black, these eyes were grey, and jarred 
 extraordinarily upon their companion 
 features. For the rest, he was a man of 
 some presence and with the manners of 
 
 a gentleman. 
 
 ''Well, George," he said, ''what is it 
 that brings you to Bolsingham ? A letter 
 from the Squire. Thank you. Take a 
 seat, will you, while I look through it ? 
 Umph, wants me to come and see him 
 at eleven o'clock. I am very sorry, but 
 I can't manage that anyway. Ah, I see, 
 about the Moat Farm. Janter told me 
 that he was going to throw it up, and I 
 advised him to do nothino- of the sort, 
 but he is a dissatisfied sort of a fellow, 
 Janter is, and Major Boston has upset 
 the whole country side by his very ill- 
 advised action about the College lands." 
 
 "Janter is a warmint and Major Boston, 
 begging his pardon for the language. Is an 
 
LAWYER QUEST. 103 
 
 ass, sir. Anyway there It is, Jaiiter has 
 thrown up, and where I am to find a tinant 
 between now and ]\Iichaehnas I don't know ; 
 in fact, with the Colleae lands o-oingr at five 
 shillings an acre there ain't no chance." 
 
 " Then what does the Squire propose to 
 do — take the land in hand ? " 
 
 " Yis, sir, that's it ; and that's what he 
 wants to see you about." 
 
 *' ]\Iore money, I suppose," said Mr. 
 Quest. 
 
 " Well, yis, sir. You see there will be 
 the covenants to meet, and then the farm 
 is three hundred acres, and to stock it 
 proper as it should be means nine pounds 
 an acre quite, on this here heavy land." 
 
 '' Yes, yes, I know, a matter of four 
 thousand more or less, but where is it to 
 come from, that's the question ? Cossey's 
 do not like land now, any more than other 
 banks do. However, I'll see my principal 
 about it. But, George, I can't possibly 
 get up to the Castle at eleven. I have 
 
I04 COLONEL QUARJTCH, V.C. 
 
 got a churchwardens' meeting at a quarter 
 t3, about that west pinnacle, you know. 
 It is in a most dangerous condition, and 
 by-the-way, before you go I should like 
 to have your opinion, as a practical man, 
 as to the best way to deal with it. To 
 rebuild it would cost a hundred and 
 twenty pounds, and that Is more than we 
 see our way to at present, though I can 
 promise fifty if they can scrape up the 
 rest. But about the Squire. I think that 
 the best thing I can do will be to come 
 up to the Castle to lunch, and then I can 
 talk over matters with him. Stay, I will 
 just write him a note. By-the-way, you 
 would like a glass of wine, wouldn't you, 
 George ? Nonsense man, here it is in the 
 cupboard, a glass of wine is a good friend 
 to have handy sometimes." 
 
 George, who like most men of his stamp 
 could put away his share of liquor and feel 
 thankful for it, drank his glass of wine 
 while Mr. Quest was engaged in writing 
 
LAWYER QUEST. 105 
 
 the note, wondering meanwhile what made 
 the lawyer so civil to him. For George 
 did not like Mr. Quest. Indeed, It would 
 not be too much to say that he hated him. 
 But this was a feeling which he never 
 allowed to appear ; he was too much afraid 
 of the man for that, and in his queer way 
 too much devoted to the old Squire's In- 
 terests to run the risk of imperilling them 
 by the exhibition of any aversion to Mr. 
 Quest. He knew more of his master's 
 affairs than anybody living, unless perhaps 
 it was Mr. Quest himself, and was aware 
 that the lawyer held the old gentleman in 
 a bondage that could not be broken. 
 Now, George was a man with faults. He 
 was somewhat sly, and, perhaps within 
 certain lines, at times capable of giving the 
 word honesty a liberal interpretation. But 
 amongst many others he had one con- 
 spicuous virtue : he loved the old Squire as 
 a Highlandman loves his chief, and would 
 almost, if not quite, have died to serve him. 
 
io6 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 His billet was no easy one, for Mr. de la 
 Molle's temper was none of the best at times, 
 and when things went wrong, as they pretty 
 frequently did, he was exceedingly apt to 
 visit his wrath on the head of the devoted 
 George, saying things to him which he 
 should not have said. But his retainer 
 took it all in the day's work, and never 
 bore malice, continuing in his own cadging 
 pigheaded sort of way to labour early and 
 late to prop up his master's broken fortunes. 
 " Lord, sir," as he once said to Harold 
 Quarltch when the Colonel condoled with 
 him after a violent and unjust onslaught 
 made by the Squire in his presence, " Lord, 
 sir, that ain't nawthing, that ain't. I don't 
 pay no manner of heed to that. Folk du 
 say how as I wor made for he, like a safety 
 waive for a traction engine." 
 
 Indeed, had it not been for George's con- 
 trlvings and procrastinations, Honham Castle 
 and its owner would have parted company 
 long before. 
 
CHAPTER VH. 
 
 EDWARD COSSEV, ESQUIRE. 
 
 After George had drunk his glass of 
 wine and given his opinion as to the best 
 way to deal with the dangerous pinnacle 
 on the Boisingham Church, he took the 
 note, untied the fat pony, and ambled off 
 to Honham, leavino; the lawyer alone. 
 As soon as he was gone, Mr. Guest threw 
 himself back in his chair — an old oak one, 
 by-the-way, for he had a very pretty taste 
 in old oak and a positive mania for col- 
 lecting it — and plunged into a brown 
 study. 
 
 Presently he leant forward, unlocked the 
 top drawer of his writing table, and ex- 
 tracted from it a letter addressed to himself 
 which he had received that very morning. 
 It was from the principals of the great 
 
io8 COLONEL OUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 banking firm of Cossey and Sons, and 
 dated fi-om their head office in Mincing 
 Lane. This letter ran as follows : 
 
 '' Private and confidential. 
 
 '' Dear Sir, — 
 '' We have considered your report as to 
 the extensive mortgages which we hold 
 upon the Honham Castle estates, and have 
 allowed due weight to your arguments as 
 to the advisability of allowing Mr. de la 
 Molle time to give things a chance of 
 righting. But we must tell you that we 
 can see no prospect of any such solution of 
 the matter, at any rate for some years to 
 come. All the Information that we are able 
 to gather points to a further decrease In 
 the value of land rather than to a recovery. 
 The Interest on the mortgages In question 
 is moreover a year In arrear, probably 
 owing to the non-receipt of rents by Mr. 
 de la Molle. Under these circumstances, 
 much as It .grieves us to take action 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESORE. icq 
 
 against Mr. de la Molle, with whose family 
 we have had dealings for five generations, 
 we can see no alternative to foreclosure, 
 and hereby Instruct you to take the neces- 
 sary preliminary steps to bring It about 
 in the usual manner. \\'e are, presuming 
 that Mr. de la Molle Is not In a position 
 to pay off the mortgages, quite aware of 
 the risks of a forced sale, and shall not be 
 astonished if, in the present unprecedented 
 condition of the land market, such a sale 
 should result in a loss, although the sum 
 recoverable does not amount to half the 
 valuation of the estates, which was under- 
 taken at our Instance about twenty years 
 ap'O on the occasion of the first advance. 
 The only alternative, however, would be for 
 us to enter Into possession of the property 
 or to buy It In. But this would be a course 
 totally inconsistent with the usual practice 
 of the bank, and what Is more, our con- 
 fidence in the stability of landed property Is 
 so utterly shattered by our recent experl- 
 
:io COLOXEL (2UARITCH, V.C. 
 
 dices, that we cannot burden ourselves by 
 such a course, preferring to run the risk of 
 an immediate loss. This, however, we hope 
 that the historical character of the property 
 and its great natural advantages as a 
 residential estate will avert, or at the least 
 minimise. 
 
 *' Be so good as to advise us by an 
 early post of the steps you take in pur- 
 suance of these instructions. 
 ''We are, dear sir, 
 
 ''Your obedient servants, 
 
 " CossEY & Son. 
 "W. Quest, Esq. 
 
 " P.S. — We have thought it better to 
 address you direct in this matter, but of 
 course you will communicate the contents 
 of this letter to Mr. Edward Cossey, and 
 subject to our instructions, which are final, 
 act in consultation with him." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Guest to himself, as he 
 folded up the sheet of paper, " that is about 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESQRE. m 
 
 as Straight as It can be put. And this is 
 the time that the old gentleman chooses 
 to ask for another four thousand. He may 
 ask, but the answer will be more than 
 he bargains for." 
 
 He rose from the chair and began to walk 
 up and down the room in evident perplexity. 
 '* If only," he said, " I had twenty-five 
 thousand, I would take up the mortgages 
 myself and foreclose at my leisure. It 
 would be a good investment at that figure, 
 even as things are, and besides, I should 
 like to have that place. Twenty-five thou- 
 sand, only twenty-five thousand, and now 
 when I want it I have not got it. And I 
 should have had it if it had not been for 
 that tiger, that devil Edith. She has had 
 more than that out of me in the last ten 
 years, and still she is threatening and crying 
 for more, more, more. Tiger ; yes, that is 
 the name for her, her own name, too. She 
 would coin one's vitals into money if she 
 could. All Belle's fortune she has had, or 
 
112 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 nearly all, and most of my savings, and 
 now she wants another five hundred, and 
 she will have it too. 
 
 *' Here we are," and he drew a letter 
 fi-om his pocket written In a bold but 
 somewhat uneducated woman's hand. 
 
 *' Dear Bill," It ran, '' I've been un- 
 lucky again and dropped a pot. Shall 
 want ^500 by the ist October. No 
 shuffling, mind ; money down ; but I think 
 that you know me too well to play any 
 more larx. When can you tear yourself 
 
 away and come and give your E a 
 
 look ? Bring some tin when you come, 
 and we will have times. — Thine, The 
 Tiger." 
 
 '' The Tiger, yes, the Tiger," he gasped, 
 his face working with passion and his 
 grey eyes glinting as he tore the epistle 
 to fraoments, threw them down and 
 stamped on them. " Well, be careful that 
 I don't one day cut your claws and paint 
 your stripes. By heaven, If ever a, m^a 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESORE. 113 
 
 felt like murder, I do now. Five hundred 
 more, and I haven't five thousand clear 
 in the world. Truly we pay for the follies 
 of our youth ! It makes me mad to think 
 of those fools Cossey and Son forcing 
 that place into the market just now. 
 There's a fortune in it at the price. In 
 another year or two I might have re- 
 covered myself, that devil of a woman 
 might be dead — and I have several irons 
 in the fire, some of which are sure 
 to turn up trumps. Surely there must be 
 a way out of it somehow. There's a way 
 out of everything except Death if only 
 one thinks enouQ^h, but the thino; is to find 
 it," and he stopped in his walk opposite 
 to the window that looked upon the street, 
 and put his hand to his head. 
 
 As he did so , he caught sight of the 
 figure of a tall gentleman strolling idly 
 towards the office door. For a moment 
 he stared at him blankly, as a man does 
 when he is trying to catch the vague clue 
 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
114 CO LOS EL (lUARITCJI, J\C. 
 
 to ci new idea. Then, as the figure pissed 
 out of his view, he brouoht his fist down 
 heavily upon the sill. 
 
 " Edward Cossey, by George ! " he said 
 aloud. '' There's the way out of it, if only 
 I can work him, and unless I have made 
 a strange mistake, I think I know the 
 road." 
 
 A couple of minutes afterwards a tall, 
 shapely young man, of about twenty-four 
 or five years of age, came strolling into 
 the office where Mr. Quest was sitting, to 
 all appearance hard at work at his cor- 
 respondence. He was dark in complexion 
 and decidedly distinguished looking in 
 feature, with large dark eyes, dark 
 moustachios, and a pale, somewhat Spanish- 
 lookinof skin. Youno- as the face was, it 
 had, if observed closely, a somewhat worn 
 and worried air, such as one would 
 scarcely expect to see upon the coun- 
 tenance of a gentleman born to such 
 brilliant fortunes, and so well fitted by 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESQRE. 115 
 
 nature to do them justice, as was Mr. 
 Edward Cossey. For it is not every 
 young man with dark eyes and a good 
 fioure who is destined to be the future 
 head of one of the most wealthy private 
 banks in England, and to inherit in due 
 course a sum of money in hard cash 
 variously estimated at from half a million 
 to a million sterling. This, how^ever, was 
 the prospect in life that opened out before 
 Mr. Edward Cossey, who was now sup- 
 posed by his old and eminently business- 
 like father to be in process of acquiring 
 a sound knowledge of the provincial 
 affairs of the house by attending to the 
 working of their branch establishments in 
 the Eastern counties. 
 
 ''How do you do, Quest?" said Edward 
 Cossey, nodding somewhat coldly to the law- 
 yer and sitting down. " Any business ? " 
 
 '' Well, yes, Mr. Cossey," answered the 
 lawyer, rising respectfully, " there is some 
 business, some very serious business." 
 
 8—2 
 
Ii6 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 " Indeed," said Edward indifferently, 
 "• what is it ? " 
 
 " Well, it is this, the house has ordered 
 a foreclosure on the Honham Castle 
 estates — at least it comes to that " 
 
 On hearing this intelligence Edward 
 Cossey s whole demeanour underwent the 
 most startling transformation — his languor 
 vanished, his eye brightened, and his 
 form became instinct with active life and 
 beauty. 
 
 *'What the deuce," he said, and then 
 paused. '' I w^on't have it," he went on, 
 jumping up, " I won't have it. I am not 
 particularly fond of old de la Molle, per- 
 haps because he is not particularly fond 
 of me," he added rather drolly, " but it 
 would be an infernal shame to break up 
 that family and sell the house over them. 
 Why they would be ruined ! And then 
 there's Ida — Miss de la Molle, I mean — • 
 what w^ould become of her '^, And the old 
 place too. After being in the family for all 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESQRE, 117 
 
 these centuries I suppose that it would be sold 
 to some confounded counter-skipper or some 
 retired thief of a lawyer. It must be pre- 
 vented at any price — do you hear, Quest ? " 
 
 The lawyer winced a little at his chiefs 
 contemptuous allusion, and then remarked 
 with a smile, '' I had no idea that you 
 were so sentimental, Mr. Cossey, or that 
 you took such a lively interest in Miss de 
 la Molle," and he glanced up to observe 
 the effect of his shot. 
 
 Edward Cossey coloured. '' I did not 
 mean that I took any particular interest in 
 Miss de la Molle," he said, '' I was re- 
 ferring to the family." 
 
 '' Oh, quite so, though I am sure I 
 don't know why you shouldn't. Miss de 
 la Molle is one of the most charming 
 women that I ever met, I think the most 
 charming, if I except my own wife Belle," 
 and he again looked up suddenly at 
 Edward Cossey who, for his part, coloured 
 for the second time. 
 
ii8 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 "It seems to me," went on the lawyer, 
 "that a man in your position has a most 
 splendid opportunity of playing knight 
 errant to the lovely damsel In distress. 
 Here is the lady with her aged father 
 about to be sold up and turned out of the 
 estates which have belonged to her family 
 for generations — why don't you do the 
 generous and graceful thing, like the hero 
 in a novel, and take up the mortgages ? " 
 
 Edward Cossey did not reject this sug- 
 gestion with the contempt that might have 
 been expected ; on the contrary he appeared 
 to be turning the matter over in his mind, 
 for he drummed a little tune with his 
 knuckles and stared out of the window. 
 
 "What is the sum?" he said presently. 
 
 " Five -and -twenty thousand, and he 
 wants four more, say thirty thousand." 
 
 " And where am I going to find thirty 
 thousand pounds to take up a bundle of 
 mortgages which will probably never pay 
 a farthing of interest ? Why, I have not 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESQRE. 119 
 
 got three thousand that I can come at. Be- 
 sides," he added, recollecting himself, ''why 
 should I Interfere ? " 
 
 '' I do not think," answered ^Iv. Quest, 
 Ignoring the latter part of the question, 
 '* that with your prospects you would find 
 It difficult to get thirty thousand pounds. 
 I know several who would consider It an 
 honour to lend the money to a Cossey, If 
 only for the sake of the Introduction — • 
 that Is, of course, provided the security was 
 of a legal nature." 
 
 " Let me see the letter," said Edward. 
 
 Mr. Quest handed him the document 
 conveying the commands of Cossey and 
 Sons, and he read It throu^'h twice. 
 
 " The old man means business." he said, 
 as he returned It ; " that letter was written 
 by him, and when he has once made up 
 his mind It Is useless to try and stir him. 
 Did you say that you were going to see 
 the Squire to-day ? " 
 
 " No, I did not say so, but as a matter 
 
of fact I am. His man, George — a shrewd 
 fellow, by the way, for one of these bump- 
 kins — came with a letter asking me to go 
 up to the Castle, so I shall get round there 
 to lunch. It Is about this fresh loan that 
 the old gentleman wishes to negotiate. Of 
 course I shall be obliged to tell him that 
 instead of giving a fresh loan we have 
 orders to serve a notice on him." 
 
 " Don't do that just yet," said Edward 
 with decision. '' Write to the house and 
 say that their instructions shall be attended 
 to. There is no hurry about the notice, 
 though I don't see how I am to help in 
 the matter. Indeed there is no call upon 
 me. 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Cossey. And now, 
 by the way, are you going to the Castle 
 this afternoon ? " 
 
 '' Yes. I believe so. Why ? " 
 
 '' Well, I want to get up there to lun- 
 cheon, and I am in a fix. Mrs. Quest will 
 want the trap to go there this afternoon. 
 
EDWARD COSSEY, ESQRE. 121 
 
 Can you lend me your dogcart to drive up 
 in ? And then perhaps you would not mind 
 If she gave you a lift this afternoon." 
 
 ''Very well," answered Edward, "that Is 
 If It suits ^Irs. Quest. Perhaps she may 
 object to carting me about the country." 
 
 '' I have not observed any such reluct- 
 ance on her part," said the lawyer dryly, 
 " but we can easily settle the question. I 
 must go home to get some plans before I 
 attend the vestrv meetino- about that pln- 
 nacle. Will you step across with me and 
 we can ask her ^ " 
 
 " Oh yes," he answered. " I have no- 
 thing particular to do." 
 
 xA.nd accordingly, as soon as Mr. Quest 
 had made some small arrangements and 
 given particular directions to his clerks as 
 to his whereabouts for the day, they set off 
 together for the lawyer's private house. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MR. quest's wife. 
 
 Mr. Quest lived in one of those ugly but 
 comfortably-built old red brick houses 
 which abound in almost every country 
 town, and which give us the clearest 
 possible idea of the want of taste and love 
 of material comfort that characterised the 
 age in which they were built. This 
 house looked out on to the market place, 
 and had a charming old walled garden at 
 the back, famous for its nectarines, which, 
 together with the lawn tennis court, was, 
 as Mrs. Quest would say, almost enough 
 to console her for living in a town. The 
 front door, however, was only separated by 
 a litde flight of steps from the pavement 
 upon which the house abutted. 
 
 Entering a large, cool-looking hall, Mr. 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 123 
 
 Quest paused and asked a servant who 
 was passing where her mistress was. 
 
 "In the drawing-room, sir," said the 
 girl ; and, followed by Edward Cossey, he 
 walked down a long panelled passage till 
 he reached a door on the left. This he 
 opened quickly and passed through into a 
 charming, modern - looking room, hand- 
 somely and even luxuriously furnished, and 
 lighted by French w^Indows opening on to 
 the walled garden. 
 
 A little lady dressed in some black 
 material was standlno^ at one of these 
 windows, her arms crossed behind her 
 back, and absently gazing out of it. At 
 the sound of the opening door she turned 
 swiftly, her whole delicate and lovely face 
 lighting up like a flower In a ray of sun- 
 shine, the lips slightly parted, and a deep 
 and happy light shining In her violet eyes. 
 Then, all in an Instant, It was instructive 
 to observe hozo Instantaneously, her glance 
 fell upon her husband (for the lady was 
 
124 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Mrs. Quest) and her entire expression 
 changed to one of cold aversion, the light 
 fading out of her face as it does from a 
 November sky, and leaving it cold and 
 hard. 
 
 Mr. Quest, who was a man who saw 
 everything, saw this also, and smiled 
 bitterly. 
 
 ^* Don't be alarmed, Belle," he said In a 
 low voice ; ''I have brought Mr. Cossey 
 with me." 
 
 She flushed up to the eyes, a great 
 wave of colour, and her breast heaved ; 
 but before she could answer, Edward 
 Cossey, who had stopped behind to wipe 
 some mud off his shoes, entered the room, 
 and politely offered his hand to Mrs. 
 Quest, who took It coldly enough.. 
 
 '' You are an early visitor, Mr. Cossey," 
 she said. 
 
 " Yes," said her husband, '' but the fault 
 Is mine. I have brought Mr. Cossey over 
 to ask If you can give him a lift up 
 
MR. QUESTS WIFE. 125 
 
 to the Castle this afternoon. I have to go 
 there to lunch, and have borrowed his 
 dogcart." 
 
 " Oh yes, with pleasure. But why can't 
 the dogcart come back for Mr. Cossey ? " 
 
 " Well, you see," put in Edward, 
 " there is a little difficulty ; my groom^ is 
 ill. But there is really no reason why 
 you should be bothered. I have no doubt 
 that a man can be found to bring it back." 
 
 "Oh no," she said, with a shrug, "it 
 will be all right ; only you had better 
 lunch here, that's all, because I w^ant to 
 start early, and go to an old woman's 
 at the other end of Honham about some 
 fuchsia cuttings." 
 
 " I shall be very happy," said he. 
 
 " Very well, then, that is settled," said 
 Mr. Quest, " and now I must get my 
 plans and be off to the vestry meeting. 
 I'm late as it is. With your permission, 
 Mr. Cossey, I will order the dogcart as 
 I pass your rooms." 
 
126 COLONEL (lUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 '' Certainly," said Edward, and In 
 another moment the lawyer was gone. 
 
 Mrs. Quest watched the door close and 
 then sat down In a low armchair, and 
 resting her head upon the back, looked 
 up with a steady, enquiring gaze, full Into 
 Edward Cossey's face. 
 
 And he too looked at her and thought 
 what a beautiful woman she was. In her 
 own way. She was very small, rounded 
 In her figure almost to stoutness, and 
 possessed the tiniest and most beautiful 
 hands and feet. But her greatest charm 
 lay In the face, which was almost Infan- 
 tile In Its shape, and delicate as a moss 
 rose. She was exquisitely fair In colouring 
 — Indeed, the darkest things about her 
 were her violet eyes, which In some 
 lights looked almost black by contrast with 
 her white forehead and waving auburn 
 hair. 
 
 Presently she spoke. 
 
 ^' Has my husband gone 1 " she said. 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 127 
 
 " I suppose SO. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Because from what I know of his 
 habits I should think it very Hkely that 
 he is hsteninof behind the door," and she 
 laughed faintly. 
 
 " You seem to have a good opinion of 
 him." 
 
 *' I have exactly the opinion of him 
 which he deserves," she said bitterly ; 
 " and my opinion of him is that he is 
 one of the wickedest men in England." 
 
 *' If he is behind the door he will 
 enjoy that," said Edward Cossey. " Well, 
 if he is all this, why did you marry 
 him ? " 
 
 '' Why did I marry him ? " she 
 answered, with passion, "because I was 
 forced into it, bullied into it, starved 
 into it. What would you do if you were 
 a defenceless, motherless girl of eighteen, 
 with a drunken father who beat you — 
 yes, beat you with a stick — apologised in 
 the most gentlemanlike way next morning 
 
128 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 and then went and got drunk again ? 
 And what would you do if that fether 
 were in the hands of a man Hke my 
 husband, body and soul in his hands, 
 and if between them pressure was brought 
 to bear, and brought to bear until at 
 last — there, what is the good of going on 
 with it — you can guess the rest." 
 
 '' Well, and what did he marry you 
 for — your pretty face ? " 
 
 '' I don't know ; he said so ; it may 
 have had something to do w^ith it. I 
 think it was my ten thousand pounds, 
 for once I had a whole ten thousand 
 pounds of my own, my poor mother left 
 it me, and it was tied up so that my 
 father could not touch it. Well, of 
 course, when I married, my husband would 
 not have any settlements, and so he took 
 it, every farthing." 
 
 '' And what did he do with it ? " 
 
 '* Spent it upon some other woman in 
 London — most of it. I found him out ; 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 129 
 
 he gave her thousands of pounds at 
 once." 
 
 " Well, I should not have thought that 
 he was so generous," he said, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 She paused a moment and covered her 
 face Vv'ith her hand, and then went on : 
 "If you only knew, Edward, if you had 
 the faintest idea what my life was till a 
 year and a half ago, when I first saw 
 you, you would pity me and understand 
 why I am bad, and passionate, and 
 jealous, and everything that I ought not 
 to be. I never had any happiness as a 
 girl — how could I in such a home as 
 ours ? — and then almost before I was a 
 w^oman I was handed over to that man. 
 Oh, how I hated him, and what I en- 
 dured ! " 
 
 " Yes, it can't have been very pleasant." 
 
 '' Pleasant — but there, we have done 
 
 with each other now — we don't even 
 
 speak much except in public, that's my 
 
 VOL. \. 9 
 
I30 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 price for holding my tongue about the 
 lady in London and one or two other 
 little things — so what is the use of talk- 
 ing of it ? It w^as a horrible nightmare, 
 but It has gone. And then," she went 
 on, fixing her beautiful eyes upon his face, 
 '' then I saw you, Edward, and for the 
 first time in my life I learnt what love 
 was, and I think that no woman ever 
 loved like that before. Other women 
 have had something to care for in their 
 lives, I never had anything till I saw you. 
 It may be wicked, but It's true." 
 
 He turned slightly away and said 
 nothing. 
 
 '' And yet, dear," she went on In a low 
 voice, " I think it has been one of the 
 hardest things of all — my love for you. 
 For, Edward," and she rose and took his 
 hand and looked Into his face with her 
 soft eyes full of tears, '' I should have 
 liked to be a blessing to you and not a 
 curse, and — and — a cause of sin. Oh, Ed-» 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 131 
 
 ward, I should have made you such a 
 good wife, no man could have had a better, 
 and I would have helped you too, for I 
 am not such a fool as I seem, and now 
 I shall do nothing but bring trouble upon 
 you ; I know I shall. And it was my 
 fault too, at least most of it ; don't 
 ever think that I deceive myself, for I 
 don't ; I led you on, I know I did, I 
 meant to — there ! Think me as shame- 
 less as you like, I meant to from the first. 
 And no good can come of it, I know 
 that, although I would not have it un- 
 done. No good can ever come of what 
 is wrong. I may be very wicked, but I 
 
 know that " and she began to cry 
 
 outright. 
 
 This was too much for Edward Cossey, 
 who, as any man must, had been much 
 touched by this unexpected outburst. 
 '' Look here, Belle," he blurted out on 
 the impulse of the moment, '' I am sick 
 and tired of all this sort of thing. For 
 
 9—2 
 
132 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 more than a year my life has been nothing 
 but a Hvlno- He, and I can't stand It, and 
 that's a fact. I tell you what It is : I 
 think we had better just take the train to 
 Paris and go off at once, or else give It 
 all up. It is Impossible to go on living 
 In this atmosphere of continual falsehood." 
 
 She stopped crying. '* Do you really 
 care for me enough for that, Edward ? " 
 she said. 
 
 '' Yes, yes," he said, somewhat im- 
 patiently, " you can see I do or I should 
 not make the offer. Say the word and 
 I'll do It." 
 
 She thought for a moment, and then 
 looked up again. '' No," she said, '' no, 
 Edward." 
 
 '' Why ? " he asked. '' Are you afraid ? " 
 
 *' Afraid ! " she answered, with a gesture 
 of contempt, *'what have I to be afraid of? 
 Do you suppose that such women as I 
 am have any care for consequences ? We 
 have got beyond that — that Is, for our- 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 133 
 
 selves. But we can still feel a little for 
 others. It would ruin you to do such a 
 thing, socially and in every other way. 
 You know you have often said that your 
 father would cut you out of his will if 
 you compromised yourself and him like 
 that." 
 
 ** Oh, yes, he would. I am sure of it. 
 He would never forgive the scandal ; 
 he has a hatred of that sort of thing. 
 But I could get a few thousands ready 
 money, and we could change our names 
 and go off to a colony or something." 
 
 "It is very good of you to say so," she 
 said humbly. ** I don't deserve it, and I 
 will not take advantage of you. You will 
 be sorry that you made the offer by to- 
 morrow. Ah, yes, I know it is only 
 because I cried. No, we must go on as 
 we are until the end comes, and then you 
 can discard me ; for all the blame will 
 follow me, and I shall deserve it, too. 
 I am older than you, you know, and a 
 
134 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 woman ; and my husband will make some 
 money out of you, and then It will all be 
 forgotten, and I shall have had my day 
 and go my own way to oblivion, like 
 thousands of other unfortunate women 
 before me, and It will all be the same a 
 hundred years hence, don't you see ? But, 
 Edward, remember one thing. Don't play 
 me any tricks, for I am not of the sort to 
 bear It. Have patience and wait for the 
 end ; these things cannot last very long, 
 and I shall never be a burden on you. 
 Don't desert me or make me jealous, for I 
 cannot bear It, I cannot. Indeed, and I do 
 not know what I might do — make a 
 scandal or kill myself or you, I'm sure I 
 can't say what. You nearly sent me wild 
 the other day when you were carrying on 
 with Miss de la Molle — ah, yes, I saw it 
 all — I have suspected you for a- long time, 
 and sometimes I think that you are really 
 in love with her. And now, sir, I tell you 
 what it is, we have had enough of this 
 
MR. QUEST'S WIFE. 135 
 
 melancholy talk to last me for a month, 
 Why did you come here at all this morn- 
 ing, just when I wanted to get you out 
 of my head for an hour or two and think 
 about my garden ? I suppose it was a 
 trick of Mr. Quest's brinoino- you here. 
 He has got some fresh scheme on, I am 
 sure of it from his face. Well, it can't be 
 helped, and since you are here, Mr. 
 Edward Cossey, tell me how you like my 
 new dress," and she posed herself and 
 courtesied before him. '' Black, you see, to 
 match my sins and show^ off my com- 
 plexion. Doesn't it fit well ? " 
 
 "Charmingly," he said, laughing in 
 spite of himself, for he felt in no laughing 
 mood, "and now I tell you what it is, Belle, 
 I am not going to stop here all the morn- 
 ing, and lunch, and that sort of thing. 
 It does not look well, to say the least of 
 it. The probability is that half the old 
 women in Boisingham have got their eyes 
 fixed on the hall door to see how long I 
 
136 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, J'C. 
 
 Stay. I shall go clown to the office and 
 come back at half past two." 
 
 " A very nice excuse to get rid of me," 
 she said, '' but I daresay you are right, 
 and I want to see about the garden. 
 There, good-bye, and mind you are not 
 late, for I want to have a nice drive round 
 to the Castle. Not that there Is much 
 need to warn you to be in time when you 
 are going to see Miss de la Molle, is 
 there } Good-bye, good-bye." 
 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF RUIX. 
 
 Mr. Quest walked to his vestry meeting 
 with a smile upon his thin, gentlemanly- 
 looking face, and rage and bitterness in 
 his heart. ' 
 
 '' I caught her that time," he said to 
 himself; " she can do a good deal In the 
 way of deceit, but she can't keep the blood 
 out of her cheeks when she hears that 
 fellow's name. But she Is a clever 
 woman. Belle Is — how well she managed 
 that little business of the luncheon, and 
 how well she fouoht her case when once 
 she got me In a cleft stick about Edith 
 and that money of hers, and made good 
 terms too. x\h ! that's the worst of It, she 
 has the whip hand of me there ; if I could 
 ruin her she could ruin me, and It's no 
 
138 COLONEL QUARJTCH, V.C. 
 
 use cutting off one's nose to spite your 
 face. Well ! my fine lady," he went on 
 with an ominous flash of his grey eyes, '' I 
 shall be even with you yet. Give you 
 enough rope and you will hang yourself. 
 You love this fellow, I know that, and it 
 will go hard if I can't make him break 
 your heart for you. Bah ! you don't know 
 the sort of stuff men are made of. If 
 only I did not happen to be in love with 
 
 you myself I should not care. If 
 
 Ah! here I am at the church." 
 
 The human animal is a very compli- 
 cated machine, and can conduct the 
 working of an extraordinary number of 
 different interests and sets of ideas, 
 almost, if not entirely, simultaneously. 
 For instance, Mr. Quest — seated at the 
 right hand of the rector in the vestry 
 room of the beautiful old Boisingham 
 Church, and engaged in an animated and 
 even warm discussion with the senior 
 curate on the details of fourteenth century 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 139 
 
 Church work, In which he clearly took a 
 lively Interest and understood far better 
 than did the curate — would have been 
 exceedingly difficult to Identify with the 
 scheming vindictive creature whom we have 
 just followed up the church path. But 
 after all, that Is the way of human 
 nature, although It may not be the way 
 of those who try to draw it and who love 
 to paint the villain black as the Evil One 
 and the virtuous heroine so radiant that 
 we begin to fancy we can hear the whisper- 
 ing of her wings. Few people are alto- 
 gether good or altogether bad ; indeed It 
 Is probable that the vast majority are 
 neither good nor bad — they have not the 
 strength to be the one or the other. 
 Here and there, however, we do meet a 
 spirit with sufficient will and originality to 
 press the scale down this way or that, 
 though even then the opposing force, be It 
 good or evil, is constantly striving to bring 
 the balance equal. Even the most wicked 
 
I40 COLONEL QUARITCH, l\C. 
 
 men have their redeeming points and 
 their righteous instincts, nor are their 
 thoughts continually fixed upon Iniquity. 
 Mr. Quest, for instance, one of the evil 
 geniuses of this history, was, where his 
 plots and passions were not immediately 
 concerned, a man of eminently generous 
 and refined tendencies. Many were the 
 good turns, contradictory as it may seem, 
 that he had done to his poorer neigh- 
 bours ; he had even been known to forego 
 his bills of costs, which is about the 
 highest and rarest exhibition of earthly 
 virtue that can be expected from a lawyer. 
 He was moreover eminently a cultured 
 man, a reader of the classics, in translations 
 if not In the originals, a man w^ith a fine 
 taste in fiction and poetry, and a really 
 sound and ripe archaeological knowledge, 
 especially where sacred buildings were 
 concerned. All his Instincts, also, were 
 towards respectability. His most burn- 
 ing ambition was to secure a high 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIX. 141 
 
 position in the county in which he Hved, 
 and to be classed among the resident 
 gentry. He hated his lawyer's work, and 
 longed to accumulate sufficient means to 
 be able to give it the good-bye and to in- 
 dulge himself in an existence of luxurious 
 and learned leisure. Such as he was he 
 had made himself, for he was the son of a 
 poor and inferior country dentist, and had 
 begun life with a good education, it is true, 
 which he chiefly owed to his own exer- 
 tions, but with nothing else. Had his 
 nature been a temperate nature, with a 
 balance of good to its credit to draw upon, 
 instead of a balance of evil, he was a man 
 who might have gone very far indeed, for 
 in addition to his natural ability he had a 
 great power of work. But unfortunately 
 this was not the case ; his instincts on the 
 whole were evil instincts, and his passions 
 — whether of hate, or love, or greed, 
 when they seized him did so with extra- 
 ordinary violence, rendering him for the 
 
142 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 time being utterly callous to the rights or 
 feelings of others, provided that he at- 
 tained his end. In short, had he been 
 born to a good position and large fortune, 
 it is quite possible, providing always that 
 his strong passions had not at some period 
 of his life led him irremediably astray, that 
 he would have lived virtuous and re- 
 spected, and died in good odour, leaving 
 behind him a happy memory. But fate 
 had placed him in antagonism with the 
 world, and yet had endowed him with a 
 gnawing desire to be of the world, as it 
 appeared most desirable to him ; and then, 
 to complete his ruin circumstances had 
 thrown him into temptations from which 
 inexperience and the headlong strength of 
 his passions gave him no opportunity to 
 escape. 
 
 It may at first appear strange that a 
 man so calculating and whose desires 
 seemed to be fixed upon such a material 
 end as the acquirement by artifice or even 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 143 
 
 fraud of the wealth which he coveted, 
 should also nourish in his heart so bitter 
 a hatred and so keen a thirst for revenue 
 upon a woman as ^Ir. Quest undoubtedly 
 did towards his beautiful wife. It would 
 have seemed more probable that he would 
 have left heroics alone and attempted to 
 turn his wife's folly into a means of wealth 
 and self-advancement : and this would no 
 doubt have been so had Mrs. Quest's esti- 
 mate of his motives in marrying her been 
 an entirely correct one. She had told 
 Edward Cossey, it will be remembered, 
 that her husband had married her for her 
 money — the ten thousand pounds of which 
 he stood so badly in need. Now this was 
 the truth to a certain extent, and a certain 
 extent only. He had wanted the ten 
 thousand pounds, in fact at the moment 
 money was necessary to him. But, and 
 this his wife had never known or realised, 
 he had been, and still was, also in love 
 with her. Possibly the ten thousand 
 
144 COLONEL (2UARITCH, V.C. 
 
 pounds would have proved a sufficient 
 Inducement to him without the love, but 
 the love was none the less there. Their 
 relations, however, had never been happy- 
 ones. She had detested him from the first, 
 and had not spared to say so. No man 
 with any refinement — and whatever he 
 lacked Mr. Quest had refinement — could 
 bear to be thus continually repulsed by a 
 woman, and so it came to pass that their 
 intercourse had always been of the most 
 strained nature. Then when she at last 
 had obtained the clue to the secret of his 
 life, under threat of exposure she drove 
 her bargain, of which the terms were com- 
 plete separation in all but outward form, 
 and virtual freedom of action for herself 
 This, considering the position, she was 
 perhaps justified in doing, but her husband 
 never forgave her for it. More than that, 
 he determined, if by any means it were 
 possible, to turn the passion which, 
 although she did not know it, he was per^ 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 145 
 
 fectly aware she bore towards his business 
 superior, Edward Cossey, to a refined 
 instrument of vengeance against her, with 
 what success it will be one of the purposes 
 of this history to show. 
 
 Such, put as briefly as possible, w^ere the 
 outlines of the character and aims of this 
 remarkable and contradictory man. 
 
 Within an hour and a half of leaving 
 his own house, '' The Oaks," as it was 
 called, although the trees from which it 
 had been so named had long since van- 
 ished from the garden, Mr. Quest was bowl- 
 ing swiftly along behind Edward Cossey's 
 powerful bay horse towards the towering 
 gateway of Honham Castle. When he was 
 within three hundred yards an idea struck 
 him ; he pulled the horse up sharply, for 
 he was alone in the dogcart, and paused 
 to admire the view. 
 
 " What a beautiful place ! " he reflected to 
 himself with enthusiasm, "and how grandly 
 those old towers stand out against the 
 
 VOL. I. ' 10 
 
146 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 sky. The Squire has restored them very 
 well, too, there is no doubt about it ; I 
 could not have done it better myself. I 
 wonder if that place will ever be mine. 
 Things look black now, but they may come 
 round, and I think I am beginning to 
 see my way." 
 
 And then he started the horse on 
 again, reflecting on the unpleasant nature 
 of the business before him. Personally he 
 both liked and respected the old Squire, 
 and he certainly pitied him, though he would 
 no more have dreamed of allowing his 
 liking and pity to interfere with the pro- 
 secution of his schemes, than an ardent 
 sportsman would dream of not shooting 
 pheasants because he had happened to 
 take a friendly interest in their nurture. 
 He had also a certain gentlemanlike distaste 
 to being the bearer of crushing bad news, 
 for Mr. Quest disliked scenes, possibly 
 because he had such an intimate personal 
 acquaintance with them. Whilst he was 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 147 
 
 Still wonderlngf how he mioht best deal with 
 the matter, he passed over the moat and 
 through the ancient gateway which he ad- 
 mired so fervently, and found himself in front 
 of the hall door. Here he pulled up, look- 
 ing about for somebody to take his horse, 
 when suddenly the Squire himself emerged 
 upon him with a rush. 
 
 '' Hullo, Quest, is that you } " he shouted, 
 as though his visitor had been fifty yards 
 off instead of five. " I have been looking 
 out for you. Here, William ! William ! " 
 (crescendo), "William!" (fortissimo), "where 
 on earth is the boy ? I expect that idle 
 fellow, George, has been sending him on 
 some of his errands instead of attending to 
 them himself Whenever he is wanted to 
 take a horse he is nowhere to be found, 
 and then it is ' Please, sir, Mr. George,' 
 that's what he calls him, ' Please, sir, Mr. 
 George sent me up to the Moat Farm or 
 somewhere to see how many eggs the 
 hens laid last week,' or something of 
 
 10—2 
 
148 COLONEL OUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 the sort. That's a very nice horse you 
 have got there, by the way, very nice 
 Indeed." 
 
 " It is not my horse, Mr. de la Molle," 
 said the lawyer, with a faint smile, '' it is 
 Mr. Edward Cossey's." 
 
 **Oh! it's Mr. Edward Cossey's, is it?" 
 answered the old gentleman, with a sudden 
 change of voice. *' Ah, Mr. Edward 
 Cossey's '^. Well, it's a very good horse 
 anyhow, and I suppose that Mr. Cossey 
 can afford to buy good horses." 
 
 Just then a faint cry of " Coming, sir, 
 coming," was heard, and a long hobble-de- 
 hoy kind of youth, whose business it was 
 to look after the not extensive Castle 
 stables, emerged in a great heat from 
 round the corner of the house. 
 
 '' Now, where on earth have you been ? " 
 began the Squire, in a stentorian tone. 
 
 "If you please, sir, Mr. George " 
 
 **. There, what did I tell you .^ " broke 
 in the Squire: " Have I not told you 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 149 
 
 time after time that you are to mind your 
 own business, and leave ' Mr. George ' to 
 mind his ? Now take that horse round 
 to the stables, and see that it Is 
 properly fed. 
 
 '' Come In, Quest, come In. We have 
 a quarter of an hour before luncheon, and 
 can get our business over," and he led the 
 way through the passage Into the tapes- 
 trie and panelled vestibule, where he took 
 his stand before the empty fireplace. 
 
 Vlx. Que§t followed him, stopping, osten- 
 sibly to admire a particularly fine suit of 
 armour which hung upon the wall, but 
 really to gain another moment for reflection. 
 
 '' A beautiful suit of the early Stuart 
 period, Mr. de la i\Iolle," he said ; '' I never 
 saw a better." 
 
 ''Yes, yes, that belonged to old Sir 
 James, the one whom the Roundheads 
 shot." 
 
 ' What ! the Sir James who hid the 
 
 reasure 1 " 
 
I50 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 " Yes. I was telling that story to our 
 new neighbour, Colonel Ouaritch, last night 
 ■ — a very nice fellow, by the way ; you 
 should go and call upon him." 
 
 " I wonder what he did with it," said 
 Mr. Quest. 
 
 **Ah, so do I, and so will many another, 
 I dare say. I wish that I could find it, 
 I'm sure. It's wanted badly enough now- 
 a-days. But that reminds me. Quest. You 
 will have gathered my difficulty from my 
 note and what George told you. You see 
 this man, Janter — thanks to that confounded 
 fellow, Major Bolton, and his action 
 about those college lands — has thrown up 
 the Moat Farm, and George tells me 
 that there is not another tenant to be had 
 for love or money. In fact, you know 
 what it is, one can't get tenants now-a- 
 days, they simply are not to be had. Well, 
 under these circumstances, there is, of 
 course, only one thing to be done that I 
 know of, and that is to take the farm in 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 151 
 
 hand and farm it myself. It is quite im- 
 possible to let the place fall out of cultiva- 
 tion — and that is what would happen 
 otherwise, for if I were to lay it down in 
 grass it would cost a considerable sum, 
 and be seven or eight years before I got 
 any return." 
 
 The Squire paused and Mr. Quest said 
 nothing. 
 
 *'Well," he went on, ''that being so, 
 the next thine to do is to obtain the neces- 
 sary cash to pay Janter his valuation and 
 stock the place — about four thousand would 
 do it, or perhaps," he added, with an 
 access of generous confidence, '' we had 
 better say five. There are about fifty acres 
 of those low-lying meadows which want to 
 be thoroughly bush drained — bushes are 
 quite as good as pipes for that stiff land, 
 if they put in the right sort of stuff, and 
 it don't cost half so much — but still it can't 
 be done for nothing, and then there is a 
 new wagon shed wanted, and some odds 
 
152 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 and ends ; yes, we had better say five 
 thousand." 
 
 Still Mr. Quest made no answer, so 
 once more the Squire went on. 
 
 *' Well, you see, under these circum- 
 stances — ^not being able to lay hands upon 
 the necessary capital from my private re- 
 sources, of course I have made up my mind 
 to apply to Cossey and Son for the loan. 
 Indeed, considering how long and intimate 
 has been the connection between their 
 house and the de la Molle family, I think 
 it right and proper to do so ; indeed, I 
 should consider it very wrong of me if I 
 neglected to give them the opportunity of 
 the investment " — here a faint smile flick- 
 ered for an instant on Mr. Quest's face and 
 then went out — ^''of course they will, as a 
 matter of business, require security, and 
 very properly so, but as this estate is 
 unentailed, there will fortunately be little 
 difficulty about that. You can draw up the 
 necessary deeds, and I think that under 
 
*-■ THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 153 
 
 the circumstances the right thing to do 
 would be to charge the Moat Farm speci- 
 fically with the amount. Things are bad 
 enough, no doubt, but I can hardly sup- 
 pose it possible under any conceivable 
 circumstances that the farm would not be 
 good for five thousand pounds. However, 
 they might perhaps prefer to have a general 
 clause as well, and if it is so, although I 
 consider it quite unnecessary, I shall raise 
 no objection to that course." 
 
 Then at last Mr. Quest broke his 
 somewhat ominous silence. 
 
 '' I am very sorry to say, Mr. de la 
 Molle," he said, gently, *' that I can hold 
 out no prospect of Cossey and Son being- 
 induced, under any circumstances, to 
 advance another pound upon the security 
 of the Honham Castle estates. Their 
 opinion of the value of landed property 
 as security has received so severe a shock, 
 that they are not at all comfortable as to 
 the safety of the amount already invested." 
 
154 COLONEL (lUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Mr. dc la Molle started when he heard 
 this most unexpected bit of news, for 
 which he w^as totally unprepared. He 
 had always found it possible to borrow 
 money, and it had never occurred to him 
 that a time might perhaps come in this 
 country, when the land, which he held in 
 almost superstitious veneration, would be 
 so valueless a form of property that 
 lenders would refuse it as security. 
 
 ''Why," he said, recovering himself, 
 '' the total encumbrances on the property 
 do not amount to more than twenty-five 
 thousand pounds, and when I succeeded 
 to my father, forty years ago, it was 
 valued at fifty, and the Castle and 
 premises have been thoroughly repaired 
 since then at a cost of five thousand, 
 and most of the farm buildings also." 
 
 ''Very possibly, Mr. de la Molle, but 
 to be honest, I very much doubt if 
 Honham Castle and the lands round it 
 would now fetch twenty-five thousand 
 
THE SHAD OW OF R UIX. 1 5 5 
 
 pounds on a forced sale. Competition 
 and Radical agitation have brought estates 
 down more than people realise, and land In 
 Australia and New Zealand Is now worth 
 almost as much per acre as cultivated 
 lands In England. Perhaps as a resi- 
 dential property and on account of Its 
 historical interest it might fetch more, 
 but I doubt it. In short, Mr. de la 
 Molle, so anxious are Cossey and Son 
 In the matter, that I regret to have to 
 tell you that so far from being willing to 
 make a further advance, the firm have 
 formally instructed me to serve the usual 
 six months' notice on you, calling in the 
 money already advanced on mortgage, 
 together w^Ith the interest, which I must 
 remind you Is ' nearly a year overdue, 
 and this step I propose to take to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The old gentleman staggered for a 
 moment, and caught at the mantelpiece, 
 for the blow was a heavy one, and as 
 
156 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 unexpected as It was heavy. But he 
 recovered himself In an Instant, for It was 
 one of the pecuHarlties of his character 
 that his spirits always seemed to rise to 
 the occasion In the face of urgent 
 adversity — in short, he possessed an 
 extraordinary share of moral courage. 
 
 *' Indeed," he said indignantly, " Indeed, 
 it is a pity that you did not tell me that at 
 once, Mr. Quest ; It would have saved me 
 from putting myself In a false position by 
 proposing a business arrangement which is 
 not acceptable. As regards the interest, I 
 admit that it Is as you say, and I very 
 much regret It. That stupid fellow George 
 Is always so dreadfully behindhand with his 
 accounts that I can never get anything 
 settled." (He did not state, and Indeed 
 did not know, that the reason that the un- 
 fortunate George was behindhand was that 
 there were no accounts to make up, or 
 rather that they were all on the wrong side 
 of the ledger.) " I will have that matter 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 157 
 
 seen to at once. Of course, business people 
 are quite right to consider their due, and 
 I do not blame Messrs. Cossey in the 
 matter, not in the least. Still, I must say 
 that, considering the lono; and intimate rc- 
 lationship that has for nearly two centuries 
 existed between their house and my family, 
 they might — well — have shown a little more 
 consideration." 
 
 ''Yes," said Mr. Quest, "I daresay that 
 the step strikes you as a harsh one. To 
 be perfectly frank with you, ^Ir. de la 
 Molle, it struck me as a very harsh one ; 
 but, of course, I am only a servant, and 
 bound to carry out my instructions. I 
 sympathise with you very much— very 
 much indeed." 
 
 "Oh, don't do that," said the old gende- 
 man. " Of course, other arrangements 
 must be made ; and, much as it will pain 
 me to terminate my connection with 
 Messrs. Cossey, they shall be made." 
 
 " But I think," went on the lawyer 
 
iSS COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 without any notice of his interruption, ''that 
 you misunderstand the matter a Httle. 
 Cossey and Son are only a trading cor- 
 poration, whose object is to make money 
 by lending it, or otherwise — at all hazards 
 to make money. The kind of feeling that 
 you allude to, and that might induce them, 
 in consideration of long intimacy and close 
 connection in the past, to forego the oppor- 
 tunity of so doing and even to run a risk 
 of loss, is a thing which belongs to former 
 generations. But the present is a strictly 
 commercial age, and we are the most com- 
 mercial of the trading nations. Cossey and 
 Son move with the times, that is all, and 
 they would rather sell up a dozen families 
 who had dealt with them for two centuries 
 than lose five hundred pounds, provided, 
 of course, that they could do so without 
 scandal and loss of public respect, which, 
 where a banking house is concerned, also 
 means a loss of custom. I am a great 
 lover of the past myself, and believe that 
 
THE SHADOW OF RUIN. 159 
 
 our ancestors' ways of doing business were 
 on the whole, better and more charitable 
 than ours, but I have to make my living 
 and take the world as I find it, Mr. de la 
 Molle." 
 
 "Quite so. Quest; quite so," answered 
 the Squire quietly. '' I had no idea that 
 you looked at these matters in such a light. 
 Certainly the world has changed a good 
 deal since I was a young man, and I do 
 not think it has changed much for the 
 better. But you will w^ant your luncheon ; 
 it is hungry work talking about fore- 
 closures." Mr. Quest had not used this 
 unpleasant word, but the Squire had seen 
 his drift. " Come into the next room," 
 and he led the way to the drawling- 
 room, where Ida was sitting reading the 
 Times. 
 
 '' Ida," he said, w4th an affectation of 
 heartiness which did not, however, deceive 
 his daughter, who knew how to read every 
 change of her dear father's face, " here is 
 
i6o COLONEL QUA R ITCH, V.C. 
 
 Mr. Quest. Take him In to luncheon, my 
 love. I will come presently. I want to 
 finish a note." 
 
 Then he returned to the vestibule and 
 sat down in his favourite old oak chair. 
 
 " Ruined," he said to himself. *' I can 
 never get the money as things are, and 
 there will be a foreclosure. Well, I am an 
 old man and I hope that I shall not live 
 to see it. But there is Ida. Poor Ida! I 
 cannot bear to think of It, and the old place 
 too, after all these generations — after all 
 these generations ! " 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE TENNIS PARTY. 
 
 Ida shook hands coldly enough with the 
 lawyer, for whom she cherished a dislike 
 not unmixed w^th fear. Many w^omen are 
 by nature gifted with an extraordinary 
 power of intuition which fully makes up 
 for their deficiency In reasoning force. 
 They do not conclude from the premisses 
 of their observation, they knoio that this 
 man is to be feared and that trusted. 
 In fact, they share with the rest of breath- 
 ing creation that self-protective instinct of 
 instantaneous and almost automatic judg- 
 ment, given to guard it from the dangers 
 with which it is continually threatened at 
 the hands of man's overmastering strength 
 and ordered intelligence. Ida was one of 
 these. She knew nothing to Mr. Quest's 
 
 VOL. I. II 
 
i62 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 disadvantage, indeed she always heard him 
 spoken of with great respect, and curiously- 
 enough she liked his wife. But she 
 could not bear the man, feeling in her 
 heart that he was not only to be avoided 
 on account of his own hidden qualities, but 
 that he was moreover an active personal 
 enemy. 
 
 They went into the dining-room, where 
 the luncheon was set, and while Ida 
 allowed Mr. Quest to cut her some 
 cold boiled beef, an operation in which 
 he did not seem to be very much at 
 home, she came to a rapid conclusion in 
 her own mind. She had seen clearly 
 enough from her father's face that his 
 interview with the lawyer had been of a 
 most serious character, but she knew that 
 the chances w^ere that she would never 
 be able to get its upshot out of him, for 
 the old gentleman had a curious habit of 
 keeping such unpleasant matters to him- 
 self until he was absolutely forced by cir- 
 
THE TEX X IS PARTY. 163 
 
 cumstances to reveal them. She also knew 
 that her father's affairs were In a most 
 critical condition, for this she had extracted 
 from him on the previous night, and that if 
 any remedy was to be attempted it must 
 be attempted at once, and on some heroic 
 scale. Therefore, she made up her mind 
 to ask her btte noire, Mr. Quest, what 
 the truth might be. 
 
 " Mr. Quest," she said, with some trepi- 
 dation, as he at last triumphantly handed 
 her the beef, '' I hope you will forgive me 
 for asking you a plain question, and that, 
 if you can, you will favour me with a 
 plain answer. I know my father's affairs 
 are very much involved, and that he is 
 now anxious to borrow some more money ; 
 but I do not know quite how matters 
 stand, and I want to learn the exact truth." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear you speak so, 
 Miss de la Molle," answered the lawyer, 
 "because I was trying to make up my 
 mind to broach the subject, which is a 
 
 II— 2 
 
i64 COLONEL QUARITCH, I'.C. 
 
 painful one to me. Frankly, then — forgive 
 me for saying it, your father Is absolutely 
 ruined. The interest on the mortgages Is 
 a year In arrcar, his largest farm has just 
 been thrown upon his hands, and, to com- 
 plete the tale, the mortgagees are going to 
 call in their money or foreclose." 
 
 At this statement, which was almost 
 brutal In its brief comprehensiveness, Ida 
 turned pale as death, as well she might 
 and dropped her fork with a clatter upon 
 the plate. 
 
 *' I did not realise that things were quite 
 so bad," she murmured. "Then, I suppose 
 that the place will be taken from us, and 
 we shall — shall have to go away." 
 
 " Yes, certainly, unless money can be 
 found to take up the mortgages, of which 
 I see no chance. The place will be sold 
 for what it will fetch, and that now-a-days 
 will be no great sum." 
 
 "When will that be?" she asked. 
 
 ''In about six or nine months' time." 
 
THE TENNIS PARTY, 165 
 
 Ida's lips trembled, and the sight of the 
 food upon her plate became nauseous to 
 her. A vision arose before her mind's 
 eye of herself and her old father depart- 
 ing hand in hand from the Castle gates, 
 behind and about which gleamed the hard 
 wild lights of a March sunset, to seek a 
 place to hide themselves. The vivid horror 
 of the phantasy almost overcame her. 
 
 '' Is there no way of escape ? " she asked 
 hoarsely. '' To lose this place would kill 
 my father. He loves it better than any- 
 thing in the world ; his whole life is 
 wrapped up in it." 
 
 '' I can quite understand that. Miss de 
 la Molle ; it is a most charming old place, 
 especially to anybody interested In the past. 
 But unfortunately mortgagees are no re- 
 specters of feelings. To them land is so 
 much property and nothing more." 
 
 '' I know all that," she said impatiently, 
 " you do not answer my question ; " and 
 she leaned towards him, resting her hand 
 
|6^ COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Upon the table. "Is there no way out 
 of It ? " 
 
 Mr. Quest drank a little claret before 
 he answered. *'Yes," he said, *' I think 
 that there Is, If only you will take It." 
 
 ** What way ? " she asked eagerly. 
 
 " Well, though as I said just now, the 
 mortgagees of an estate as a body are 
 merely a business corporation, and look 
 at things from a business point of view 
 only, you must remember that they are 
 composed of Individuals, and that In- 
 dividuals can be Influenced If they can be 
 got at. For Instance, Cossey and Son 
 are an abstraction and harshly disposed 
 In their abstract capacity, but Mr. Edward 
 Cossey Is an Individual, and I should say, 
 so far as this particular matter Is concerned, 
 a benevolently disposed Individual. Now 
 Mr. Edward Cossey Is not himself at the 
 present moment actually one of the firm 
 of Cossey and Son, but he Is the heir of 
 the head of the house, and of course has 
 
THE TENNIS PARTY. 167 
 
 authority, and, what Is better still, the com- 
 mand of money." 
 
 ''I understand," said Ida. "You mean 
 that my father should try to win over Mr. 
 Edward Cossey. Unfortunately, to be 
 frank, he dislikes him, and my father is 
 not a man to keep his dislikes to himself" 
 
 '' People generally do dislike those to 
 whom they are crushingly indebted ; your 
 father dislikes Mr. Cossey because his 
 name is Cossey, and for no other reason. 
 But that is not quite what I meant — I do 
 not think that the Squire is the right per- 
 son to undertake a negotiation of the sort. 
 He Is a little too outspoken and incautious. 
 No, Miss de la Molle, if it Is to be done 
 at all yozc must do it. You must put the 
 whole case before him at once — this very 
 afternoon, there is no time for delay ; you 
 need not enter into details, he knows all 
 about them — only ask him to avert this 
 catastrophe. He can do so if he likes, 
 how hQ does it is his own affair.' 
 
i68 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 * "But, Mr. Quest," said Ida, "how can 
 I ask such a favour of any man ? I shall 
 be putting myself in a dreadfully false 
 position." 
 
 '' I do not pretend, Miss de la Molle, 
 that it is a pleasant task for any young- 
 lady to undertake. I quite understand 
 your shrinking from It. But sometimes 
 one has to do unpleasant things and make 
 compromises with one's self-respect. It Is 
 a question whether or no your family shall 
 be utterly ruined and destroyed. There is, 
 as I honestly believe, no prospect whatever 
 of your father being able to get the money 
 to pay off Cossey and Son, and If he did, 
 it would not help him, because he could 
 not pay the Interest on It. Under these 
 circumstances you have to choose between 
 putting yourself In an equivocal position 
 and letting events take their course. It 
 would be useless for anybody else to un- 
 dertake the t^sk, and of course I cannot 
 guarantee that even you will succeed, but 
 
THE TENXIS PARTY. 169 
 
 I will not mince matters — as you doubtless 
 know, any man would find it hard to re- 
 fuse a favour asked by such a suppliant. 
 And now you must make up your own 
 mind. I have shown you a path that may 
 lead your family from a position of the 
 most imminent peril. If you are the 
 woman I take you for, you will not shrink 
 from following it." 
 
 Ida made no reply, and in another mo- 
 ment the Squire came in to take a couple 
 of orlasses of sherrv and a biscuit. But Mr. 
 Quest, furtively watching her face, said 
 to himself that she had taken the bait 
 and that she would do it. Shortly after 
 this a diversion occurred, for the clergyman, 
 i\Ir. Jeffries, a pleasant little man, with a 
 round and shining face and a most un- 
 clerical eyeglass, came up to consult the 
 Squire upon some matter of parish busi- 
 ness, and was shown into the dining-room. 
 Ida took advantage of his appearance to 
 effect a retreat to her own room, and there 
 
I70 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 for the present we may leave her to her 
 meditations. 
 
 No more business was discussed by the 
 Squire that afternoon. Indeed It Interested 
 Mr. Quest, who was above all things a 
 student of character, to observe how won- 
 derfully the old gentleman threw off his 
 trouble. To listen to him energetically 
 arguing with the Rev. Mr. Jeffries as to 
 whether or no It would be proper, as 
 had hitherto been the custom, to devote 
 the proceeds of the harvest festival collec- 
 tion (^i 1 8s. 3d. and a brass button) to 
 the county hospital, or whether It should 
 be applied to the repair of the woodwork 
 in the vestry, was under the circumstances 
 most Instructive. The Rev. Mr. Jeffries, 
 who suffered severely from the condition 
 of the vestry, at last gained his point by 
 triumphantly showing that no patient from 
 Honham had been admitted to the hospital 
 for fifteen months, and that therefore the 
 hospital had no claim on this particular 
 
THE TENNIS PARTY. 171 
 
 year, whereas the draught in the vestry 
 was enough to cut any clergyman In two. 
 
 " Well, well," said the old gentleman, 
 '' I will consent for this year, and this 
 year only. I have been churchwarden of 
 this parish for between forty and fifty 
 years, and we have always given the har- 
 vest festival collection to the hospital, 
 and although under these exceptional cir- 
 cumstances It may possibly be desirable to 
 diverge from that custom, I cannot and 
 will not consent to such a thing in a 
 permanent way. So I shall write to the 
 Secretary and explain the matter, and tell 
 him that next year and In the future gen- 
 erally the collection will be devoted to 
 its original purpose." 
 
 ''Great heavens!" ejaculated Mr. Quest 
 to himself '* And the man must know 
 that in all human probability the place will 
 be sold over his head before he is a 
 year older. I wonder if he puts it on 
 or if he deceives himself I suppose he 
 
172 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 his lived here so long that he cannot realise 
 a condition of things under which he will 
 cease to live here and the place will be- 
 long to somebody else. Or perhaps he is 
 only brazening it out." And then he strolled 
 away to the back of the house and had a 
 look at the condition of the outhouses, 
 reflecting that some of them would be 
 sadly expensive to repair for whoever came 
 into possession here. After that he crossed 
 the moat and walked through the some- 
 what extensive plantations at the back of 
 the house, wondering if it would not be 
 possible to get enough timber out of them, 
 if one went to work judiciously, to pay for 
 putting the place in order. Presently he 
 came to a hedgerow where a row of very 
 fine timber oaks had stood, of which the 
 Squire had been notoriously fond, and of 
 which he had himself taken particular and 
 admiring notice in the course of the pre- 
 vious winter. The trees were gone. In the 
 hedge where they had grown were a series 
 
THE TEXXIS PARTY. 173 
 
 of gaps like those in an old woman's jaw, 
 and the ground was still littered with re- 
 mains of bark and branches and of faggots 
 that had been made up from the brush- 
 wood. 
 
 "Cut down this spring fell," was ]\Ir. 
 Quest's ejaculation. " Poor old gentleman, 
 he must have been pinched before he con- 
 sented to part with those oaks." 
 
 Then he turned and went back to the 
 house, just in time to see Ida's guests 
 arriving for the lawn tennis party. Ida 
 herself was standing on the lawn behind 
 the house, which, bordered as it was by 
 the moat and at the further end by a row 
 of ruined arches, was one of the most 
 picturesque in the country and a very 
 e.Tective setting to any young lady. As 
 the people came they were shown through 
 the house on to the lawn, and here she 
 was receiving them. She was dressed in 
 a plain, tight-fitting gown of blue flannel, 
 which showed off her perfect figure to 
 
174 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 great advantage, and a broad - brimmed 
 hit, that shaded her fine and dignified 
 face. Mr. Quest sat down on a bench 
 beneath the shade of an arbutus, watching 
 her closely, and Indeed, If the study of a 
 perfect English lady of the noblest sort has 
 any charms, he was not without his reward. 
 There are some women — most of us know 
 one or two — who are born to hold a great 
 position, and to sail across the world like 
 a swan through meaner fowl. It would 
 be very hard to say to what their peculiar 
 charm and dignity Is owing. It Is not to 
 beauty only, for though they have presence, 
 many of these women are not beautiful, 
 while some are even plain. Nor does It 
 spring from native grace and tact alone ; 
 though these things must be present. 
 Rather perhaps Is It the reflection of a 
 cultivated Intellect acting upon a naturally 
 pure and elevated temperament, which 
 makes these ladles conspicuous and fashions 
 them In such' kind that all men, putting 
 
THE TENNIS PARTY. 175 
 
 aside the mere charm of beauty and the 
 natural softening of judgment in the atmo- 
 sphere of sex, must recognise in them an 
 equal mind, and a presence more noble 
 than their own. 
 
 Such a woman was Ida de la Molle, and 
 if any one doubted it, it was sufficient to 
 compare her in her simplicity to the 
 various human items by whom she was 
 surrounded. They were a typical county 
 society gathering, such as needs no de- 
 scription, and would not greatly interest if 
 described ; neither very good nor very bad, 
 very handsome nor very plain, but moving 
 religiously w^ithin the lines of custom and 
 on the ground of commonplace. 
 
 It was no w^onder, then, that a w^oman like 
 Ida de la Molle was facile pi'inceps among 
 such company, or that Harold Ouaritch, who 
 was somew^hat poetically inclined for a man 
 of his age, at any rate where the lady in 
 question was concerned, should in his heart 
 have compared her to a queen. Even 
 
176 COLONEL QUARITCH, \\C. 
 
 Belle Quest, lovely as she undoubtedly was 
 in her own way, paled and looked shop- 
 girlish in face of that gentle dignity, a fact 
 of which she was evidently aware, for 
 although the two women were friendly, 
 nothino; would induce the latter to stand 
 long near Ida in public. She would tell 
 Edward Cossey that it made her look like 
 a w^ax doll by a live child. 
 
 While Mr. Quest was still watching Ida 
 with complete satisfaction, for she appealed 
 to the artistic side of his nature, Colonel 
 Quaritch arrived upon the scene, looking, 
 Mr. Quest thought, particularly plain with 
 his solid form, his long thin nose, light 
 whiskers, and square massive chin. Also he 
 looked particularly imposing in contrast to 
 the youths and maidens and domesticated 
 clergymen. There was a gravity, almost a 
 solemnity, about his bronzed countenance 
 and deliberate ordered conversation, which 
 did not, however, favourably impress the 
 aforesaid youths and maidens, if a judgment 
 
THE TENNIS PARTY. 
 
 177 
 
 might be formed from such simples of con- 
 versational criticism as Mr. Quest heard 
 going on on the further side of his ar- 
 butus. 
 
 =iMa^^, 
 
 VOL. 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 Ida's bargain. 
 
 When Ida saw the Colonel coming, she 
 JDut on her sweetest smile and took his 
 outstretched hand. 
 
 " How do you do, Colonel Ouaritch ? " 
 she said. ''It is very good of you to 
 come, especially as you don't play tennis 
 much — by the way I hope you have been 
 studying that cypher, for I am sure it is a 
 cypher." 
 
 " I studied it for half-an-hour before I 
 went to bed last night. Miss de la Molle, 
 and for the life of me I could not make 
 anything out of it, and what's more, I 
 don't think that there is anything to make 
 out. 
 
 " Ah," she answered with a sigh, '' I 
 wish there was." 
 
IDA'S BARGAIN. ijg 
 
 " Well, I'll have another try at it. 
 What will you give me if I find it out ? " 
 he said with a smile which lighted up his 
 rugged face most pleasantly. 
 
 '' Anything you like to ask and that I 
 can give," she answered in a tone of 
 earnestness which struck him as peculiar, 
 for of course he did not know the news 
 that she had just heard from Mr. Quest. 
 
 Then for the first time for many years, 
 Harold Quaritch delivered himself of a 
 speech that might have been capable of a 
 tender and hidden meaning. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, bowing, '' that if 
 I came to claim the reward, I should ask 
 for more even than you would be inclined 
 
 to Pfive." 
 
 Ida blushed a little. *' We can consider 
 that when you do come, Colonel Quaritch 
 — excuse me, but here are Mrs. Quest and 
 Mr. Cossey, and I must go and say how 
 do you do." 
 
 Harold Quaritch looked round, feeling 
 
 12—2 
 
i8o COLOXEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 unreasonably Irritated at this interruption 
 to his Httle advances, and for the first time 
 saw Edward Cossey. He was coming 
 along in the wake of Mrs. Quest, looking 
 very handsome and rather languid, when 
 their eyes met, and to speak the truth, 
 the Colonel's first impression was not a 
 complimentary one. Edward Cossey was 
 in some ways not a bad fellow, but like a 
 great many young men who are born with 
 silver spoons in their mouths, he had 
 many airs and graces, one of which was 
 the affectation of treating older and better 
 men with an assumption of off-handedness 
 and even of superiority that was rather 
 obnoxious. Thus while Ida was greeting 
 Mrs. Quest, he was engaged in taking in 
 the Colonel in a way which irritated that 
 gentleman considerably. 
 
 Presently Ida turned and introduced 
 Colonel Quaritch, first to Mrs. Quest and 
 then to Mr. Cossey. Harold bowed to 
 each, and then strolled off to meet the 
 
IDA'S BARGAIN. iSi 
 
 Squire, whom he noted advancing with 
 his usual array of protective towels hanging- 
 out of his hat, and for a while saw neither 
 of them any more. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Quest had emerged from 
 the shelter of his arbutus, and o-oinq; 
 from one person to another, said some 
 pleasant and appropriate word to each, till 
 at last he reached the spot where his 
 Vv'ife and Edward Cossey were standing. 
 Nodding affectionately at the former, he 
 asked her if she was not going to play 
 tennis, and then drew Cossey aside. 
 
 ''Well, Quest," said the latter, "have you 
 told the old man ? " 
 
 "Yes, I told him." 
 
 " How did he take it?" 
 
 " Oh, talked it off and said that of 
 course other arrangements must be made. 
 I spoke to ]\liss de la ?^Iolle too." 
 
 " Indeed," said Edward, in a changed 
 tone, "and how did she take it?" 
 
 "Well," answered the lawyer, putting en 
 
i82 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 an air of deep concern (and as a matter of 
 fact he really did feel sorry for her), '' I 
 think it was the most painful professional 
 experience that I ever had. The poor 
 woman was utterly crushed. She said that 
 it would kill her father." 
 
 *' Poor girl!" said Mr. Cossey, In a voice 
 that showed his sympathy to be of a very 
 active order, "and how pluckily she is 
 carrying It off too — look at her," and he 
 pointed to where Ida was standing, a lawn 
 tennis bat in her hand and laughingly ar- 
 ranging a "set" of married versus single. 
 
 " Yes, she is a spirited girl," answered 
 Mr. Quest, "and what a splendid woman 
 she looks, doesn't she ? I never saw any- 
 body who was so perfect a lady — there Is 
 nobody to touch her round here, unless," he 
 added meditatively, "perhaps it is Belle." 
 
 " They are different types of beauty," 
 answered Edward Cossey, flinching. 
 
 " Yes, but equally striking in their 
 separate ways. Well, it can't be helped, 
 
IDA'SIBARGAIN. 183 
 
 but I feel sorry for that poor woman and 
 the old gentleman too — ah, there he is." 
 
 As he was speaking the Squire, who 
 was walking past with Colonel Quaritch, 
 with the object of showing him the view 
 from the end of the moat, suddenly came 
 face to face with Edward Cossey. He at 
 once stepped forward to greet him, but to 
 his surprise was met by a cold and most 
 stately bow from ]\Ir. de la ]\Iolle, who passed 
 on without vouchsafing a single word. 
 
 ''Old idiot!" ejaculated ^^Ir. Quest to 
 himself, " he will put Cossey 's back up and 
 spoil the game." 
 
 ''Well," said Edward aloud and colouring 
 almost to his eyes. " That old gentleman 
 knows how to be insolent." 
 
 " You must not mind him, Mr. Cossey," 
 answered Quest hastily. " The poor old 
 boy has a very good idea of himself — 
 he is dreadfully injured because Cossey 
 and Son are calling in the mortgages after 
 the family has dealt with them for so many 
 
l84 COLONEL OVARITCIl, V.C. 
 
 generations ; and he thinks that you have 
 something to do with It." 
 
 ''Well If he docs he might as well be 
 civil. It does not particularly Incline a 
 fellow to go aside to pull him out of the 
 ditch, just to be cut in that fashion — ^I 
 have half a mind to order my trap and 
 go." 
 
 *' No, no, don't do that — you must make 
 allowances, you must Indeed — look, here 
 Is Miss de la Molle coming to ask you to 
 play tennis." 
 
 At this moment Ida arrived and took off 
 Edward Cossey with her, not a little to 
 the relief of Mr. Quest, who began to fear 
 that the whole scheme w^as spoiled by 
 the Squire's unfortunate magnificence of 
 manner. 
 
 Edward played his game, having Ida 
 herself as his partner. It cannot be said 
 that the set was a pleasant one for the 
 latter, who, poor woman, was doing her 
 utmost to bring up her courage to the 
 
IDA'S BARGAIN. 185 
 
 point necessary to the carrying out of the 
 appeal ad iniserico7'diam, which she had 
 decided to make as soon as the game was 
 over. However, chance put an opportunity 
 in her way, for Edward Cossey, who had 
 a curious weakness for flowers, asked her 
 if she would show him her chrysanthe- 
 mums, of which she was very proud. She 
 consented readily enough. They crossed 
 the lawm, and passing through some 
 shrubbery reached the greenhouse, which 
 was placed at the end of the Castle Itself. 
 Here for some minutes they looked at the 
 flowers, just now bursting Into bloom. Ida, 
 who felt exceedingly nervous, was all the 
 while wondering how on earth she could 
 broach so delicate a subject, when for- 
 tunately Mr. Cossey himself gave her the 
 necessary opening. 
 
 '' I can't Imagine, Miss de la Molle," he 
 said, '' what I have done to offend your 
 father — he almost cut me just now." 
 
 ''Are you sure that he saw you, Mr. 
 
1 86 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 Cossey ; he Is very absent-minded some- 
 times ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, he saw me, but when I offered 
 to shake hands with him he only bowed in 
 rather a crushing way and passed on." 
 
 Ida broke off a Scarlet Turk from its 
 stem, and nervously began to pick the 
 bloom to pieces. 
 
 '' The fact is, Mr. Cossey — the fact Is, 
 my father, and indeed I also, are in great 
 trouble just now, about money matters 
 you know, and my father is very apt to 
 be prejudiced — in short, I rather believe 
 that he thinks you may have something 
 to do with his difficulties — but perhaps 
 you know all about It." 
 
 '' I know something, Miss de la Molle," 
 said he gravely, '' and I hope and trust 
 you do not believe that I have anything 
 to do with the action which Cossey and 
 Son have thought fit to take." 
 
 " No, no," she said hastily. '' I never 
 thought anything of the sort — but I know 
 
IDA'S BARGAIN. 187 
 
 that you have Influence — and, well, to be 
 plain, ]\Ir. Cossey, I implore of you to 
 use It. Perhaps you will understand that 
 it is verv humlllatlnQf for me to be obllo-ed 
 to ask this, though you can never guess 
 hoiu humiliatlnQ^. Believe me, ]\Ir. Cossev, 
 I would never ask it for myself, but It Is 
 for my father — he loves this place better 
 than his life ; it would be much better 
 hj should die than that he should be 
 obliged to leave It ; and if this money is 
 called in, that is what must happen, be- 
 cause the place will be sold over us. 
 I believe he would go mad, I do in- 
 deed," and she stopped speaking and stood 
 before him, the frao-ment of the flower 
 in her hand, her breast heaving with 
 emotion. 
 
 '' What do vou suo-o-est should be done, 
 Miss de la Molle ? " said Edward Cossey 
 gently. 
 
 " I suggest that — that — If you will be 
 so kind, you should persuade Cossey 
 
1 88 COLONEL GUAR ITCH, V.C. 
 
 and Soil to foreero their intention of 
 
 o 
 
 calling In the money." 
 
 "It Is quite Impossible," he answered. 
 *' My father has ordered the step himself, 
 and he Is a hard man. It Is Impossible 
 to turn him If he thinks he will lose 
 money by turning. You see he is a 
 banker, and has been handling money all 
 his life, till It has become a sort of god 
 to him. Really I believe that he would 
 rather beggar every friend he has than 
 lose five thousand pounds." 
 
 '' Then there Is no more to be said. 
 The place must go, that's all," replied 
 Ida, turning away her head and affecting 
 to busy herself In removing some dried 
 leaves from a chrysanthemum plant. 
 Edward, watching her however, saw her 
 shoulders shake and a big tear fall Kke 
 a raindrop on the pavement, and the 
 sight, strongly attracted as he was and 
 had for some time been towards the young- 
 lady, was altogether too much for him. 
 
IDA'S BARGAIN. 189 
 
 In an instant, moved by an overwhelm- 
 ing impulse, and something not unlike a 
 gust of passion, he came to one of 
 those determinations which so often chano-e 
 the whole course and tenour of men's 
 lives. 
 
 '' Miss de la Molle," he said rapidly, 
 '' there may be a way found out of 
 it." 
 
 She looked up enquiringly, and there 
 were the tear stains on her face. 
 
 "' Somebody might take up the mort- 
 gages and pay off Cossey and Son." 
 
 " Can you find anyone who will ? " she 
 asked eagerly. 
 
 '' No, not as an investment. I under- 
 stand that thirty thousand pounds are 
 required, and I tell you frankly that as 
 times are I do not for one moment be- 
 lieve the place to be worth that amount. 
 It is all very well for your father to talk 
 about land recovering itself, but at present, 
 at any rate, nobody can see the faintest 
 
I90 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 chance of anything of the sort. The 
 probablHties are, on the contrary, that as 
 the American competition Increases, land 
 will gradually sink to something like a 
 prairie value." 
 
 '' Then how can the money be got if 
 nobody will advance it ? " 
 
 '* I did not say that nobody would 
 advance it ; I said that nobody would 
 advance it as an Investment — a friend 
 might advance it." 
 
 '' And where is such a friend to be 
 found ? He must be a very disinterested 
 friend who would advance thirty thousand 
 pounds." 
 
 *' Nobody in this world is quite dis- 
 interested. Miss de la Molle ; or at any 
 rate very few are. What would you 
 give to such a friend ? " 
 
 '' I would give anything and everything 
 over which I have control in the world, 
 to save my father from seeing 'Honham 
 sold over his head," she answered simply. 
 
IDA '5 BARGAIN. 191 
 
 Edward Cossey laughed a little. '' That 
 Is a large order," he said. "■ Miss de la 
 Molle, / am disposed to try and find the 
 money to take up these mortgages. I 
 have not got it, and I shall have to 
 borrow it, and what is more, I shall have 
 to keep the fact that I have borrowed it 
 a secret from my father." 
 
 " It is very good of you," said Ida 
 faintly, " I don't know what to say." 
 
 For a moment he made no reply, and 
 looking at him, Ida saw that his hand 
 was trembling.- 
 
 "Miss de la Molle," he said, "there 
 is another matter of which I wish to 
 speak to you. ]Men are sometimes put 
 into strange positions, partly through their 
 own fault, partly by force of circumstances, 
 and when in those positions are forced 
 down paths that they would not follow. 
 Supposing, Miss de la ^lolle, that mine 
 were some such position, and supposing 
 that owing to that position I could not 
 
192 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 say to you words which I should wish 
 
 to sav " 
 
 Ida began to understand now and once 
 more turned aside. 
 
 " Supposing, however, that at some 
 future time the difficulties of that position 
 of which I have spoken, were to fade 
 away, and I were then to speak those 
 words, can you, supposing all this — tell 
 me how they would be received ? " 
 
 Ida paused, and thought. She was a 
 strong-natured and clear-headed woman, 
 and she fully understood the position. On 
 her answer would depend whether or no 
 the thirty thousand pounds were forth- 
 coming, and therefore, whether or no 
 Honham Castle would pass from her 
 father and her race. 
 
 " I said just now, Mr. Cossey," she 
 answered coldly, '' that I would give any- 
 thing and everything over which I have 
 control in the world, to save my father 
 from seeing Honham sold over his head. 
 
IDA 'S BARGAIN. 193 
 
 I do not wish to retract those words, 
 and I think that in them you w^ill find 
 an answ^er to your question." 
 
 He coloured. " You put the matter in 
 a very business-like way," he said. 
 
 *' It is best put so, Mr. Cossey," she 
 answered with a faint shade of bitterness 
 in her tone ; " it preserves me from feeling 
 under an obligation — will you see my father 
 about these mortgages ? " 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow. And now I will say 
 good-bye to you," and he took her hand, 
 and with some little hesitation kissed it. 
 She made no resistance and showed no 
 emotion. 
 
 "Yes," she answ^ered, "we have been 
 here some time ; Mrs. Quest will wonder 
 what has become of you." 
 
 It was a random arrowy but it went 
 straight home, and for the third time that 
 day Edward Cossey reddened to the roots 
 of his hair. Without answ^ering a word he 
 bowed and went. 
 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
194 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 When Ida saw this, she was sorry she had 
 made the remark, for she had no wish to 
 appear to Mr. Cossey (the conquest of 
 whom gave her neither pride nor pleasure) 
 in the light of a spiteful, or worse still, of 
 a jealous woman. She had indeed heard 
 some talk about him and Mrs. Quest, but 
 not being of a scandal-loving disposition 
 it had not interested her, and she had 
 almost forgotten it. Now however she 
 learned that there was something In it. 
 
 " So that is the difficult position of 
 which he talks," she said to herself; "he 
 wants to marry me as soon as he can get 
 Mrs. Quest off" his hands. And I have 
 consented to that, always provided that 
 Mrs. Quest can be disposed of, in con- 
 sideration of the receipt of a sum of thirty 
 thousand pounds. And I do not like the 
 man. It was not nice of him to make 
 that bargain, though I brought it on 
 myself I wonder if my father will ever 
 know what I have done for him, and if he 
 
IDA '5 BARGAIN. 195 
 
 will appreciate It when he does. Well, It Is 
 not a bad price — thirty thousand pounds 
 — a good figure for any woman in the 
 present state of the market." And with a 
 hard and bitter laugh, and a prescience 
 of sorrow to come lying at the heart, she 
 threw down the remains of the Scarlet 
 Turk and turned away. 
 
 .~la^£u<i 
 
 I^— - 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GEORGE PROPHESIES. 
 
 Ida, for obvious reasons, said nothing to 
 her father of her interview with Edward 
 Cossey, and thus it came to pass that on 
 the morning following the lawn tennis 
 party, there was a very serious consultation 
 between the faithful George and his master. 
 It appeared to Ida, who was lying awake 
 in her room, to commence somewhere about 
 daybreak, and it certainly continued with 
 short intervals for refreshment till eleven 
 o'clock in the forenoon. First the Squire 
 explained the whole question to George at 
 great length, and with a most extraordinary 
 multiplicity of detail, for he began at his 
 first loan from the house of Cossey and 
 Son, which he had contracted a great 
 many years before. All this while George 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 197 
 
 sat with a very long face, and tried to look 
 as thoLiofh he were followino- the thread of 
 the argument, which was not possible, for 
 his master had long ago lost it himself, and 
 was mixing up the loan of 1863 with the 
 loan of 1 8 74, and the money raised on the 
 severance of the entail with both, in a w^ay 
 which would have driven anybody except 
 George, who was used to this sort of thing, 
 perfectly mad. However he sat it through, 
 and when at last the account was finished, re- 
 marked that things '' sartainly did look queer." 
 
 Thereupon the Squire called him a stupid 
 owl, and having by means of some test 
 questions discovered that he knew very 
 little of the details which had just been ex- 
 plained to him at such portentous length, in 
 spite of the protest of the wretched George, 
 who urged that they " didn't seem to be 
 gitting no forrader somehow," he began 
 and went through every word of it again. 
 
 This brought them to breakfast time, 
 and after breakfast, George's accounts were 
 
198 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 thoroughly gone Into, with the result that 
 confusion was soon worse confounded, for 
 either George could not keep accounts or 
 the Squire could not follow them. Ida, sit- 
 ting in the drawing-room, could occasionally 
 hear her father's ejaculatory outbursts after 
 this kind ; 
 
 *'Why, you stupid donkey, you've added 
 it up all wrong, it's nine hundred and fifty, 
 not three hundred and fifty ; " followed by 
 a " No, no, Squire, you be a-looking on the 
 wrong side — them there is the dibits," 
 and so on till both parties were fairly 
 played out, and the only thing that 
 remained clear was that the balance was 
 considerably on the wrong side. 
 
 "Well," said the Squire at last, ''there 
 you are, you see. It appears to me that 
 I am absolutely ruined, and upon my word 
 I believe that it is a great deal owing to 
 your stupidity. You have muddled and 
 muddled and muddled till at last you have 
 muddled us out of house and home." 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 199 
 
 '' No, no, Squire, don't say that — don't 
 you say that. It ain't none of my doing, 
 for I've been a good sarvant to you if I 
 haven't had much book larning. It's that 
 there dratted borrov/ing, that's what it is, 
 and the interest and all the rest on it, and 
 though I says it as didn't ought, poor ]\Ir. 
 James, God rest him and his free-handed 
 ways. Don't you say it's me, Squire." 
 
 '' Well, well," answered his master, " it 
 doesn't much matter whose fault it is, the 
 result is the same, George ; I'm ruined, 
 and I suppose that the place will be sold 
 if anybody can be found to buy it. The 
 de la Molles have been here between four 
 and five centuries, and they got it by 
 marriage with the Boisseys, who got it 
 from the Norman kings, and now it will 
 go to the hammer and be bought by a 
 picture dealer, or a manufacturer of brandy, 
 or someone of that sort. Well, everything 
 has its end and God's will be done." 
 
 " No, no. Squire, don't you talk like 
 
200 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 that," answered George with emotion. " I 
 can't bear to hear you talk hke that. And 
 what's more It ain't so." 
 
 ''What do you mean by that?" asked 
 the old gentleman sharply. ''It is so, 
 there's no getting over It unless you can 
 find thirty thousand pounds or thereabouts, 
 to take up these mortgages with. Nothing 
 short of a miracle can save It. That's 
 always your way. ' Oh, something will 
 turn up, something will turn up.' " 
 
 " Thin there'll be a miricle," said 
 George, bringing down a fist like a leg of 
 mutton with a thud upon the table, " It 
 ain't no use of your talking to me, Squire. 
 I knaw It, I tell you I knaw It. There'll 
 never be no other than a de la MoUe up at 
 the Castle while we're alive, no, nor while 
 our chllder Is alive either. If the 
 money's to be found, why drat it, it will 
 be found. Don't you think that God 
 Almighty Is going to put none of them 
 there counter jumpers into Honham Castle, 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 201 
 
 where gentlefolk hev lived all these 
 ginerations, because He ain't. There, and 
 that's the truth, because I knaw it and so 
 help me God — and if I'm wrong it's a 
 master one." 
 
 The Squire, who was striding up and 
 down the room in his irritation, stopped 
 suddenly in his walk, and looked at his 
 retainer with a sharp and searching gaze 
 upon his noble features. Notwithstanding 
 his prejudices, his simplicity and his occa- 
 sional absurdities, he was in his own way 
 an able man, and an excellent judge of 
 human nature. Even his prejudices were 
 as a rule founded upon some solid 
 ground, only it was as a general rule 
 impossible to get at it. Also he had a 
 share of that marvellous instinct which, 
 when it exists, reo-isters the mental altitude 
 of the minds of others with the accuracy 
 of an aneroid. He could tell when a man's 
 words rang true and when they rang false, 
 and what is more when the conviction of 
 
202 COLONEL QUA R ITCH, V.C. 
 
 the true, and the falsity of the false, 
 rested upon a substantial basis of fact or 
 error. Of course the instinct was a vamie, 
 and from its nature an indefinable one, but 
 it existed, and in the present instance arose 
 in strength. He looked at the ugly, 
 melancholy countenance of the faithful 
 George with that keen glance of his, and 
 observed that for the moment it was almost 
 beautiful — beautiful in the light of con- 
 viction which shone upon It. He looked, 
 and it was borne in upon him that what 
 George said was true, and that George 
 knew It was true, although he did not 
 know where the light of truth came from, 
 and as he looked half the load fell from 
 his heart. 
 
 '' Hullo, George, are you turning prophet 
 in addition to your other occupations ? " 
 he said cheerfully, and as he did so 
 Edward Cossey's splendid bay horse pulled 
 up at the door and the bell rang. 
 
 '' Well," he added as soon as he saw 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 203 
 
 who his visitor was, " unless I am much 
 mistaken, we shall soon know how much 
 truth there is in your prophecies, for here 
 comes Mr. Cossey himself." 
 
 Before George could sufficiently recover 
 from his recent agitation to make any reply, 
 Edward Cossey, looking particularly hand 
 some and rather overpowering, was shown 
 into the room. 
 
 The Squire shook hands with him this 
 time, though coldly enough, and George 
 touched his forelock and said, " Sarvant, 
 sir," in the approved fashion. Thereon 
 his master told him that he might retire, 
 thoueh he was to be sure not to qo out 
 of hearing, as he should want him again 
 presently. 
 
 '' Very well, sir," answered George, ''I'll 
 just step up to the Poplars. I told a man 
 to be round there to-day, as I want to see 
 if I can come to an onderstanding with 
 him about this year's fell in the big wood." 
 
 '' There," said the Squire with an ex- 
 
204 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 presslon of Infinite disgust, '' there, that's 
 just Hke your way, your horrid cadging 
 way ; the idea of telHng a man to be 
 ' round about the Poplars ' sometime or 
 other to-day, because you wanted to speak 
 to him about a fell. Why didn't you write 
 him a letter like an ordinary Christian and 
 make an offer, instead of dodging him 
 round a farm for half a day like a wild 
 Indian ? Besides, the Poplars is half a mile 
 off, if it's a yard." 
 
 " Lord, sir," said George as he retired, 
 ''that ain't the way that folks in these 
 parts like to do business, that ain't. Letter 
 writing is all very well for Londoners and 
 other furriners, but it don't do here. 
 Besides, sir, I shall hear you well enough 
 up there. Sarvant, sir!" this to Edward 
 Cossey, and he was gone. 
 
 Edward burst out laughing, and the 
 Squire looked after his retainer with a 
 comical air. , • 
 
 ''No wonder that the place has got into 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 205 
 
 a mess with such a fellow as that to 
 manao-e it," he said aloud. " The idea of 
 huntino; a man round the Po]3lars Farm 
 like — like an Indian squaw! He's a 
 regular cadger, that's what he is, and that's 
 all he's fit for. However, it's his way of 
 doing business and I shan't alter him. 
 Well, Mr. Cossey," he went on, ''this is a 
 very sad state of affairs, at any rate so far as 
 I am concerned. I presume of course that 
 you know of the steps which have been taken 
 by Cossey and Son to force a foreclosure, 
 for that is what it amounts to, thouoh I 
 have not as yet received the formal notice ; 
 indeed I suppose that those steps have 
 been taken under your advice." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. de la Molle, I know all about 
 it, and here is the notice calling in the 
 loans," and he placed a folded paper on 
 the table. 
 
 "Ah," said the Squire, "I see. As I 
 remarked to your manager, ]\Ir. Quest, 
 yesterday, I think that considering the 
 
2o6 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C, 
 
 nature of the relatlno.^hip which has existed 
 for so many generations between our family 
 and the business firm of which you are a 
 member, considering too the pecuHar cir- 
 cumstances in which the owners of land 
 find themselves at this moment, and the 
 ruinous loss — to put questions of sentiment 
 aside — that must be inflicted by such sale 
 upon the owner of property, more con- 
 sideration might have been shown. How- 
 ever, it is useless to try to make a 
 silk purse out of a sow's ear, or to get 
 blood from a stone, so I suppose that I 
 must make the best of a bad job — and," 
 with a most polite bow — " I really do not 
 know that I have anything more to say 
 to you, Mr. Cossey. I will forward the 
 notice to my lawyers ; indeed I think that 
 it might have been sent to them in the 
 first instance." 
 
 Edward Cossey had all this while been 
 sitting on an old oak chair, his eyes fixed 
 upon the ground, and slowly swinging his 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 207 
 
 hat between his legs. Suddenly he looked 
 up and to the Squire's surprise said quietly: 
 '' I quite agree with you. I don't think 
 that you can say anything too bad about 
 the behaviour of my people. A Shoreditch 
 Jew could not have done worse. And look 
 here, ]\Ir. de la Molle, to come to the point 
 and prevent misunderstanding, I may as 
 well say at once that with your permission, 
 I am anxious to take up these mortofages 
 mvself, for two reasons : I reo^ard them as 
 a desirable investment even in the present 
 condition of land, and also I wish to save 
 Cossey and Son from the discredit of the 
 step which they meditate." 
 
 For the second time that morninof the 
 Squire looked up with the sharp and search- 
 ing gaze he occasionally assumed, and for 
 the second time his instinct, for he was 
 too heady a man to reason overmuch, 
 came into play and warned him that in 
 making this offer Edward Cossey had other 
 motives than those which he had brought 
 
2oS COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 forward. He paused to consider what they 
 might be. Was he anxious to get the estate 
 for himseh'.'^ Was he put forward by some- 
 body else ? Quest, perhaps ; or was it 
 something to do with Ida ? The first 
 alternative seemed the most probable to 
 him. But whatever the lender's object, 
 the result to him was the same, it gave 
 him a respite. For Mr. de la Molle well 
 knew that he had no more chance of 
 raising the money from an ordinary source 
 than he had of altering the condition of 
 agriculture. 
 
 '' Hum," he said, " this is an Important 
 matter, a most important matter. I presume, 
 Mr. Cossey, that before making this definite 
 offer you have consulted a legal adviser." 
 
 '' Oh yes, I have done all that and am 
 quite satisfied with the security — an advance 
 of thirty thousand charged on all the 
 Honham Castle estates at four per cent. 
 The question now is if you are prepared 
 to consent to the transfer. In that case 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. noc) 
 
 all the old charges on the property will be 
 paid off, and ]\Ir. Quest, who will act for 
 me in the matter, will prepare a simple 
 deed charging the estate for the round 
 total." 
 
 ' "Ah yes, the plan seems a satisfactory 
 one, but of course in so important a matter 
 I should prefer to consult my legal adviser 
 before o-ivino; a final answer, indeed I think 
 that it would be better if the whole affair 
 were carried out in a proper and formal 
 way." 
 
 " Surely, surely, Mr. de la Molle," said 
 the younger man with some irritation, for 
 the old gentleman's somewhat magnificent 
 manner rather annoyed him, which, under 
 the circumstances was not unnatural. 
 " Surely you do not want to consult a 
 legal adviser to make up your mind as to 
 whether or no you will allow a fore- 
 closure. I offer you the money at four 
 per cent. Cannot you let me have an 
 answer now, yes or no ? " 
 
 VOL. I, 14 
 
2IO COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 "■ I don't like being hurried. I can't 
 bear to be hurried," said the Squire 
 pettishly. " These important matters re- 
 quire consideration, a great deal of con- 
 sideration. Still," he added, observing signs 
 of increased irritation upon Edward Cos- 
 sey's face, and not having the slightest 
 intention of throwing away the opportunity, 
 though he would dearly have liked to pro- 
 long the negotiations for a week or two, if 
 it was only to enjoy the illusory satisfac- 
 tion of dabbling with such a large sum of 
 money. " Still, as you are so pressing 
 about it, I really, speaking off hand, can 
 see no objection to your taking up the 
 mortgages on the terms you mention." 
 
 ''Very well, Mr. de la Molle. Now I 
 have on my part one condition and one 
 only to attach to this offer of mine, which 
 is that my name is not mentioned in con- 
 nection with it. I do not wish Cossey and 
 Son to know that I have taken up this 
 investment on my own account. In fact 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 211 
 
 SO necessary to me is It that my name 
 should not be mentioned, that If It does 
 transpire before the affair Is completed I 
 shall withdraw my offer, and If It tran- 
 spires afterwards I shall call the money 
 In. The loan will be advanced by a 
 client of Mr. Quest's. Is that understood 
 between us } " 
 
 " Hum," said the Squire, " I don't quite 
 like this secrecy about these matters of 
 business, but still If you make a point of 
 it, why of course I cannot object." 
 
 " Very good. Then I presume that you 
 will write officially to Cossey and Son 
 stating that the money will be forthcoming 
 to meet their various charges and the over- 
 due Interest. And now I think that we 
 have had about enough of this business for 
 once, so with your permission I will pay 
 my respects to Miss de la Molle before I 
 
 go." 
 
 '' Dear me," said the Squire, pressing 
 
 his hand to his head, " you do hurry me 
 
 14—2 
 
212 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 SO dreadfully — I really don't know where I 
 am. Miss de la Molle is out ; I saw her 
 go out sketching myself. Sit down and 
 we will talk this business over a little 
 more." 
 
 '' No, thank you, Mr. de la Molle, I have 
 to talk about money every day of my life 
 and I soon have enough of the subject. 
 Quest will arrange all the details. Good- 
 bye, don't bother to ring, I will find my 
 horse." And with a shake of the hand he 
 was gone. 
 
 '' Ah ! " said the old gentleman to him- 
 self when his visitor had departed, " he 
 asked for Ida, so I suppose that is what 
 he is after. But it is a queer sort of 
 way to begin courting, and if she finds 
 it out I should think that it would go 
 against him. Ida is not the sort of 
 woman to be won by a money consider- 
 ation. Well, she can very well look after 
 herself, that's certain. Anyway it Has 
 been a good morning's work, but some-? 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 213 
 
 how I don't like that young man any the 
 better for it. I have it — there's something 
 wanting. He is not quite a gentleman. 
 Well, I must find that fellow Georo-e," 
 and he rushed to the front door and 
 roared for " George," till the whole place 
 echoed and the pheasants crowed in the 
 woods. 
 
 After a while there came faint answer- 
 ing yells of '' Coming, Squire, coming," 
 and in clue course George's long form 
 became visible, striding swiftly up the 
 garden. 
 
 *' Well ! " said his master, who was in 
 high good humour, " did you find your 
 man : 
 
 " Well no. Squire — that is, I had a rare 
 hunt after him, and I had just happened 
 of him up a tree when you began to 
 halloa so loud, that he went nigh to 
 fallinor out of it, so I had to tell him to 
 
 o 
 
 come back next week, or the week after." 
 " You happened of him up a tree. 
 
2 14 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Why what the deuce was the man doing 
 up a tree — measuring it ? " 
 
 '' No, Squire, I don't rightly know 
 what he wor after, but he is a curious 
 kind of a chap, and he said he had a 
 fancy to w^ait there." 
 
 ''Good heavens! no wonder the place 
 is going to ruin, when you deal with men 
 who have a fancy to transact their busi- 
 ness up a tree. Well never mind that, I 
 have settled the matter about the mort- 
 gages. Of course somebody, a client of 
 Mr. Quest's, has been found without the 
 least difficulty to take them up at four per 
 cent, and advance the other five thousand 
 too, so that there need be no more 
 anxiety about that." 
 
 '' Well that's a good job at any rate," 
 answered George with a sigh of relief 
 
 '* A good job ? Of course it's a good 
 job, but it is no more than I expected. 
 It wasn't likely that such an eligible 
 investment, as they say In the advertise- 
 
GEORGE PROPHESIES. 215 
 
 ments, would be allowed to go begging 
 for long. But that's just the way with 
 you ; the moment there's a hitch you come 
 with your long face and your uneducated 
 sort of way, and swear that we are all 
 ruined and that the country is breaking 
 up, and that there's nothing before us 
 but the workhouse, and nobody knows 
 what." 
 
 George reflected that the Squire had 
 forgotten that not an hour before he 
 himself had been vowing that they were 
 ruined, while he, George, had stoutly 
 sworn that something would turn up to 
 help them. But his back was accustomed 
 to those vicarious burdens, nor to tell 
 the truth did they go nigh to the breaking 
 of It. 
 
 *' Well it's a good job anyway, and I 
 thank God Almighty for it," said he, 
 '* and more especial since there'll be the 
 money to take over the Moat Farm and 
 give that varmint Janter the boot." 
 
2i6 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 ''Give him what?'' 
 
 '' Why kick him out, sir, for good and 
 all, begging your pardon, sir." 
 
 '' Oh, I see. I do wish that you would 
 respect the Queen's English a little more, 
 George, and the name of the Creator 
 too. By the way the parson was speak- 
 ing to me again yesterday about your 
 continued absence from church. It really 
 is disgraceful ; you are a most confirmed 
 Sabbath-breaker. And now you mustn't 
 waste my time here any longer. Go and 
 look after your affairs. Stop a minute, 
 would you like a glass of port ? " 
 
 ''Well, thank you, sir," said George 
 reflectively, "we hev had a lot of talk 
 and I don't mind if I do, and as for that 
 there parson, begging his pardon, I wish 
 he would mind his own affairs, and leave 
 me to mind mine." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ABOUT ART. 
 
 Edward Cossev drove from the Castle 
 in a far from happy frame of mind. To 
 begin with, the Squire and his con- 
 descendinor way of doings business irritated 
 him very much, so much that once or 
 twice in the course of the conversation 
 he was within an ace of breaking the 
 whole thing off, and only restrained him- 
 self with difficulty from so doing. As it 
 was, notwithstanding all the sacrifices and 
 money risks which he was undergoing to 
 take up these mortgages, and they 
 were very considerable even to a man of 
 his great prospects, he felt that he had 
 been placed in the position of a person 
 who receives a favour rather than of a 
 person who grants one. Moreover there 
 
2iS COLONEL QUARITCII, J\C. 
 
 was an assumption of superiority about 
 the old man, a visible recognition of the 
 gulf which used to be fixed between the 
 gendeman of family and the man of busi- 
 ness who has grown rich by trading in 
 money and money's worth, which was 
 the more galling because it was founded 
 on actual fact, and Edward Cossey knew 
 it. All his foibles and oddities notwith- 
 standing, it w^ould have been impossible 
 for any person of discernment to entertain 
 a comparison between the half ruined 
 Squire and the young banker, who would 
 shortly be worth between half a million 
 and a million sterling. The former was 
 a representative, though a somewhat 
 erratic one, of all that Is best in the 
 old type of Englishmen of gentle blood, 
 which is now so rapidly vanishing, and 
 of the class to which to a large 
 extent this country owes her greatness. 
 His very eccentricities were wandering 
 lights that showed unsuspected heights 
 
ABOUT ART. 219 
 
 and depths in his character — love of 
 country and his country's honour, respect 
 for the rehgion of his fathers, loyalty of 
 mind and valour for the right. Had he 
 lived in other times, like some of the 
 old Boisseys and de la Molles who were 
 at Honham before him, he would pro- 
 bably have died in the Crusades or at 
 Cressy, or perhaps more uselessly, for 
 his king at IVlarston Moor, or like that 
 last but one of the true de la Molles, 
 kneeling in the courtyard of his Castle 
 and defying his enemies to wring his 
 secret from him. Now few such op- 
 portunities are left to men of his stamp, 
 and they are, perhaps as a consequence, 
 dying out of an age which is unsuited 
 to them, and indeed to most strong 
 growths of individual character. It would 
 be much easier to deal with a gentleman 
 like the Squire of this history if we could 
 only reach down one of those suits of 
 armour from the walls of his vestibule, 
 
220 COLONEL QUARJTCH, V.C 
 
 and put It on his back, and take that 
 long two-handled sword which last flashed 
 on Flodden Field from its resting-place 
 beneath the clock, and at the end see 
 him die as a loyal knight should^ do in 
 the forefront of his retainers, with the old 
 war cry of " ^ Delamol — a Dela77ioV' upon 
 his lips. As it is, he is an aristocratic 
 anachronism, an entity unfitted to deal 
 with the elements of our advanced and 
 in some ways emasculated age. His body 
 should have been where his heart was — 
 In the past. What chance have such as 
 he against the Quests of this polite era of 
 political economy and penny papers ? 
 
 No wonder that Edward Cossey felt his 
 inferiority to this symbol and type of the 
 things that no more are, yes even in 
 the shadow of his thirty thousand pounds. 
 For here we have a different breed. Gold- 
 smiths two centuries aq;o, then bankers 
 from generation -to generation, money 
 bees seeking for wealth and counting it 
 
ABOUT ART. 221 
 
 and hiving it from decade to decade, till 
 at last gold became to them what honour 
 is to the nobler stock — the pervading prin- 
 ciple, and the clink of the guinea and the 
 rustline of the bank note stirred their 
 blood as the clang of armed men and the 
 sound of the flapping banner with its three 
 golden hawks flaming in the sun, was 
 wont to set the hearts of the race of 
 Boissey, of Dofferleigh and of de la Molle, 
 beating to that tune to which England 
 marched on to win the world. 
 
 It is a foolish and vain thing to scoft 
 at business and those who do it in the 
 market places, [and to shout out the old 
 war cries of our fathers, in the face of a 
 generation which sings the song of capital, 
 or groans in heavy labour beneath the 
 banners of their copyrighted trade marks ; 
 and besides, who would buy our books 
 (also copyrighted except in America) if 
 we did ? Let us rather rise up and 
 clothe ourselves, and put a tall hat upon 
 
222 COLONEL QUARJTCH, V.C. 
 
 our heads and do homage to the new 
 Democracy. 
 
 And yet in the depths of our hearts 
 and the quiet of our chambers let us 
 sometimes cry to the old days, and the 
 old men, and the old ways of thought, let 
 us cry ''Ave atqiie vale, — ^Hail and fare- 
 well." Our fathers' armour hangs above 
 the door, their portraits decorate the wall, 
 and their fierce and half-tamed hearts 
 moulder beneath the stones of yonder 
 church. Hail and farewell to you, our 
 fathers ! Perchance a man might have 
 had worse company than he met with at 
 your boards, and even have found it 
 not more hard to die beneath your 
 sword-cuts than to be gently cozened 
 to the grave by duly qualified practi- 
 tioners at two guineas a visit. 
 
 And the upshot of all this is that the 
 Squire was not altogether wrong when he 
 declared in the silence of his chamber 
 that Edward Cossey was not quite ajgentle- 
 
ABOUT ART. 223 
 
 man. He showed it when he allowed 
 himself to be guided by the arts of Mr. 
 Quest into the adoption of the idea of 
 obtaining a lien upon Ida, to be enforced 
 if convenient. He showed it again, and 
 what is more he committed a huge mistake, 
 when tempted thereto by the opportunity 
 of the moment, he made a conditional bar- 
 gain w^ith the said Ida, whereby she was 
 placed in pledge for a sum of thirty 
 thousand pounds, well knowing that her 
 honour would be equal to the test, and that 
 if convenient to him she would be ready 
 to pay the debt. He made a huge mis- 
 take, for had he been quite a gentle- 
 man, he would have known that he could 
 not have adopted a worse road to the 
 affections of a lady. Had he been content 
 to advance the money and then by-and-bye, 
 though even that would not have been 
 gentlemanlike, have gently let transpire 
 what he had done at great personal ex- 
 pense and inconvenience, her imagination 
 
224 COLONEL QUARjrCH, V.C. 
 
 might have been touched and her gratitude 
 would certainly have been excited. But 
 the idea of bargaining, the idea of purchase, 
 which after what had passed could never 
 be put aside, would of necessity be fatal 
 to any hope of tender feeling. Shylock 
 might get his bond, but of his own act he 
 had debarred himself from the possibility 
 of ever getting more. 
 
 Now Edward Cossey was not lacking 
 in that afterglow of refinement which is 
 left by a course of public school and uni- 
 versity education. No education can make a 
 gentleman of a man who is not a gentleman 
 at heart, for whether his station in life be that 
 of a ploughboy or an Earl the gentleman, 
 like the poet, is born and not made. But 
 it can and does if he be of an observant 
 nature, give him a certain insight into the 
 habits of thought and probable course of 
 action of the members of that class to 
 which he outwardly, and by repute, belongs. 
 Such an insight Edward Cossey possessed, 
 
ABOUT ART. 225 
 
 and at the present moment its possession 
 was troubling him very much. His trad- 
 ing instincts, the desire bred in him to get 
 something for his money, had led him to 
 make the bargain, but now that it was done 
 his better judgment rose up against it. 
 For the truth may as well be told at once, 
 although he would as yet scarcely acknow- 
 ledge it to himself, Edward Cossey was 
 already violently enamoured of Ida. He 
 was by nature a passionate man, and as it 
 chanced she had proved the magnet with 
 power to draw his passion. But as the 
 reader is aware, there existed another com- 
 plication in his life for which he was not 
 perhaps entirely responsible. When still 
 quite a youth in mind, he had suddenly 
 found himself the object of the love of a 
 beautiful and enthralling woman, and had 
 after a more or less severe struggle yielded 
 to the temptation, as, out of a book, many 
 young men would have done. Now to be 
 the object of the violent affection of such 
 VOL. I. 15 
 
226 COLONEL OUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 a woman as Belle Quest is no doubt very 
 flattering and even charming for a while. 
 But if that affection is not returned in kind, 
 if in short the gentleman does not love the 
 lady quite as warmly as she loves him, then 
 in course of time the charm is apt to vanish 
 and even the flattery to cease to give 
 pleasure. Also, when as in the present case 
 the connection is wrong in itself and uni- 
 versally condemned by society, the affection 
 which can still triumph and endure on both 
 sides must be of a very strong and lasting 
 order. Even an unprincipled man dislikes 
 the acting of one long lie such as an 
 intimacy of the sort necessarily involves, 
 and if the man happens to be rather weak 
 than unprincipled, the dislike is apt to 
 turn to loathing, some portion of which will 
 certainly be reflected on to the partner of 
 his ill-doing. 
 
 These are general principles, but the 
 case of Edward Cossey offered no excep- 
 tion to them, indeed it illustrated them 
 
ABOUT ART. 227 
 
 well. He had never been m love with 
 Mrs. Quest ; to begin with she had 
 shown herself too much in love with him 
 to necessitate any display of emotion on 
 his part. Her violent and unreasoning 
 passion wearied and alarmed him, he never 
 knew what she would do next and was 
 kept in a continual condition of anxiety 
 and irritation as to what the morrow might 
 brino^ forth. Too sure of her unalterine 
 attachment to have any pretext for 
 jealousy, he found it exceedingly irksome 
 to be obliged to avoid giving cause for it 
 on his side, which, however, he dreaded 
 doing lest he should thereby bring about 
 some overwhelming catastrophe. Mrs. 
 Quest was, as he well knew, not a woman 
 who would pause to consider consequences 
 if once her passionate jealousy were really 
 aroused. It was even doubtful if the 
 certainty of her own ruin would check her. 
 Her love was everything to her, it was her 
 life, the thing she lived for, and rather than 
 
228 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 tamely lose it, it seemed extremely prob- 
 able to Edward Cossey that she would not 
 hesitate to face shame, or even death. 
 Indeed it was through this great passion 
 of hers, and through it only, that he could 
 hope to influence her. If he could per- 
 suade her to release him, by pointing out 
 that a continuance of the intrigue must 
 involve him in ruin of some sort, all might 
 yet go well with him. If not, his future 
 was a dark one. 
 
 This was the state of affairs before he 
 became attached to Ida de la Molle, after 
 which the horizon grew blacker than ever. 
 At hrst he tried to get out of the difficulty 
 by avoiding Ida, but it did not answer. 
 She exercised an irresistible attraction over 
 him. Her calm and stately presence was 
 to him what the sight of mountain snows 
 is to one scorched by continual heat. 
 He was weary of passionate outbursts, 
 tears, agonies, alarms, presentiments, and 
 all the paraphernalia of secret love. I^ 
 
ABOUT ART. 229 
 
 appeared to him, looking up at the beauti- 
 ful snow, that if once he could reach it life 
 would all be sweetness and light, that there 
 would be no more thirst, no more fear, 
 and no more forced marches throuQ^h those 
 ill-odoured quagmires of deceit. The more 
 he allowed his imagination to dwell upon 
 the picture, the fiercer grew his long- 
 ing to possess it. Also, he knew well 
 enough that to marry a woman like Ida de 
 la Molle would be the greatest blessing 
 that could happen to him, for she would of 
 necessity lift him up above himself She 
 had little money it was true, but that was 
 a very minor matter to him, and she had 
 birth and breedinof and beautv, and a 
 presence which commands homage. And 
 so it came to pass that he fell deeply and 
 yet more deeply In love with Ida, and that 
 as he did so his connection with ^Irs. 
 Quest (although we have seen him but 
 yesterday offering in a passing fit of 
 tenderness and remorse to run away with 
 
230 COLONEL QUARITCIJ, V.C. 
 
 her) became more and more irksome to 
 him. And now, as he drove leisurely back 
 to Boisingham, he felt that he had im- 
 perilled all his hopes by a rash indulgence 
 in his trading instincts. 
 
 Presently the road took a turn and a 
 sight was revealed that did not tend to 
 improve his already irritable mood. Just 
 here the roadway w^as bordered by a deep 
 bank covered with trees which sloped down 
 to the valley of the Ell, at this time of 
 the year looking its loveliest in the soft 
 autumn lights. And here, seated on a 
 bank of turf beneath the shadow of a 
 yellowing chestnut tree, in such position 
 as to get a view of the green valley and 
 flashing river where cattle red and white 
 stood chewing the still luxuriant aftermath, 
 was none other than Ida herself, and 
 what was more, Ida accompanied by 
 Colonel Ouaritch. They were seated on 
 campstools, and in front of each of them 
 was an easel. Clearly they were painting 
 
ABOUT ART. 231 
 
 together, for as Edward gazed, the Colonel 
 rose, came up close behind his com- 
 panion's stool, made a ring of h:s thumb 
 and first finger, gazed critically through It 
 at the lady's performance, then sadly shook 
 his head and made some remark. There- 
 upon Ida turned round and began an ani- 
 mated discussion. 
 
 '' Hang me," said Edward to himself, 
 " If she has not taken up with that con- 
 founded old military frump. Painting 
 together ! Ah, I know what that means. 
 Well, I should have thought that If there 
 was one man more than another whom 
 she would have disliked. It would have 
 been that battered-looklno: Colonel." 
 
 He pulled up his horse and reflected for 
 a moment, then handlno- the reins to his 
 servant, jumped out, and climbing through 
 a gap In the fence walked up to the tree. 
 So engrossed were they In their argument, 
 that they neither saw^ nor heard him. 
 
 *' It's nonsense, Colonel Ouaritch, perfect 
 
232 COLONEL QUARITCH, I'.C. 
 
 nonsense, if you will forgive me for telling 
 you so," Ida was saying with warmth. '' It Is 
 all very well for you to complain that my 
 trees are a blur, and the castle nothing but a 
 splotch, but I am looking at the water, and 
 If I am looking at the w^ater, It Is quite 
 impossible that I should see the trees and 
 the cows otherwise than I have rendered 
 them on the canvas. True art Is to paint 
 what the painter sees and as he sees 
 it." 
 
 •Colonel Quarltch shook his head and 
 sighed. 
 
 *' The cant of the impressionist school," 
 he said sadly; ''on the contrary, the 
 business of the artist is to paint what he 
 knows to be there," and he gazed com- 
 placently at his own canvas, which had 
 the appearance of a spirited drawing of 
 a fortified place, or of the contents of a 
 child's Noah's ark, so stiff, so solid, so 
 formidable were its outlines, trees and 
 animals. 
 
ABOUT ART. 233 
 
 Ida shrugged her shoulders, laughed 
 merrily, and turned round to find herself 
 lace to face with Edward Cossey. She 
 started back, and her expression hardened 
 — then she stretched out her hand and 
 said, '' How do you do ? " in her very 
 coldest tones. 
 
 "How do you do. Miss de la Molle ? " 
 he said, assuming as unconcerned an air 
 as he could, and bowing stiffly to Harold 
 Ouaritch, who returned the bow and went 
 back to his canvas, which was placed a 
 few paces off. 
 
 '' I saw you painting," went on Edward 
 Cossey in a low tone, "so I thought I 
 w^ould come and tell you that I have 
 settled the matter with Mr. de la Molle." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," answered Ida, hitting 
 viciously at a wasp with her paint brush. 
 " Well, I hope that you will find the in- 
 vestment a satisfactory one. And now, if 
 you please, do not let us talk any more 
 about money, because I am quite tired of 
 
234 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 the subject." Then raising her voice she 
 went on, '' Come here, Colonel Quaritch, 
 and Mr. Cossey shall judge between us," 
 and she pointed to her picture. 
 
 Edward glanced at the Colonel with no 
 amiable air. '' I know nothing about art," 
 he said, '' and I am afraid that I must be 
 getting on. Good-morning," and taking off 
 his hat to Ida he turned and went. 
 
 " Umph," said the Colonel, looking after 
 him with a quizzical expression, '' that gen- 
 tleman seems rather short in his temper. 
 Wants knocking about the world a bit, I 
 should say. But I beg your pardon, I 
 suppose that he is a friend of yours, Miss 
 de la Molle ? " 
 
 '' He is an acquaintance of mine," an- 
 swered Ida with emphasis. 
 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 
 
 After this very chilling reception at the 
 hands of the object of his affection, Ed- 
 ward Cossey continued his drive In an 
 even worse temper than before. He reached 
 his rooms, had some luncheon, and then 
 in pursuance of a previous engagement 
 went over to the Oaks to see Mrs. 
 Quest. 
 
 He found her waiting for him in the 
 drawing-room. She was standing at the 
 window with her hands behind her, a 
 favourite attitude of hers. As soon as the 
 door was shut, she turned, came up to 
 him, and grasped his hand affectionately 
 between her own. 
 
 ''It is an age since I have seen you, 
 Edward," she said, "one whole day. 
 
236 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 Really, when I do not see you, I do not 
 live, I only exist." 
 
 He freed himself from her clasp with a 
 quick movement. *' Really, Belle," he said 
 impatiently, *' you might be a little more 
 careful than to go through that sort of per- 
 formance In front of an open window — es- 
 pecially as the gardener must have seen 
 the whole thing." 
 
 *' I don't much care if he did," she said 
 defiantly. "What does It matter? My hus- 
 band Is certainly not In a position to make 
 a fuss about other people." 
 
 ''What does it matter?" he said, stamp- 
 ing his foot. "What does It not matter? 
 If you have no care for your good name, 
 do you suppose that I am Indifferent to 
 mine." 
 
 Mrs. Quest opened her large violet eyes 
 to the fullest extent, and a curious light 
 was reflected from them. 
 
 "You have grown wonderfully cautious all 
 of a sudden, Edward," she said meaningly. 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 237 
 
 *' What is the use of my being cautious 
 when you are so reckless ? I tell you 
 what it is, Belle. We are talked of all over 
 this gossiping town, and I don't like it, 
 and what is more, once and for all, I 
 won't have it. If you will not be more 
 careful, I will break with you altogether, 
 and that is the long and short of it." 
 
 " W^here have you been this morning?" 
 she asked in the same ominously calm 
 voice. 
 
 " I have been to Honham Castle on a 
 matter of business." 
 
 " Oh, and yesterday you were there on 
 a matter of pleasure. Now did you 
 happen to see Ida in the course of your 
 business ? " 
 
 "Yes," he answered, looking her full in 
 the face, '' I did see her, what about it .^ " 
 
 '' By appointment I suppose." 
 
 ''No, not by appointment. Have you 
 done your catechism ? " 
 
 •'Yes — and now I am going to preach a 
 
238 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 homily on it. I see through you perfectly, 
 Edward. You are getting tired of me, 
 and you want to be rid of me. I tell you 
 plainly, that you are not going the right 
 way to work about it. No woman, 
 especially if she be in my — unfortunate 
 position, can tamely bear to see herself 
 discarded for another. Certainly I cannot 
 — and I caution you — I caution you to be 
 careful, because when I think of such a 
 thing I am not quite myself," and suddenly, 
 without the slightest warning (for her face 
 had been hard and cold as stone), she 
 burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 Now Edward Cossey was naturally some- 
 what moved at this sight. Of course he 
 did his best to console her, though with 
 no great results, for she was still sobbing 
 bitterly when suddenly there came a knock 
 at the door. Mrs. Quest turned her face 
 towards the wall and pretended to be read- 
 ing a letter, and he tried to look as un- 
 concerned as possible. 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 239 
 
 *'A telegram for you, sir," said the girl 
 with a sharp glance at her mistress. '' The 
 telegraph boy brought it on here, when he 
 heard that you were not at home, because 
 he said he would be sure to find you 
 here — and please, sir, he hopes that you 
 will give him sixpence for bringing it 
 round, as he thoug-ht it mio^ht be im- 
 portant." 
 
 Edward felt in his pocket and gave the 
 girl a shilling, telling her to say that there 
 was no answer. As soon as she had gone, 
 he opened the telegram. It was from his 
 sister in London, and ran as follows ; 
 
 " Come up to town at once. Father has 
 had a stroke of paralysis. Shall expect 
 you by the seven o'clock train." 
 
 '' What is it '^. " said Mrs. Ouest, notinof 
 the alarm on his face. 
 
 *'Why, my father is very ill. He has 
 had a stroke of paralysis, and I must go 
 to town by the next train." 
 
 "Shall you be long away .^ " 
 
240 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 ''I do not know. How can I tell ? 
 Good-bye, Belle. I am sorry that we 
 should have had this scene just as I am 
 going, but I can't help it." 
 
 " Oh, Edward," she said, catching him 
 by the arm and turning her tear-stained 
 face up towards his own, '' you are not 
 angry with me, are you ? Do not let us 
 part in angsr. How can I help being 
 jealous when I love you so ? Tell me 
 that you do not hate me — or I shall 
 be wretched all the time that you are 
 away." 
 
 ''No, no, of course not — but I must say, 
 I wish that you would not make such 
 shocking scenes — good-bye." 
 
 "Good-bye," she answered as she gave 
 him her shaking hand. ''Good-bye, my 
 dear. If only you knew what I feel here," 
 she pointed to her breast, " you would 
 make excuses for me." Almost before she 
 had finished her sentence he was gone. 
 She stood near the door, listening to hl^ 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS, 241 
 
 retreating footsteps till they had quite died 
 away, and then flung herself in the chair 
 and rested her head upon her hands. " I 
 shall lose him," she said to herself in the 
 bitterness of her heart. " I know I shall. 
 What chance have I against her '^. He 
 already cares for Ida a great deal more 
 than he does for me, in the end he will 
 break from me and marry her. Oh, 
 I had rather see him dead — and myself 
 too." 
 
 Half-an-hour later, Mr. Quest came in. 
 
 *' Where is Cossey ? " he asked. 
 
 ^' Mr. Cossey's father has had a stroke 
 of paralysis and he has gone up to London 
 to look after him." 
 
 ^*0h," said Mr. Quest. ^'Well, if the 
 old gentleman dies, your friend will be one 
 of the wealthiest men in England." 
 
 '' Well, so much the better for him. I 
 am sure money is a great blessing. It 
 protects one from so much." 
 
 **Yes," said Mr. Quest with emphasis, 
 
 VOL. I. 16 
 
242 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 ** SO much the better for him, and all con- 
 nected with him. Why have you been 
 crying ? Because Cossey has gone away 
 — or have you quarrelled with him ? " 
 
 ''How do you know that I have been 
 crying ? If I have, it's my affair. At any 
 rate my tears are my own." 
 
 '' Certainly they are — I do not wish to 
 interfere with your crying — cry when you 
 like. It will be lucky for Cossey if that 
 old father of his dies just now, because 
 he wants money." 
 
 " What does he want money for ? " 
 
 " Because he has undertaken to pay off 
 the mortgages on the Castle estates." 
 
 " Why has he done that, as an invest- 
 ment ? " 
 
 '' No, it is a rotten investment. I believe 
 that he has done it because he is in love 
 with Miss de la Molle, and is naturally 
 anxious to ingratiate himself with her. 
 Don't you know that ? I thought perhaps 
 that was what you had been crying about." 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 243 
 
 " It Is not true," she answered, her Hps 
 quivering with pain. 
 
 Mr. Quest laughed gently. " I think 
 you must have lost your power of observa- 
 tion, w^hlch used to be sufficiently keen. 
 However, of course It does not matter to 
 you. It will In many ways be a most 
 suitable marriage, and I am sure they will 
 make a very handsome couple." 
 
 She made no answer, and turned her 
 back to hide the w^orklngs of her face. 
 For a few moments her husband stood 
 looking at her, a gentle smile playing on 
 his refined features. Then remarking that 
 he must go round to the office, but would 
 be back In time for tea, he went, reflecting 
 with satisfaction that he had given his wife 
 something to think about which would be 
 scarcely to her taste. 
 
 As for Belle Quest, she waited till the 
 door had closed, and then turned round 
 towards It and spoke aloud, as though she 
 were addressing her vanished husband. 
 
 16—2 
 
244 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 " I hate you," she said, with bitter 
 emphasis. *' I hate you. You have ruined 
 my life, and now you torment me as though 
 I were a lost soul. Oh, I wish I were dead ! 
 I wish I were dead ! " 
 
 On reaching his office, Mr. Quest found 
 two letters for him, one of which had just 
 arrived by the afternoon post. The first 
 was addressed in the Squire's handwriting 
 and signed with his big seal, and the other 
 bore a superscription, the sight of which 
 made him turn momentarily faint. Taking 
 up this last with a visible effort, he opened it. 
 
 It was from the '' Tiger," alias Edith, 
 and its coarse contents need not be written 
 here. Put shortly they came to this. She 
 was being summoned for debt. She wanted 
 more money and would have it. If five 
 hundred pounds were not forthcoming and 
 that shortly — within a week, indeed — she 
 threatened, with no uncertain voice, to journey 
 down to Boislngham and put him to an open 
 shame. 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 245 
 
 By the time that Mr. Quest had finished 
 reading this effusion, the cold sweat was 
 standing in beads on his forehead. 
 
 " Great heavens ! " he said, *' this woman 
 will destroy me. What a devil ! And 
 she'd be as good as her word unless I found 
 her the money. I must go up to town at 
 once. I wonder how she got that idea 
 into her head. It makes me shudder to 
 think of her In Boisingham," and he 
 dropped his face upon his hands and 
 groaned In the bitterness of his heart. 
 
 " It is hard," he thought to himself; 
 "here have I for years and years been 
 striving and tolling, labouring to become 
 a respectable and respected member of 
 society, but always this old folly haunts my 
 steps and drags me down, and by heaven 
 I believe that It will destroy me after all." 
 With a sigh he lifted his head, and taking 
 a sheet of paper wrote on it, "I have 
 received your letter, and will come and see 
 you to-morrow or the next day." This 
 
246 COLONEL QUARITCH, V.C. 
 
 note he placed In an envelope, which he 
 directed to the high-sounding name of Mrs. 
 d'Aubigne, Rupert Street, Pimlico — and put 
 it in his pocket. 
 
 Then with another sigh he took up the 
 Squire's letter, and glanced through it. Its 
 length was considerable, but in substance it 
 announced his acceptance of the arrange- 
 ment proposed by Mr. Edward Cossey, 
 and requested that he would prepare the 
 necessary deeds to be submitted to his 
 lawyers. Mr. Quest read the letter ab- 
 sently enough, and threw it down with a 
 little laugh. 
 
 ** What a queer world it is," he said to 
 himself, "and what a ludicrous side there 
 Is to It all. Here Is Cossey advanc- 
 ing money to get a hold over Ida de la 
 Molle, whom he means to marry If he can, 
 and who is probably playing her own 
 hand. Here is Belle madly in love with 
 Cossey, who will break her heart. Here 
 am I loving Belle, who hates me, and 
 
THE TIGER SHOWS HER CLAWS. 247 
 
 playing everybody's game in order to 
 advance my own, and become a respected 
 member of a society I am superior to. 
 Here is the Squire blundering about like 
 a walrus in a horse-pond, and fancying 
 everything is being conducted for his sole 
 advantage, and that all the world revolves 
 round Honham Castle. And then here at 
 the end of the chain is this female harpy, 
 Edith Jones, otherwise d'Aubigne, alias 
 the Tiger, gnawing at my vitals and hold- 
 ing my fortunes in her hand. 
 
 "Bah! it's a queer w^orld and full of 
 combinations, but the w^orst of it is that 
 plot as we will the solution of them 
 does not rest with us, no — not with us." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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