X 
 
 V-N., 

 
 ^> 
 
 ■^ 
 
 t-^^ 
 
 LI E) R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVER5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 623 
 Cx764u 
 
 V.I
 
 
 y ^ ^^^^*-^^ /s^z 
 
 L 
 
 UNDER THE RED DRAGON.
 
 LONDOX: 
 EOBSOX AXD SONS, PRINTERS^ PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
 
 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 g, iobtl. 
 
 By JAMES GRANT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' THE ROMANCE OP WAR,' ' ONLY AN ENSIGN,' KTC, 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18 CATHERINE ST. STRAND. 
 
 1872. 
 
 [All rights reserved,]
 
 
 ^-, 
 
 
 8z3 
 
 G7g4u 
 
 CONTENTS OP VOL. I. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. The Invitation 
 II. The Moth and the Candle 
 
 III. By Express 
 
 IV. WiNNY and Dora Lloyd 
 V. Craigaderyn Court 
 
 VI. Three Graces . 
 vn. Pique 
 
 VIII. Sunday at Craigaderyn 
 IX. The Initials . 
 X. A Perilous Eamble 
 XI. The Fete Champetre 
 XII. On the Cliffs . 
 
 XIII. A Proposal . 
 
 XIV. The Unforeseen 
 XV. What the Moon saw 
 
 XVI. The Secret Engagement 
 
 XVII. What followed it . 
 
 XVIII. Guilfoyle 
 XIX. Two Loves for one Heart 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 13 
 
 37 
 
 50 
 
 64 
 
 89 
 
 no 
 
 124 
 
 157 
 152 
 168 
 
 176 
 191 
 202 
 217 
 228 
 
 243 
 
 255 
 
 1^ 
 
 ^
 
 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE INVITATION. 
 
 'And she is to be there — nay, is there ah'eady; so 
 one more chance is given me to meet her. But 
 for what ? — to part again silently, and more help- 
 lessly bewitched than ever, perhaps. Ah, never 
 will she learn to love me as I love her !' thought I, 
 as I turned over my old friend's letter, not ventur- 
 ing, however, to give utterance to this aloud, as 
 the quizzical eyes of Phil Caradoc were upon me. 
 ' A penny for your thoughts, friend Harry ?' 
 said he, laughing ; * try another cigar, and rouse 
 yourself. What the deuce is in this letter, that it 
 affects you so ? Have you put a pot of money on 
 the wrong horse ?' 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 'A UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 'Been jilted, had a bill returned, or what?' 
 suggested Gwynne. 
 
 'Neither, fortunately,' said I; 'it is simply an 
 invitation from Sir Madoc Lloyd, which rather 
 perplexes me.' 
 
 At this time our regiment was then in the 
 East, awaiting with the rest of the army some 
 movement to be made from Yarna, either towards 
 Bessarabia or the Crimea — men's minds were 
 undecided as to which, while her Majesty's Minis- 
 ters seemed to have no thought on the subject. 
 Our depot belonged to the provisional battalion at 
 Winchester, where Caradoc, Gwynne, two other 
 subalterns, and I, with some two hundred rank 
 and file, expected ere long the fiat of the fates 
 who reign at the Horse Guards to send us forth 
 to win our laurels from the Russians, or, what 
 seemed more probable, a grave where the pest was 
 then decimating our hapless army, in the beaatiful 
 but perilous vale of Aladdyn, on the coast of Bul- 
 garia. 
 
 We had just adjourned from mess, to have a 
 quiet cheroot and glass of brandy-and-water in my 
 quarters, when I received from my man, Owen 
 Evans, the letter the contents of which awakened
 
 THE INVITATION. 3 
 
 SO many new hopes and tantalising wishes in my 
 heart, and on which so much of my fate in the 
 future might hinge. 
 
 The hare, half-empty, or hut partially-furnished 
 single room accorded by the barrack authorities to 
 me as a subaltern, in that huge square edifice built 
 of old by Charles II. for a royal residence, seemed 
 by its aspect but little calculated to flatter the 
 brilliant hopes in question. Though ample in 
 size, it was far from regal in its appurtenances — 
 the barrack furniture, a camp-bed, my baggage 
 trunks piled in one corner, swords and a gun case- 
 in another, books, empty bottles, cigar -boxes, and • 
 a few pairs of boots ostentatiously displayed in a 
 row by Evans, making up its entire garniture, 
 and by very contrast in its meagreness compelling 
 me to smile sadly at myself for the ambitious 
 ideas the letter of my old friend had suggested ; 
 and thus, for a minute or so ignoring, or rather 
 oblivious of, the presence of my two companions, 
 my eye wandered dreamily over the far-extended 
 mass of old brick houses and the gray church 
 towers of the city, all visible from the open window, 
 and then steeped in the silver haze of the moon- 
 Hght.
 
 4 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Sipping their brancly-and-water, eacli with a 
 lighted cheroot between his fingers, their shell- 
 jackets open, and their feet unceremoniously 
 planted on a hard wooden chair, while they 
 lounged hack upon another, were Phil Caradoc 
 and Charley Gwynne. The first a good specimen 
 of a handsome, curly-haired, and heedless young 
 Englishman, who shot, fished, hunted, pulled a 
 steady oar, and could keep his wicket against any 
 man, while shining without effort in almost every 
 manly sport, was moreover a finished gentleman 
 ,^nd thorough good fellow. 
 
 Less fashionable in appearance and less dash- 
 ing in manner, though by no means less soldierlike, 
 Grwynne was his senior by some ten years. He 
 was more grave and thoughtful, for he had seen 
 more of the service and more of the world. Already 
 a gray hair or so had begun to mingle with the 
 blackness of his heavy moustache, and the lines of 
 thought were traceable on his forehead and about 
 the corners of his keen dark-gray eyes ; for he was 
 a hard-working ofiicer, who had been promoted 
 from the ranks when the regiment lay at Barba- 
 does, and was every inch a soldier. And now 
 ,they sat opposite me, waiting, with a half-comical 
 
 ■¥:
 
 THE INVITATION. 5 
 
 expression, for farther information as to tlieir 
 queries ; and tliougli we were great friends, and 
 usually had few secrets from each other, I began 
 to find that I had one now, and that a little 
 reticence was necessary. 
 
 ' You know Sir Madoc's place in North Wales ?' 
 said I. 
 
 ' Of course,' replied Caradoc ; Hhere are few 
 of ours who don't. Half the regiment have been 
 there as visitors at one time or other.' 
 
 * Well, he wishes me to get leave between re- 
 turns — for even longer if I can — and run down 
 there for a few weeks. ". Come early, if possible," , 
 he adds; " the girls insist on having an outdoor 
 fete, and a lot of nice folks are coming. Winny 
 has arranged that we shall have a regimental 
 band — the Yeomanry one too, probably ; then we 
 are to have a Welsh harper, of course, and an itin- 
 erant Merlin in the grotto, to tell every one's 
 fortune, and to predict your promotion and the 
 C.B., if the seer remains sober. While I write, 
 little Dora is drawing up a programme of the dances, 
 and marking off, she says, those which she means 
 to have with you.''' ' 
 
 Here I paused ; but seeing they expected to
 
 6 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 hear more, for the writer was a friend of us all, I 
 read on coolly, and with an air of as much uncon- 
 sciousness as I could assume : 
 
 ^"Lady Estelle Cressingham is with us — hy 
 the way, she seems to know you, and would, I 
 think, like to see more of you. She is a very fine 
 girl, though not pure Welsh ; but that she cannot 
 help — it is her misfortune, not her. fault. We haye 
 also a fellow here, though I don't quite know hovvr 
 he got introduced — Hawkesby Guilfoyle, who met 
 her abroad at Ems, or Baden-Baden, or one of 
 those places where one meets everybody, and he 
 seems uncommonly attentive — so much so, that I 
 wonder her mother permits it ; but he seems to 
 have some special power or influence over the old 
 lady, though his name is not as yet, or ever likely 
 to be, chronicled by Burke or Debrett. In lieu of 
 the goat which your regiment lost in Barbadoes, 
 Winifred has a beautiful pet one, a magnificent 
 animal, which she means to present to the Welsh 
 Fusileers. Tell them so. And now, for yourself, 
 I will take no refusal, and Winny and Dora will 
 take none either ; so pack your traps, and come off 
 so soon as you can get leave. You need not, unless 
 you choose, bring horses ; we have plenty of cavalry
 
 THE INVITATION. 7 
 
 liere. Hope you will be able to stay till the 12tli, 
 and have a shot at the grouse. Meanwhile, believe 
 me, my dear Hardinge, yours, &c., Madoc Mere- 
 DYTH Lloyd." ' 
 
 ' Kindly written, and so like the jolly style of 
 the old Baronet,' said Gw^nne. ' I have ridden 
 with him once or twice in the hunting-field — 
 on a borrowed mount, of course,' added poor 
 Charley, who had only his pay, and, being an en- 
 thusiast in his profession, was no lounger in the 
 service. 
 
 ' But what is there in all this that perplexes 
 you ?' asked Caradoc, who, I suppose, had been 
 attentively observing me. As he spoke, I coloured 
 visibly, feeling the while that I did so. 
 
 ' The difficulty about leave, perhaps,' I stam- 
 mered. 
 
 'You'll go, of course,' said Caradoc. 'His 
 place — Craigaderyn Court — is one of the finest in 
 North Wales ; his daughters are indeed charming; 
 and you are certain to meet only people of the 
 best style there.' 
 
 'Yet he seems to doubt this — what is his 
 name ? — Guilfoyle, however,' said I. 
 
 * What of that ? One swallow — you know the
 
 8 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 adage. I should go, if I had the invitation. His 
 eldest daughter has, I have heard, in her own 
 right, no end of coal-mines somewhere, and many 
 grassy acres of dairy farms in the happy hunting- 
 grounds of the midland counties.* 
 
 *By Jove!' murmured Gwynne, as he lit a 
 fresh cigar ; ' she should he the girl for me.' 
 
 * But I have another inducement than even the 
 fair Winny,' said I. 
 
 'Oho! Lady—' 
 
 'Sir Madoc,' said I hastily, 'is an old friend 
 of my family, and having known me from infancy, 
 he almost views me as a son. Don't mistake me,' 
 I added, reddening with positive annoyance at the 
 hearty laugh my admission elicited ; ' Miss Lloyd 
 and I are old friends too, and know each other a 
 deuced deal too well to tempt the perils of matri- . 
 mony together. We have no draughts ready for 
 the East, nor wdll there he yet awhile ; even our 
 last recruits are not quite licked into shape.' 
 
 ' No,' sighed G-wynne, who had a special charge 
 of the said ' licking into shape.' 
 
 ' And so, as the spring drills are over, I shall 
 try my luck with old K — .' 
 
 The person thus hluntly spoken of was the
 
 THE INVITATION. 
 
 lieutenant-colonel of the depot battalion — one 
 who kept a pretty tight hand over us all in gene- 
 ral, and the subalterns in particular. 
 
 * Stay,' I exclaimed suddenly ; ' here is a post- 
 script. *' Bring Caradoc of yours with you, and 
 Gwynne, too, if you can. Winny has mastered 
 the duet the former sent her, and is anxious to 
 try it over with him." ' 
 
 * Caradoc will only be too happy, if the genius 
 who presides over us in the orderly-room is pro- 
 pitious,' said Phil, colouring and laughing. 
 
 * Thank Sir Madoc for me, old fellow,' said 
 Gwynne half sadly. ' Tell him that the Fates 
 have made me musketry instructor, and that daily 
 I have that 
 
 " Deliglitful task ! to rear the tender thought, 
 To teach the young idea how to shoot'' — 
 
 to set up Taffy and Giles Chawbacon in the 
 Hythe position, and drill them to fire without 
 closing both eyes and blazing in the air.' 
 
 * "In the lawn," adds Sir Madoc, *'we are to 
 have everything — from waltzing to croquet (which, 
 being an old fellow, and being above insteps and 
 and all that sort of thing, I think the slowest
 
 10 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 game known), and from cliquot and sparkling 
 hock to bottled stout and bitter beer — unlimited 
 flirtation too, according to that wag, Dora." ' 
 
 * A tempting bill of fare, especially with two 
 such hostesses,' said Gwynne ; ' but for me to quit 
 Winchester is impossible. Even the stale dodge 
 of '' urgent private affairs" won't serve me. Such 
 droll ideas of the service old Sir Madoc must have, 
 to think that three of us could leave the depot, 
 and all at once, too !' 
 
 ' I shall try my luck, however.* 
 
 ' And I too,' rejoined Caradpc. ' I am entitled 
 to leave. Price of ours will take my guards for 
 me. Wales will be glorious in this hot month. 
 I did all the dear old Principality last year — went 
 over every foot of Snowdonia, leaving nothing un- 
 done, from singing "Jenny Jones" to dancing a 
 Welsh jig at a harvest-home.' 
 
 ' But you didn't go over Snowdonia with such 
 a girl as Winifred Lloyd ?' 
 
 'No, certainly,' said he, laughing, and almost 
 reddening again. ' Nature, even in my native 
 Wales, must be more charming under such bright 
 auspices and happy influence. So Wales be it, if 
 possible. London, of course, is empty just now,
 
 THE INVITATION. 11 
 
 and all who can get out of it will be yachting at 
 Cowes, shooting in Scotland, fishing in Norway, 
 backing the red at Baden-Baden, climbing the 
 Matterhorn, or, it may be, the Peter Botte ; killing 
 buffaloes in America, or voyaging up the Nile in 
 canoes. Kotten-row will be a desert, the opera a 
 place of silence and cobwebs ; and the irresistible 
 desire to go somewhere and be doing something, 
 no matter what, which inspires all young Britons 
 about this time, renders Sir Madoc's invitation 
 most tempting and acceptable.' 
 
 * Till the route comes for the East,' said I. 
 
 ' Potting the Euskies, and turning my mus- 
 ketry theory into practice, are likely to be my chief 
 relaxations and excitement,' said Gwynne, with a 
 good-natured laugh, as he applied his hand to the 
 brandy-bottle. ' At present I have other work in 
 hand than flirting with countesses, or visiting 
 heiresses. But I envy you both, and heartily 
 wish you all pleasure,' he added, as he shook 
 hands and left us early, as he had several squads 
 to put through that most monotonous of all drill 
 (shot drill perhaps excepted) — a course of mus- 
 ketry — betimes in the morning. 
 
 We knew that Gwynne, who was a tall, thin,
 
 12 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 close-flanked, and square -shouldered, but soldier- 
 like fellow, had nothing but his pay ; and having 
 a mother to support, he was fain to slave as a 
 musketry instructor, the five shillings extra daily 
 being a great pecuniary object to him. He was 
 very modest withal, and feared that, nathless his 
 red coat and stalwart figure, his chances of an 
 heiress, even in Cottonopolis, were somewhat 
 slender.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 
 
 Philip Caradoc, perceiving that I was somewhat 
 dull and disposed to indulge in reverie, soon re- 
 tired also, and we separated, intending to mature 
 our plans after morning parade next day, as I knew 
 that secretly Caradoc was very much attached to 
 Winifred Lloyd, though that young lady by no 
 means reciprocated his affection. But I, seized by 
 an irresistible impulse, could not wait for our ap- 
 pointed time ; so, the moment he was gone, I opened 
 my desk, wrote my application for leave, and de- 
 siring Evans to take it to the orderly-room among 
 his first duties on the morrow, threw open a second 
 window to admit the soft breeze of the summer 
 night, lit another cigar, and sat down to indulge 
 in the train of thought Sir Madoc's unexpected 
 letter had awakened within my breast.
 
 14 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Yet I was not much given to reflection — far 
 from it, perhaps ; and it is lucky for soldiers that 
 they rarely indulge much in thought, or that the 
 system of their life is apt to preclude time or 
 opportunity for it. 
 
 I had come home on a year's sick-leave from 
 the West Indies, where the baleful night-dews, 
 and a fever caught in the rainy season, had nearly 
 finished my career while stationed at Up Park 
 Camp ; and now, through the friendly interest of 
 Sir Madoc, I had been gazetted to the "Welsh 
 Fusileers, as I preferred the chances of the coming 
 war and military service in any part of Europe to 
 broiling uselessly in the land of the Maroons. 
 
 Our army was in the East, I have said, 
 encamped in the vale of Aladdyn, between Varna 
 and the sea. There camp-fever and the terrible 
 cholera were filling fast with graves the grassy 
 plain and all the Valley of the Plague, as the 
 Bulgarians so aptly named it ; and though I was 
 not sorry to escape the perils encountered where 
 no honour could be won, I was pretty weary of the 
 daily round at Winchester, of barrack life, of in- 
 lying pickets, guards, parades, and drill. I had 
 been seven years in the service, and deemed myself
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 15 
 
 somewhat of a veteran, tliougli only five-and- 
 twenty. I was weary too of belonging to a pro- 
 visional battalion, wherein, beyond the narrow 
 circle of one's own depot, no two men have the 
 slightest interest in each other, or seem to care if 
 they ever meet again, the whole organisation being 
 temporar}?", and where the duties of such a batta- 
 lion — it being, in effect, a strict military school for 
 training recruits — are harassing to the newly- 
 fledged, and a dreadful bore to the fully-initiated, 
 soldier. 
 
 So, till the time came when the order would 
 be, 'Eastward, ho!' Sir Madoc had opportunely 
 offered me a little relaxation and escape from all 
 this ; and though he knew it not, his letter might 
 be perhaps the means of doing much more — of 
 opening up a path to happiness and fortune, or 
 leaving one closed for ever behind me in sorrow, 
 mortification, and bitterness of heart. 
 
 Good old Sir Madoc (or, as he loved to call him- 
 self, Madoc ap Meredyth Lloyd) had in his youth 
 been an unsuccessful lover of my mother, then 
 the pretty Mary Vassal, a belle in her second 
 season ; and now, though she had long since 
 passed away, he had a strong regard for me. For
 
 16 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 her sake lie had a deep and kindly interest in my 
 welfare; and as he had no son (no heir to his 
 baronetcy, with all its old traditional honours), he 
 quite regarded me in the light of one ; and having 
 two daughters, desired nothing more than that I 
 should cut the service and become one in reality. 
 So many an act of friendship and many a piece of 
 stamped paper he had done for me, when, in the 
 first years of my career, I got into scrapes with 
 rogues upon the turf, at billiards, and with those 
 curses of all barracks, the children of Judea. 
 
 Had I seen where my own good fortune really 
 lay, I should have fallen readily into the snare so 
 temptingly baited for me, a halfpennyless sub. ; for 
 Winifred Lloyd was a girl among a thousand, so 
 far as brilliant attractions go, and, moreover, was 
 not indisposed to view me favourably (at least, so 
 my vanity taught me). But this world is full 
 of cross purposes; people are too often blind to 
 their profit and advantage, and, as Jaques has it, 
 ' thereby hangs a tale.' 
 
 All the attractions of bright-eyed Winny Lloyd, 
 personal and pecuniary, were at that time as 
 nothing to me. I had casually, when idling in >. 
 London, been introduced to, and had met at
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 17 
 
 several places, this identical Lady Cressingliam, 
 whom my friend had mentioned so incidentally 
 and in such an off-hand way in his letter ; and 
 that sentence it was which brought the blood to 
 my temples and quickened all the pulses of my 
 heart. 
 
 She was very beautiful — as the reader will find 
 when we meet her by and by — and I had soon 
 learned to love her, but without quite venturing 
 to say so ; to love her as much as it was possible 
 for one without hope of ultimate success, and so 
 circumstanced as I was — a poor gentleman, with 
 little more in the world save my sword and 
 epaulettes. Doubtless she had seen and read the 
 emotion with which she had inspired me, for 
 women have keen perceptions in such matters ; 
 and though it seems as if it was on her very smile 
 that the mainspring of my existence turned, the 
 whole affair might be but a source of quiet amuse- 
 ment, of curiosity, or gratified vanity to her. 
 
 Yet, by every opportunity that the chances and 
 artificial system of society in town afforded, I had 
 evinced this passion, the boldness of which my 
 secret heart confessed. 
 
 Her portrait, a stately full-length, was in the 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Academy, and how often had I gazed at it, till in 
 fancy the limner's work seemed to become instinct 
 with life ! Traced on the canvas by no unskilful 
 hand, it seemed to express a somewhat haughty 
 consciousness of her own brilliant beauty, and 
 somehow I fancied a deuced deal more of her own 
 exalted 2Josition, as the only daughter of a deceased 
 but wealthy peer, and as if she rather disdained 
 alike the criticism and the admiration of the crowd 
 'of middle-class folks who thronged the Academy 
 halls. 
 
 Visions of her — as I had seen her in the 
 Countess's curtained box at the opera, her rare 
 and high-class beauty enhanced by all the acces- 
 sories of fashion and costume, by brilliance of 
 light and the subtle flash of many a gem amid her 
 hair ; when galloping along the Kow on her beauti- 
 ful satin-skinned bay; or while driving after in 
 the Park, with all those appliances and surround- 
 ings that wealth and rank confer — came floating 
 before me, with the memory of words half uttered, 
 and glances responded to when eye met eye, and 
 told so much more than the tongue might venture 
 to utter. 
 
 Was it mere vanity, or reality, that made me
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 19 
 
 think her smile had brightened when she met me, 
 or that when I rode by her side she preferred me 
 to the many others who daily pressed forward to 
 greet her amid that wonderful place, the Row ? 
 Her rank, and the fact that she was an heiress, 
 had no real weight with me ; nor did these for- 
 tuitous circumstances enhance her merit in my 
 eyes, though they certainly added to the difficulty 
 of winning her. Was it possible that the days 
 of disinterested and romantic love, like those of 
 chivalry, were indeed past — gone with the days 
 
 when 
 
 ' It was a clerk's son, of low degree, 
 Loved the Idng's daughter of Hongarie' ? 
 
 With the love that struggled against humble for- 
 tune in my heart, I had that keenly sensitive 
 pride which is based on proper self-respect. Hope 
 I seemed to have none. What hope could I, 
 Harry Hardinge, a mere subaltern, with little 
 more than seven-and-sixpence per diem, have of 
 obtaining such a wife as Lady Estelle Cressing- 
 ham, and, more than all, of winning the good 
 wishes of her over-awing mamma ? 
 
 Though ' love will venture in when it daurna 
 weel be seen,' I could neither be hanged nor re-
 
 20 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 duced to tlie ranks for my presumption, like the 
 luckless Captain Ogilvie ; wlio, according to the 
 Scottish ballad, loved the Duke of Gordon's bonnie 
 daughter Jean. Yet defeat and rejection might 
 cover me with certain ridicule, leaving the stings 
 of wounded self-esteem to rankle all the deeper, 
 by thrusting the partial disparity of our relative 
 positions in society more unpleasantly and humili- 
 atingly before me and the world ; for there is a 
 snobbery in rank that is only equalled by the 
 snobbery of wealth, and here I might have both to 
 encounter. And so, as I brooded over these things, 
 some very levelling and rather democratic, if not 
 entirely Communal, ideas began to occur to 
 me. 
 
 And yet, for the Countess and those who set 
 store upon such empty facts, I could have proved 
 my descent from Nicholas Hardinge, knight, of 
 King's Newton in Derbyshire ; who in the time 
 of Henry VII. held his lands by the homely 
 and most sanitary tenure of furnishing clean 
 straw for his Majesty's bed when he and his 
 queen, Elizabeth of York, passed that way, to- 
 gether with fresh rushes from the margin of the 
 Trent wherewith to strew the floor of the royal
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 21 
 
 apartment. But this would seem as yesterday to 
 the fair Estelle, who boasted of an ancestor one 
 Sir Hugh Cressingham, who, as history tells us, 
 was defeated and flayed by the Scots after the 
 battle of Stirling; while old Sir Madoc Lloyd, who 
 doubtless traced himself up to Noah ap Lamech, 
 would have laughed both pedigrees to scorn. 
 
 Leaving London, I had striven to stifle as sim- 
 ply absurd the passion that had grown within me, 
 and had joined at Winchester in the honest and 
 earnest hope that ere long the coming campaign 
 would teach me to forget the fair face and witch- 
 ing eyes, and, more than all, the winning manner 
 that haunted me ; and now I was to be cast within 
 their magic influence once more, and doubtless to 
 be hopelessly lost. 
 
 To have acted wisely, I should have declined 
 the invitation and pleaded military duty ; yet to 
 see her once, to be with her once again, without 
 that cordon of guardsmen and cavaliers who daily 
 formed her mounted escort in Rotten-row, and 
 with all the chances our quiet mutual residence in 
 a sequestered country mansion, when backed by 
 all the influence and friendship of Sir Madoc, 
 must afford me, proved a temptation too strong
 
 22 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 for resistance or for my philosophy; so, like the 
 poor moth, infatuated and self-doomed, I resolved 
 once more to rush at the light which dazzled me. 
 
 ' She seems to know you, and ivoulcl like to see 
 more of you,' ran the letter of Sir Madoc. I read 
 that line over and over again, studying it minutely 
 in every way. Were those dozen words simply the 
 embodiment of his own ideas, or were they her 
 personally expressed wish put literally into writing ? 
 Were they but the reflex of some casual remark ? 
 Even that conviction would bring me happiness. 
 And so, after my friends left me, I sat pondering 
 thus, blowing long rings of concentric smoke in 
 the moonlight ; and on those words of Sir Madoc 
 raising not only a vast and aerial castle, but a 
 ' bower of bliss,' as the pantomimes have it at 
 Christmas time. 
 
 But how about this Mr. Hawkesby Guilfoyle ? 
 was my next thought. Could his attentions be 
 tolerated by such a stately and watchful dowager 
 as the Countess ofNaseby? Could Sir Madoc 
 actually hint that such as he might have a chance 
 of success, when I had none ? The idea was too 
 ridiculous ; for I had heard whispers of this man 
 before, in London and about the clubs, where he
 
 THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE. 23 
 
 was generally deemed to be a species of adventurer, 
 the exact source of whose revenue no one knew. 
 One fact was pretty certain : he was unpleasantly 
 successful at billiards and on the turf. 
 
 If he — to use his own phraseology — was daring 
 enough to enter stakes for such a prize as Lord 
 Cressingham's daughter, why should not I ? 
 
 Thus, in reverie of a somewhat chequered kind, 
 I lingered on, while the shadows of the cathedral, 
 its lofty tower and choir, the spire of St. Lawrence, 
 and many other bold features of the view began to 
 deepen or become more uncertain on the city roofs 
 below, and from amid which their masses stood ♦ 
 upward in a flood of silver sheen. 
 
 Ere long the full-orbed moon — that seemed to 
 float in beauty beneath its snow-white clouds, 
 looking calmly down on Winchester, even as she 
 had done ages ago, ere London was a capital, and 
 when the white city was the seat of England's 
 Saxon, Danish, and Norman dynasties, of Alfred's 
 triumphs and Canute's glories — began at last to 
 pale and wane ; and the solemn silence of the 
 morning — for dewy morning it was now — was 
 broken only by the chime of the city bells and 
 clocks, and by the tread of feet in the gravelled
 
 24 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 barrack-yard, as the reliefs went round, and the 
 sentinels were changed. 
 
 The first red streak of dawn was beginning to 
 steal across the east ; the bugles were pealing re- 
 veilles, waking all the hitherto silent echoes of the 
 square ; and just about the time when worthy and 
 unambitious Charley Gwynne would be parading 
 his first squad for * aiming drill' at sundry bull's- 
 eyes painted on the barrack-walls, I retired to 
 dream over a possible future, and to hope that if 
 the stars were propitious, at the altar of that some- 
 what dingy fane, St. George's, Hanover-square, 
 I might yet become the son-in-law of the late 
 Earl of Naseby, Baron Cressingham of Cotteswold, 
 in the county of Northampton, and of Walcot Park 
 in Hants, Lord-lieutenant, custos rotuloruvi, and 
 so forth, as I had frequently and secretly read in 
 the mess-room copy of Sir Bernard Burke's thick 
 royal octavo ; ' the Englishman's Bible' according 
 to Thackeray, and, as I greatly feared, the some- 
 what exclusive lihro cV oro of Mamma Cressingham, 
 who was apt to reverence it pretty much as the 
 Venetian nobles did the remarkable volume of that 
 name.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BY EXPRESS. 
 
 Leave granted, our acceptance of Sir Madoc's in- 
 vitation duly telegraphed — ' wired,' as the phrase 
 is now — our uniforms doffed and mufti substituted, 
 the morning of the second day ensuing saw Cara- 
 doc and myself on the Birmingham railway ei\ 
 route for Chester ; the exclusive occupants of a 
 softly cushioned compartment, where, by the in- 
 fluence of a couple of florins slipped deftly and 
 judiciously into the palm of an apparently uncon- 
 scious and incorruptible official, we could lounge 
 at our ease, and enjoy without intrusion the Times, 
 Punchy or our own thoughts, and the inevitable 
 cigar. 
 
 Though in mufti we had uniform with us ; we 
 believed in it then, and in its influence ; for certain 
 German ideas of military tailoring subsequent to 
 the Crimean war had not shorn us of our epau-
 
 26 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 lettes, and otherwise reduced the character of our 
 regimentals to something akin to the livery of a 
 penny postman or a railway guard. 
 
 Somehow, I felt more hopeful of my prospects, 
 when, with the bright sunshine of July around us, 
 I found myself spinning at the rate of fifty miles 
 per hour by the express train — the motion was 
 almost as imperceptible as the speed w^as exhil- 
 arating — and swiftly passed the scenes on either 
 side, the broad green fields of growing grain, the 
 grassy paddocks, the village churches, the snug 
 and picturesque homesteads of Warwick and Wor- 
 cestershire. 
 
 We glided past Kugby, where Caradoc had 
 erewhile conned his tasks in that great Eliza- 
 bethan pile which is built of white brick with 
 stone angles and cornices, and where in the play- 
 ing fields he had gallantly learned to keep his 
 wicket with that skill which made him our prime 
 regimental bat and bowler too. Coventry next, 
 where of course we laughed as we thought of 
 ' peeping Tom' and Earl Leofric's pretty countess, 
 when we saw its beautiful and tapering spires rise 
 over the dark and narrow streets below. Anon, 
 we paused amid the busy but grimy world of Bir-
 
 BY EXPRESS. 27 
 
 mingham, which furnishes half the world with the 
 implements of destruction ; Stafford, with its 
 ruined castle on a well-wooded eminence ; and ere 
 long we halted in quaint old Chester hy the Dee, 
 where the stately red stone tower of the cathedral 
 rises darkly over its picturesque thoroughfares of 
 the middle ages. 
 
 There the rail went no farther then ; hut a 
 carriage sent by Sir Madoc awaited us at the sta- 
 tion, and we had before us the prospect of a 
 delightful drive for nearly thirty miles amid the 
 beautiful Welsh hills ere we reached his residence. 
 
 ' This whiff of the country is indeed delight-* 
 ful !' exclaimed Caradoc, as we bowled along on a 
 lovely July evening, the changing shadows of the 
 rounded hills deepening as the sun verged west- 
 ward ; ' it makes one half inclined to cut the 
 service, and turn farmer or cattle-breeding squire 
 — even to chuck ambition, glory, and oneself away 
 upon a landed heiress, if such could be found 
 ready to hand.' 
 
 ' Even upon Winifred Lloyd, with her dairy- 
 farms in the midland counties, eh ?' 
 
 Phil coloured a little, but laughed good- 
 humouredly as he replied,
 
 28 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Well, I must confess that slio is somewhat 
 more than my weakness — at present.' 
 
 At Aber-something we found a relay of fresh 
 horses, sent on by Sir Madoc, awaiting us, the 
 Welsh roads not being quite so smooth as a bil- 
 liard-table ; and there certain hoarse gurgling 
 expletives, uttered by ostlers and stable-boys, 
 might have warned us that w^e were in the land of 
 Owen and Hughes, Griffiths and Davies, and all 
 the men of the Twelve Eoyal Tribes, even if there 
 had not been the green mountains towering into 
 the blue sky, and the pretty little ivy-covered inn, 
 at the porch of which sat a white-haired harper (on 
 the watch for patrons and customers), performing 
 the invariable * Jenny Jones' or Ar-hycl-y-nos (the 
 live-long night), and all the while keeping a sharp 
 Celtic eye to the expected coin. 
 
 Everything around us indicated that we were 
 drawing nearer to the abode of Sir Madoc, and that 
 ere long — in an hour or so, perhaps — I should 
 again see one who, by name as well as circumstance, 
 was a star that I feared and hoped would greatly 
 influence all my future. The Eastern war, and, 
 more than all, the novelty of any war after forty 
 years of European peace, occupied keenly the
 
 BY EXPKESS. 29 
 
 minds of all thinking people. My regiment was 
 already gone, and I certainly should soon have to 
 follow it. I knew that, individually and collec- 
 tively, all bound for the seat of the coming strife 
 had a romantic and even melancholy interest, in 
 the hearts of women especially ; and I was not 
 without some hope that this sentiment might add 
 to my chances of finding favour with the rather 
 haughty Estelle Cressingham. 
 
 It was a glorious summer evening when our 
 open barouche swept along the white dusty road 
 that wound by the base of Mynedd Hiraethrog, 
 that wild and bleak mountain chain which rises* 
 between the Dee and its tributaries the Elwey and 
 the Aled. Westward in the distance towered blue 
 Snowdon, above the white floating clouds of mist, 
 with all its subordinate peaks. In the immediate 
 foreground were a series of beautiful hills that 
 were glowing, and, to the eye, apparently vibrating, 
 under a burning sunset. The Welsh woods were 
 in all the wealth of their thickest foliage — the 
 umbrageous growth of centuries ; and where the 
 boughs cast their deepest shadows, the dun deer 
 and the fleet hare lurked among the fragrant fern, 
 ^nd the yellow sunlight fell in golden patches on
 
 30 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 the passing runnel, that leaped flashing from rock 
 to rock, to mingle with the Alwen, or crept slowly 
 and stealthily under the long rank grass towards 
 Llyn-Aled. 
 
 That other accessories might not be wanting 
 to remind us that we were in the land of the 
 Cymri, we passed occasionally the Carneddau, or 
 heaps of stones that mark the old places of battle 
 or burial ; and perched high on the hills the 
 Hafodtai or summer farms, where enormous flocks 
 of sheep — the boasted Welsh mutton — were pas- 
 turing. Then we heard at times the melancholy 
 sound of the horn, by which inmates summon the 
 shepherds to their meals, and the notes of which, 
 when waking the echoes of the silent glen, have an 
 effect so weird and mournful. 
 
 ' By Jove, but we have a change here, Phil,' 
 said I, 'a striking change indeed, from the hot and 
 dusty gravelled yard of Winchester barracks, the 
 awkward squads at incessant drill with dumb-bell, 
 club, or musket ; the pipeclay, the pacing-stick, 
 and the tap of the drum !' 
 
 Through a mossgrown gateway, the design of 
 Inigo Jones, we turned down the long straight 
 avenue of limes that leads to Craigaderyn ; a fine
 
 BY EXPRESS. 31 
 
 old mansion situated in a species of valley, its 
 broad lawn overlooked by the identical craig from 
 which it takes its name, ' the Eock of Birds,' a 
 lofty and insulated mass, the resort of innumer- 
 able hawks, wood-pigeons, and even of hoarse- 
 croaking cormorants from the cliffs about Orme's 
 Head and Llandulas. On its summit are the 
 ruins of an ancient British fort, wherein Sir Jor- 
 werth Goch (i. e. Bed Edward) Lloyd of Craiga- 
 deryn had exterminated a band of Bumpers and 
 Boundheads in the last year of Charles L, using 
 as a war-cry the old Welsh shout of ' Liberty, 
 loyalty, and the long head of hair !' 
 
 On either side of the way spread the lawn, 
 closely shorn and carefully rolled, the turf being 
 like velvet of emerald greenness, having broad 
 winding carriage-ways laid with gravel, the bright 
 red of which contrasted so strongly with the ver- 
 dant hue of the grass. The foliage of the timber 
 was heavy and leafy, and there, at times, could be 
 seen the lively squirrel leaping from branch to 
 branch of some ancient oak, in the hollow of which 
 lay its winter store of nuts ; the rabbit bounding 
 across the path, from root to fern tuft; and the 
 hela-goed, or yellow-breasted martin (still a deni-
 
 32 UNDEB THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 zen of the old Welsh woods), with rounded ears 
 and sharp white claws, the terror of the poultry- 
 yard, appeared occasionally, despite the game- 
 keeper's gun. In one place a herd of deer were 
 browsing near the half-leafless ruins of a mighty 
 oak — one so old, that Owen Glendower had ojice 
 reconnoitred an English force from amid its 
 branches. 
 
 We had barely turned into the avenue, when a 
 gentleman and two ladies, all mounted, came gal- 
 loping from a side path to meet us. He and one 
 of his companions cleared the wire fence in excel- 
 lent style by a flying leap ; but the other, who was 
 less pretentiously mounted, adroitly opened the 
 iron gate with the handle of her riding switch, and 
 came a few paces after them to meet us. They 
 proved to be Sir Madoc and his two daughters, 
 Winifred and Dora. 
 
 ' True to time, "by Shrewsbury clock" !' said 
 he, cantering up ; * welcome to Craigaderyn, gen- 
 tlemen ! We were just looking for you.' 
 
 He was a fine hale-looking man, about sixty 
 years old, with a ruddy complexion, and a keen, 
 clear, dark eye ; his hair, once of raven blackness, 
 was white as silver now, though very curly or
 
 BY EXPRESS. 33 
 
 wavy still ; his eyebrows were bushy and yet dark 
 as when in youth. He was a Welsh gentleman, 
 full of many local prejudices and sympathies ; a 
 man of the old school — for such a school has ex- 
 isted in all ages, and still exists even in ours of 
 rapid progress, scientific marvels, and money- 
 making. His manners were easy and polished, yet 
 without anything either of style or fashion about 
 them ; for he was simple in all his tastes and 
 ways, and was almost as plainly attired as one of 
 his own farmers. 
 
 His figure and costume, his rubicund face, 
 round merry eyes, and series of chins, his ampli- 
 tude of paunch and stunted figure, his bottle-green 
 coat rather short in the skirts, his deep waistcoat 
 and low-crowned hat, were all somewhat Pickwick- 
 ian in their character and tout-ensemhle, save that 
 in lieu of the tights and gaiters of our old friend 
 he wore white corded breeches, and orthodox dun- 
 coloured top-boots with silver spurs, and instead 
 of green goggles had a gold eye-glass dangling at 
 the end of a black-silk ribbon. Strong riding- 
 gloves and a heavy hammer-headed whip com- 
 pleted his attire. 
 
 * Glad to see you, Harry, and you too, Mr. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Caracloc,' resumed Sir Madoc, who was fond of 
 remembering that which Phil — more a man of the 
 world — was apt to forget or to set little store on — 
 that he was descended from Sir Matthew Caradoc, 
 who in the days of Perldn Warbeck (an epoch hut 
 as yesterday in Sir Madoc's estimation) was chan- 
 cellor of Glamorgan and steward of Gower and 
 Helvie ; for wdiat true Welshman is without a 
 pedigree ? ' Let me look at you again, Harry. 
 God bless me ! is it possible that you, a tall fellow 
 with a black moustache, can be the curly fair- 
 haired boy I have so often carried on my back and 
 saddle-bow, and taught to make flies of red spin- 
 ner and drakes' wings, when we trouted together 
 at Llyn Cwellyn among the hills yonder ?' 
 
 ' I think, papa, you would be more surprised if 
 you found him a curly-pated boy still,' said Miss 
 Lloyd. 
 
 ' And it is seven years since he joined the ser- 
 vice ; w^hat a fine fellow he has grown !' 
 
 ' Papa, you are quite making Mr. Hardinge 
 blush !' said Dora, laughing. 
 
 ' Almost at the top of the lieutenants, too ; 
 there is luck for you !' he continued. 
 
 ' More luck than merit, perhaps ; more the
 
 BY EXPRESS. 35 
 
 Yarna fever than either, Sir Madoc,' said I, as he 
 slowly relinquished my hand, which he had held 
 for a few seconds in his, while looking kindly and 
 earnestly into my face. 
 
 It was well browned by the sun and sea of the 
 Windward Isles, tolerably well whiskered and 
 moustached too; so I fear that if the good old 
 gentleman was seeking for some resemblance to the 
 sweet Mary Vassal of the past times, he sought in 
 vain. 
 
 Our horses were all walking now ; Sir Madoc 
 rode on one side of the barouche, and his two 
 daughters on the other. 
 
 * You saw my girls last season in town,' said 
 he ; ^ but when you were last here, Winifred was in 
 her first long frock, and Dora little more than a baby . ' 
 
 ' But Craigaderyn is all unchanged, though ive 
 may be,' said Winifred, whose remark had some 
 secret point in it so far as referred to me. 
 
 ' And Wales is unchanged too,' added Dora ; 
 * Mr. Hardinge will find the odious hat of the wo- 
 men still lingers in the more savage regions ; the 
 itinerant harper and the goat too are not out of 
 fashion ; and we still wear our leek on the first of 
 March.'
 
 36 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 * And long may all this be so !' said her father, 
 ' for since those pestilent railways have come up 
 by Shrewsbury and Chester, with their tides of 
 tourists, greed, dissipation, and idleness are on 
 the increase, and all our good old Welsh customs 
 are going to Caerphilly and the devil ! "Without 
 the wants of over-civilisation we were contented ; 
 but now — Gwell y cliydig gan racl, na llaiur gan 
 avrard,' he added with something like an angry 
 sigh, quoting a Welsh proverb to the effect that a 
 little with a blessing is better than much with 
 prodigality.
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 WINNY AND DOBA LLOYD. 
 
 Both girls were very liandsome, and for their pure 
 and brilliant complexion were doubtless indebted 
 to tlie healthful breeze that swept the green sides 
 of the Denbigh hills, together with an occasional 
 soiqxon of that which comes from the waters of 
 the Irish Sea. 
 
 It is difl&cult to say whether "Winifred could 
 be pronounced a brunette or a blonde, her skin was 
 so exquisitely fair, while her splendid hair was a 
 shade of the deepest brown, and her glorious 
 sparkling eyes were of the darkest violet blue. 
 Their normal expression was quiet and subdued ; 
 they only flashed up at times, and she was a girl 
 that somehow every colour became. In pure white 
 one might have thought her lovely, and lovelier 
 still, perhaps, in black or blue or rose, or any other
 
 38 UNDEE THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 tint or shade. Her fine lithe figure appeared to 
 perfection in her close-fitting habit of dark -blue 
 cloth, and the masses of her hair being tightly 
 bound up under her hat, revealed the contour of 
 her slender neck and delicately formed ear. 
 
 Dora was a smaller and younger edition of her 
 sister — more girlish and more of a hoyden, with 
 her lighter tresses, half golden in hue, floating 
 loose over her shoulders and to beneath her waist 
 from under a smart little hat, the feather and 
 fashion of which imparted intense piquancy to the 
 character of her somewhat irregular but remark- 
 ably pretty face and — we must admit it — rather 
 retrousse nose. 
 
 Pride and a little reserve were rather the pre- 
 dominant style of the elder and dark-eyed sister ; 
 merriment, fun, and rather noisy flirtation were 
 that of Dora, who permitted herself to laugh at 
 times when her sister would barely have smiled, 
 and to say things on which the other would never 
 have ventured ; but this espieglerie and a certain 
 bearing of almost rantipole — if one may use such 
 a term — were thought to become her. 
 
 Winifred rode a tall wiry nag, a hand or two 
 higher than her father's stout active hunter ; but
 
 WINNY AND DORA. LLOYD, 39 
 
 Dora preferred to scamper about on a beautiful 
 Welsh pony, the small head, high withers, flat 
 legs, and round hoofs of which it no doubt in- 
 herited, as Sir Madoc would have said, from the 
 celebrated horse Merlin. 
 
 ' Hope you'll stay with us till the twelfth of 
 next month,' said he. ^ The grouse are looking well.' 
 
 ' Our time is doubtful, our short leave con- 
 ditional. Sir Madoc,' replied Phil Caradoc, who, 
 however, was not looking at the Baronet, but at 
 Winifred, in the hope that the alleged brevity of 
 his visit might find him some tender interest in 
 her eyes, or stir some chord by its suggestiveness 
 in her breast ; but Winny, indifferent apparently 
 to separation and danger so far as he was con- 
 cerned, seemed intent on twirling the silky mane 
 of her horse with the lash of her whip. 
 
 * Then, in about a fortnight after, we shall be 
 blazing at the partridges,' resumed Sir Madoc, to 
 tempt us. * But matters are looking ill for the 
 pheasants in October, for the gamekeeper tells me 
 that the gapes have been prevalent among them. 
 The poults were hatched early, and the wet 
 weather from the mountains has made more havoc 
 than our guns are likely to do.'
 
 40 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Long before tliat time, Sir Madoc, I hope we 
 shall be making havoc among the Eussians,' re- 
 plied Phil, still glancing covertly at Miss Lloyd. 
 
 'Ah, I hope not!' said she, roused apparently 
 this time. ' I look forward to this most useless 
 war with horror and dismay. So many dear 
 friends have gone, so many more are going, it 
 makes one quite sad ! 0, I shall never forget 
 that morning in London when the poor Guards 
 marched !' 
 
 This was addressed, not to Phil Caradoc, but 
 to me. 
 
 ' We knew that we should meet you,' said she, 
 colouring, and adding a little hastily, ' We asked 
 Lady Estelle to accompany us ; but — ' 
 
 ' She is far too — what shall I call it ? — aristo- 
 cratic or unimpressionable to think of going to 
 meet any one,' interrupted her sister. 
 
 * Don't say so, Dora ! Yet I thought the 
 loveliness of the evening would have tempted her. 
 And Bob Spurrit the groom has broken a new pad 
 expressly for her, by riding it for weeks with a 
 skirt.' 
 
 So there was no temptation but ' the loveli- 
 ness of the evening,' thought I ; while Dora said.
 
 WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. 41 
 
 'But she preferred playing over to Mr. Guil- 
 foyle that piece of German music he gave her 
 yesterday.' 
 
 All this was not encouraging. She knew that 
 I was coming — a friend in whom she could not 
 help having, from the past, rather more than a 
 common interest — and yet she had declined to 
 accompany those frank and kindly girls. Worse 
 than all, perhaps she had at that moment this 
 Mr. Hawkesby Guilfoyle hanging over her ad- 
 miringly at the piano, while she played ]us music, 
 presented to her doubtless with some suggestive, 
 secret or implied, meaning in the sentiment or 
 the title of it. 
 
 Jealousy readily suggested much of this, and 
 a great deal more. That Lady Estelle was at 
 Craigaderyn Court had been my prevailing idea 
 when accepting so readily my kind friend's in- 
 vitation. Then I should see her in a very little 
 time now ! I had been resolved to watch well 
 how she received me, though it would be no easy 
 task to read the secret thoughts of one so well 
 and so carefully trained to keep all human emo- 
 tions under perfect control, outwardly at least — a 
 *Belgravian thoroughbred,' as I once heard Sir
 
 42 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Madoc term lier ; but if she changed colour, how- 
 ever faintly, if there was the slightest perceptible 
 tremor in her voice, or a flash of the eye, which 
 indicated that which, under the supervision of 
 the usually astute dowager her mother, she dared 
 scarcely to betray — an interest in one such as me 
 — it would prove at least that my presence was 
 not indifferent to her. Thus much only did I 
 hope, and of such faint hope had my heart been 
 full until now, when I heard all this ; and if I 
 was piqued by her absence, I was still more by 
 the cause of it ; though had I reflected for a 
 moment, I ought to have known that the very 
 circumstances under which I had last parted from 
 her in London, with an expected avowal all but 
 uttered and hovering on my lips when leading her 
 to the carriage, w^ere sufiicient to preclude a girl 
 so proud as she from coming to meet me, even in 
 the avenue, and when accompanied by Winifred 
 and Dora Lloyd. 
 
 * Is Mr. Guilfoyle a musician ?' I asked. 
 
 *A little,' replied Dora; Splays and sings too; 
 but I can't help laughing at him — and it is so 
 rude.' 
 
 ' He says that he is a friend of yours, Harry
 
 WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. 43 
 
 Hardinge ; is lie so ?' asked Sir Madoc, with his 
 bushy brows depressed for a moment. 
 
 'Well, if losing to him once at pool mys- 
 teriously, also on a certain horse, while he 
 scratched out of its engagements another on 
 which I stood sure to win, make a friend, he is 
 one. I have met him at his club, and should 
 think that he — he — ' 
 
 * Is not a good style of fellow, in fact,' said 
 Sir Madoc in a low tone, and rather bluntly. 
 
 * Perhaps so ; nor one I should like to see at 
 Craigaderyn Court.' I cared not to add * especially 
 in the society of Lady Cressingham,' after whom 
 he dangled, on the strength of some attentions or 
 friendly services performed on the Continent. 
 
 ' And so you lost money to him ? We have a 
 Welsh proverb beginning, Dyled ar bawh — ' 
 
 'We shall have barely time to dress, dear 
 papa,' said Miss Lloyd, increasing the speed of 
 her horse, as she seemed to dread the Welsh pro- 
 clivities of her parent ; ' and remember that we 
 have quite a dinner-party to-day.' 
 
 *Yes,' added Dora; 'two country M.P.s are 
 coming ; but, dear ! they will talk nothing but 
 blue-book with papa, or about the crops, fat pigs.
 
 44 UNDER THE EED DEAGON. 
 
 and the county pack ; and shake their heads ahout 
 ministerial policy and our foreign prestige, what- 
 ever that may be. Then we have an Indian 
 colonel with only half a liver, the doctor says, and 
 two Indian judges without any at all.' 
 
 'Dora!' exclaimed Miss Lloyd in a tone of 
 expostulation. 
 
 *Well, it is what the doctor said,' persisted 
 Dora ; ' and if he is wrong can I help it ?' 
 
 * But people don't talk of such things.' 
 
 * Then people shouldn't have them.' 
 
 *A wild Welsh girl this,' said Sir Madoc ; 
 * neither schooling in Switzerland nor London has 
 tamed her.' 
 
 ' And we are to have several count}^ gentlemen 
 who are great in the matters of turnips, top- 
 dressing, and Welsh mutton ; four young ladies, 
 each with a flirtation on hand ; and four old ones, 
 deep in religion and scandal, flannel and coals for 
 the poor ; so, Mr. Hardinge, you and Mr. Caradoc 
 will be quite a double relief to us — to me, cer- 
 tainly.' 
 
 * 0, Dora, how your tongue runs on !' ex- 
 claimed Winifred. 
 
 * And then we have Lady Naseby to act as
 
 WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. 
 
 45 
 
 materfamilias, and play propriety for us all in 
 black velvet and diamonds. Winny, eldest daugh- 
 ter of the house, is evidently unequal to the task.' 
 
 'And the coming fete,' said I, ' is it in honour 
 of anything in particular ?' 
 
 'Yes, something very particular indeed,' re- 
 plied Dora.
 
 46 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Tills was annoyance number two ; for this 
 wealthy but senile old peer had been a perpetual 
 adorer of Lady Estelle, favoured too, apparently, 
 by her mother, and had been on more than one 
 occasion a hete noire to me ; and now I was to 
 meet him here again ! 
 
 ' Papa has told you that I mean to part with 
 my poor pet goat— Carneydd Llewellyn, so called 
 from the mountain whence he came. He is to be 
 sent to the regiment — in your care, too.' 
 
 ' Why deprive yourself of a favourite ? Why 
 deprive it of such care as yours ? Among soldiers,' 
 said I, * the poor animal will sorely miss the kind- 
 ness and caresses you bestow upon it.' 
 
 ' I shall be so pleased to think that our Welsh 
 Fusileers, in the lands to which they are going, 
 will have something so characteristic to remind 
 them of home, of the wild hills of Wales, perhaps 
 to make them think of the donor. Besides, papa 
 says the corps has never been without this emblem 
 of the old Principality since it was raised in the 
 year of the Ke volution.' 
 
 'Most true; but how shall I — how shall we 
 — ^^ever thank you ?' 
 
 I could see that her nether lip — a lovely little
 
 WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. 47 
 
 pouting lip it was — quivered slightly, and that 
 her eyes were full of strange light, though bent 
 downward on her horse's mane ; and now I felt 
 that, for reasons apparent enough, I was cold, even 
 unkind, to this warm-hearted girl ; for we had 
 been better and dearer friends before we knew the 
 Cressinghams. 
 
 She checked her horse a little abruptly, and 
 began to address some of the merest common- 
 places to Phil Caradoc ; who, with his thick brown 
 curly hair parted in the middle, his smiling hand- 
 some face and white regular teeth, was finding 
 great favour in the eyes of the laughing Dora. 
 But now we were drawing near Craigaderyn 
 Court. 
 
 The scenery was Welsh, and yet the house and 
 all its surroundings were in character genuinely 
 English, though to have hinted so much might 
 have piqued Sir Madoc. The elegance and com- 
 fort of the mansion were English, and English too 
 was the rich verdure of the velvet lawn and the 
 stately old chase, the trees of which were ancient 
 enough — some of them at least — to have shel- 
 tered Owen Glendower, or echoed to the bugle of 
 Llewellyn ap Seisalt, whose tall grave-stone
 
 48 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 stands amid the battle-mounds on grassy Castell 
 Coch. 
 
 At a carved and massive entrance-door we 
 aligiited, assisted the ladies to dismount, and 
 then, gathering up their trains, they swept merrily 
 up the steps and into the house, to prepare for 
 dinner ; while Sir Madoc, ere he permitted us to 
 retire, though the first bell had been rung, led us 
 into the hall ; a low-ceiled, irregular, and oak- 
 panelled room, decorated with deers' antlers, 
 foxes' brushes crossed, and stuffed birds of various 
 kinds, among others a gigantic golden eagle shot 
 by himself on Snowdon. This long apartment 
 was so cool that, though the season was summer, 
 a fire burned in the old stone fireplace ; and on a 
 thick rug before it lay a great, rough, red-eyed 
 staghound, that made one think of the faithful 
 brach that saved Llewellyn's heir. 
 
 The windows were half shaded by scarlet 
 hangings ; a hunting-piece or two by Sneyders, 
 with pictures of departed favourites, horses and 
 dogs, indicated the tastes of the master of the 
 house and of his ancestors ; and there too was 
 the skull of the last wolf killed in Wales, more 
 than a century ago, grinning on an oak bracket.
 
 WINNY AND DORA LLOYD. 49 
 
 The butler, Owen Gwyllim, who occasionally 
 officiated as a harper, especially at Yule, was 
 speedily in attendance, and Sir Madoc insisted on 
 our joining him in a stiff glass of brandy-and- 
 water, * as a whet,' he said ; and prior to tossing 
 off which he gave a hoarse guttural toast in Welsh, 
 which his butler alone understood, and at which 
 he laughed heartily, with the indulged familiarity 
 of an old servant. 
 
 I then retired to make an unusually careful 
 toilette ; to leave nothing undone or omitted in 
 the way of cuffs, studs, rings, and so forth, in all 
 the minor details of masculine finery ; hearing • 
 the while from a distance the notes of a piano in 
 another wing of the house come floating through 
 an open window. The air was German ; — could I 
 doubt whose white fingers were gliding over the 
 keys, and xvlio might be standing by, and feeling 
 himself, perhaps, somewhat master of the situa- 
 tion ? 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 CHAPTEK y. 
 
 CEAIGADERYN COURT. 
 
 Apart from Welsh fable and tradition, tlie lands 
 of Craigaderyn had been in possession of Sir 
 Madoc's family for many ages, and for more gene- 
 rations of the line of Lloyd ; but the mansion, the 
 Court itself, is not older than the Stuart times, 
 and portions of it were much more recent, par- 
 ticularly the library, the shelves of which were 
 replete with all that a gentleman's library should 
 contain; the billiard-room and gun-room, where 
 all manner of firearms, from the old long-barrelled 
 fowling-piece of Anne's time down to Joe Manton 
 and Colt's revolver, stood side by side on racks ; 
 the kennels, where many a puppy yelped ; and the 
 stable-court, where hoofs rang and stall-collars 
 jangled, and where Mr. Bob Spurrit — a long- 
 bodied, short-and- crooked-legged specimen of the 
 Welsh groom — reigned supreme, and watered and
 
 CRAIGADERYN COURT. 51 
 
 corned his nags by the notes of an ancient clock 
 in the central tower — a clock said to have been 
 brought as spoil from the church of Todtenhausen, 
 by Sir Madoc's grandfather, after he led the Welsh 
 Fusileers at the battle of Minden. 
 
 Masses of that 'rare old plant, the ivy green,' 
 heavy, leafy, and overlapping each other, shrouded 
 great portions of the house. Oriels, full of small 
 panes and quaint coats of arms, abutted here and 
 there ; while pinnacles and turrets, vanes, and 
 groups of twisted, fluted, or garlanded stone 
 chimney stacks, rose sharply up to break the sky- 
 line. And many a panel and scutcheon of stone 
 were there, charged with the bend, ermine, and 
 pean of Lloyd — the lion rampant wreathed with 
 oak, and armed with a sword — and the heraldic 
 cognizance of many a successive matrimonial alli- 
 ance. 
 
 Some portions of the house, where the walls 
 were strong and the lower story vaulted, were 
 associated, of course, with visits from Llewellyn 
 and Owen Glendower; and there also abode — 
 a ghost. The park, too, was not without its old 
 memories and traditions. Many of its trees were 
 descendants of an ancient grove dedicated to 
 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Druidic worship; and bones frequently found 
 there were alleged by some to be the relics of 
 human sacrifice, by others to be those of Eoman 
 or of Saxon warriors slain by the sturdy Britons 
 who, under Cadwallader, Llewellyn of the Torques, 
 or some other hero of the Pendragonate, had held, 
 in defiance of both, the caer or fort on the summit 
 of Craigaderyn. But the woodlands on which Sir 
 Madoc most prided himself were those of the old 
 acorn season, when Nature planted her own wild 
 forests, and sowed the lawn out of her own lawns, 
 as some writer has it. They were unquestionably 
 the most picturesque, but the trim and orderly 
 chase was not without its beauties too, and there 
 had many grand Eisteddfoddiau been held under the 
 auspices of Sir Madoc, and often fifty harpers at a 
 time had made the woods ring to ' The noble Kace of 
 Shenkin,' or ' The March of the Men of Harlech.' 
 The old Court and its surroundings were such 
 as to make one agree with what Lord Lyttelton 
 wrote of another Welsh valley, where ' the mount- 
 ains seemed placed to guard the charming retreat 
 from invasions ; and where, with the woman one 
 loves, the friend of one's heart, and a good library, 
 one might pass an age, and think it a day.'
 
 CRAIGADERYN COURT. 53 
 
 The gliost was a tall thin figure, dressed some- 
 what in the costume of Henry VIII. 's time ; hut 
 his full-skirted doublet with large sleeves, the cap 
 bordered with ostrich feathers, the close tight 
 hose, and square-toed shoes, were all deep black ; 
 hence his, or its, aspect was sombre in the 
 extreme, shadowy and uncertain too, as he was 
 only visible in the twilight of eve, or the first dim 
 and similarly uncertain light of the early dawn ; 
 and these alleged appearances have been chiefly 
 on St. David's day, the 1st of March, and were 
 preceded by the sound of a harp about the place — 
 but a harp unseen. 
 
 He was generally supposed to leave, or be seen 
 quitting, a portion of the house, where the old 
 wall was shrouded with ivy, and to walk or glide 
 swiftly and steadily, without casting either shadow 
 or foot-mark on the grass, towards a certain 
 ancient tree in the park, where he disappeared — 
 faded, or melted out of sight. On the wall beneath 
 the ivy being examined, a door — the portion of an 
 earlier structure — was discovered to have been 
 built up, but none knew when or why ; and tradi- 
 tion averred that those who had seen him pass — 
 for none dared follow — towards the old tree, could
 
 54 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 make out that Lis figure and face were those of a 
 man in the prime of life, but the expression of the 
 latter was sad, solemn, resolute, and gloomy. 
 
 The origin of the legend, as told to me by 
 Winifred Lloyd, referred to a period rather remote 
 in history, and was to the following effect. 
 
 Some fifteen miles southward from Craiga= 
 deryn is a quaint and singular village named 
 Dinas Mowddwy, situated very strangely on the 
 shelf of a steep mountain overlooking the Dyfi 
 stream — a lofty spot commanding a view of the 
 three beautiful valleys of the Ceryst ; but this 
 place was in past times the abode and fortress of 
 a peculiar and terrible tribe, called the Gwylliad 
 Cochion, or Ked-haired Robbers, who made all 
 North Wales, but more j)ai^ticularly their own 
 district, a bye word and reproach, from the great 
 extent and savage nature of the outrages they 
 committed by fire and sword ; so that to this day, 
 we are told, there may be seen, in some of the 
 remote mountain hamlets, more especially in 
 Cemmaes near the sea, the well-sharpened scythe- 
 blades, which were placed in the chimney-corners 
 overnight, to be ready for them in case of a sudden 
 attack. They were great crossbowmen, those out-
 
 CRAIG ADERYN COURT. 55 
 
 laws, and never failed in their aim ; and so, like 
 the broken clans upon the Highland border, they 
 levied black mail on all, till the night of the 1st of 
 March 1534 ; when, during a terrific storm of 
 thunder, lightning, and wind, Sir Jorwerth Lloyd 
 of Craigaderyn, John Wynne ap Meredydd, and a 
 baron named Owen, scaled the mountain at the 
 head of their followers, fell on them sword in 
 hand, and after slaying a great number, hung one 
 hundred of them in a row. 
 
 One wretched mother, a red-haired Celt, begged 
 hard and piteously to have her youngest son 
 spared ; but Sir Jorwerth was relentless, so the * 
 young robber perished with the rest. Then the 
 woman rent her garments, and laying bare her 
 bosom, said it had nursed other sons and daugh- 
 ters, who would yet wash their hands in the blood 
 of them all. Owen was waylaid and slain by them 
 at a place named to this day Llidiart-y-Barwn, or 
 the Baron's Gate, and Meredydd fell soon after; 
 but for Lloyd the woman, who was a reputed 
 witch, had prepared another fate, as if aiming at 
 the destruction of his soul as well as his body ; 
 for after his marriage with Gwerfyl Owen, he fell 
 madly in love with a golden-haired girl whom he
 
 56 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 met when hunting in the forest near Craigaderyn ; 
 and as he immediately relinquished all attendance 
 at church and all forms of prayer, and seemed to 
 be besotted by her, the girl was averred to be an 
 evil spirit, as she was never seen save in his 
 company, and then only (by those who watched 
 and lurked) ' in the glimpses of the moon.' 
 
 On the third St. David's eve after the slaugh- 
 ter at Dinas Mowddwy, he was seated with Gwerfyl 
 in her chamber, listening to a terrific storm of 
 wind and rain that swept through the valley, over- 
 turning the oldest trees, and shaking the walls of 
 the ancient house, while the lightning played 
 about the dim summits of Snowdon, and every 
 mountain stream and rhaidr, or cataract, rolled 
 in foam and flood to Llyn Alwen or the Conway. 
 
 On a tabourette near his knee she sat, lovingly 
 clasping his hand between her own two, for he 
 seemed restless, petulant, and gloomy, and had 
 his cloak and cap at hand, as if about to go forth, 
 though the weather was frightful. 
 
 ' Jorwerth,' said she softly, 'the last time there 
 was such a storm as this was on that terrible 
 night — you remember ?' 
 
 'When we cut off the Gwylliad Cochion — yes.
 
 CEAIGADEEYN COURT. 57 
 
 root and branch, sparing, as we thought, none, 
 while the rain ran through my armour as through 
 a waterspout. But why speak of it, to-night 
 especially ? Yes, root and branch, even while that 
 woman vowed vengeance,' he added, grinding his 
 teeth. 'But what sound is that?' 
 
 'Music,' she replied, rising and looking round 
 with surprise ; but his tremulous hand, and, more 
 than that, the sudden pallor of his face, arrested 
 her, while the strains of a small harp, struck 
 wildly and plaintively, came at times between the 
 fierce gusts of wind that shook the forest trees 
 and the hiss of the rain on the window-panes , 
 without. Louder they seemed to come, and to 
 be more emphatic and sharp; and, as he heard 
 them, a violent trembling and cold perspiration 
 came over all the form of Sir Jorwerth Lloyd. 
 
 'Heaven pity the harper who is abroad to- 
 night !' said Gwerfyl, clasping her white hands. 
 
 ' Let Hell do so, rather ! ' was the fierce re- 
 sponse of her husband, as his eyes filled with a 
 strange light.' 
 
 At that moment a hand knocked on the 
 window, and the startled wife, as she crouched by 
 her husband's side, could see that it was small
 
 58 UNDEB THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 and delicate, wondrously beautiful too, and radiant 
 with gems or glittering raindrops ; and now her 
 husband trembled more violently than ever. - 
 
 Gwerfyl crossed herself, and rushed to the 
 window. 
 
 ' Strange,' said she ; ' I can see no one.' 
 
 * No one in human form, perhaps,' replied her 
 husband gloomily, as he lifted his cloak. *Look 
 again, dear wife.' 
 
 The lady did so, and fancied that close to the 
 window-pane she could see a female face — anon 
 she could perceive that it was small and beautiful, 
 with hair of golden red, all wavy, and, strange to 
 say, unwetted by the rain, and with eyes that were 
 also of golden red, but with a devilish smile and 
 glare and glitter in them and over all her features, 
 as they appeared, but to vanish, as the successive 
 flashes of lightning passed. With terror and fore- 
 boding of evil, she turned to her startled husband. 
 He was a pale and handsome man, with an 
 aquiline nose, a finely-cut mouth and chin ; but 
 now his lips were firmly compressed, a flashing 
 and fiery light seemed to sparkle in his eyes, his 
 forehead was covered with lines, and the veins of 
 his temples were swollen, while his black hair and
 
 CRAIGADERYN COURT. 59 
 
 moustaclie seemed to have actually become streaked 
 with gray. What unknown emotion caused all 
 this ? There were power and passion in his 
 bearing ; but something strange, and dark, and 
 demon-like was brooding in his soul. The white 
 drops glittered on his brow as he threw his cloak 
 about him, and then the notes of the harp were 
 heard, as if struck triumphantly and joyously. 
 
 ' Stay, stay ! leave me not !' implored his wife 
 on her knees, in a sudden access of terror and 
 pity, that proved greater even than love. 
 
 * I cannot — I cannot ! God pardon me and 
 bless you, dear, dear wife, but go I must!' 
 
 ('Exactly like Rudolph, as we saw him last 
 night in the opera, breaking away from his follow- 
 ers when he heard the voice of Lurline singing 
 amid the waters of the Rhine,' added Winifred in 
 a parenthesis, as she laid her hand timidly on 
 my arm.) 
 
 She strove on her knees to place in his hand 
 the small ivory-bound volume of prayers which 
 ladies then carried slung by a chain at their girdle, 
 even as a watch is now ; but he thrust it aside, as 
 if it scorched his fingers. Then he kissed her 
 wildly, and broke away.
 
 60 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 She sprang from the floor, but he Vt^as gone — 
 gone swiftly into the forest ; and with sorrow and 
 prayer in her heart his wife stealthily followed 
 him. 
 
 By this time the sudden storm had as suddenly 
 ceased; already the gusty wind had died aw^ay, 
 and no trace of it remained, save the strewn leaves 
 and a quivering in the dripping branches ; the 
 white clouds were sailing through the blue sky, 
 and whiter still, in silvery sheen the moonlight 
 fell aslant in patches through the branches on the 
 glittering grass. 
 
 Amid that sheen she saw the dark figure of 
 her husband passing, gliding onward to the old 
 oak tree, and Gw^erfyl shrunk behind another, as 
 the notes of the infernal harp — for such she judged 
 it to be — fell upon her ear. 
 
 * You have come, my beloved,' said a sweet 
 voice ; and she saw the same strangely-beautiful 
 girl with the red-golden hair, her skin of wondrous 
 whiteness, and eyes that glittered with devilish 
 triumph, though to Jorwerth Du they seemed only 
 filled with ardour and the light of passionate love, 
 even as the beauty of her form seemed all round 
 and white and perfect ; but lo ! to the eyes of his
 
 CRAIGADERYN COURT. 61 
 
 wife, who was under no spell, that form was fast 
 becoming like features in a dissolving view, changed 
 to that of extreme old age — gray hairs and wrin- 
 kles seemed to come with every respiration ; for 
 this mysterious love, who had bewitched her hus- 
 band, was some evil spirit or demon of the 
 woods. 
 
 'How long you have been!' said she reproach- 
 fully, for even the sweetness of her tone had 
 suddenly passed away ; * so long that already age 
 seems to have come upon me.' 
 
 ' Pardon me ; have I not sworn to love you for 
 ever and ever, though neither of us is immortal ?' 
 
 ' You are ready ?' said she, laying her head 
 on his breast. 
 
 ' Yes, my own wild love !' 
 
 * Then let us go.' 
 
 All beauty of form had completely passed away, 
 and now Gwerfyl saw her handsome husband in 
 the arms of a very hag ; hollow-cheeked, toothless, 
 almost fleshless, with restless shifty eyes, and 
 gray elf-locks like the serpents of Medusa ; a hag 
 beyond all description hideous : and her long, 
 lean, shrivelled arms she wound lovingly and tri- 
 umphantly around him. Her eyes gleamed like
 
 62 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 two live coals as lie kissed lier wildly and passion- 
 ately from time to time, tlie full blaze of the 
 moonlight streaming upon both their forms. 
 
 Gwerfyl strove to pray, to cry aloud, to move. 
 But her tongue refused its office, and her lips 
 were powerless ; all capability of volition had left 
 her, , and she was as it were rooted to the spot. 
 A moment more, and a dark cloud came over the 
 moon, causing a deeper shadow under the old oak 
 tree. 
 
 Then a shriek escaped her, and when again the 
 moon shone forth on the green grass and the 
 gnarled tree, Gwerfyl alone was there — her hus- 
 band and the hag had disappeared. Neither was 
 ever seen more. 
 
 North Wales is the most primitive portion of 
 the country, and it is there that such fancies and 
 memories still linger longest ; and such was the 
 little family legend told me by Winifred Lloyd. 
 I was thinking over it now, recalling the earnest 
 expression of her bright soft face and intelligent 
 eyes, and the tone of her pleasantly modulated 
 voice, when she, half laughingly and half seriously, 
 had related it, with more point than I can give it, 
 while we sat in a corner and somewhat apart from
 
 CEAIGADERYN COURT. 63 
 
 every one — on the first night I met the Cressing- 
 hams — in a crowded London ballroom, amid the 
 heat, the buzz, and crush of the season — about 
 the last place in the world to hear a story of 
 diablerie; and *the old time' seemed to come 
 again, as I descended to the drawing-room, to 
 meet her and Lady Estelle.
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 THREE GRACES. 
 
 Already having met and been welcomed by my 
 host and his daughters, my first glances round the 
 room were in search of Lady Estelle and her 
 mother. About eighteen persons were present, 
 mostly gentlemen, and I instinctively made my 
 way to where she I sought was seated, idling over 
 a book of prints. Two or three gentlemen were 
 exclusively in conversation with her ; Sir Madoc, 
 who was now in evening costume, for one. 
 
 * Come, Harry,' said he, ' here is a fair friend 
 to whom I wish to present you.' 
 
 ' You forget. Sir Madoc, that I said we had met 
 before ; Mr. Hardinge and I are almost old friends 
 — the friends of a season, at least,' said Lady 
 Estelle, presenting her hand to me with a bright 
 but calm and decidedly conventional smile, and 
 with the most perfect self-possession.
 
 THREE GRACES. 65 
 
 * It makes me so very happy to meet you again,' 
 said I in a low voice, the tone of which she could 
 not mistake. 
 
 * Mamma, too, will he so delighted — you were 
 quite a favourite with her.' 
 
 I howed, as if accepting for fact a sentiment of 
 which I was extremely douhtful, and then after a 
 little pause she added,. 
 
 * Mamma always preferred your escort, you 
 rememher.' 
 
 Of that I was aware, when she wished to leave 
 some more eligible parti — old Lord Pottersleigh, 
 for instance — to take charge of her daughter. 
 
 'I am so pleased that Ave are to see a little 
 more of you, ere you depart for the East; whence, 
 I hear, you are bound,' said she after a little 
 pause. 
 
 Simple though the words, they made my heart 
 beat happily, and I dreaded that some sharp ob- 
 server might read 'in my eyes the expression which 
 I knew could not be concealed from her; and now 
 
 I turned to look for some assistance from Winifred 
 
 r 
 Lloyd ; but, though observing us, she was appar- 
 ently busy with Caradoc ; luckily for me, perhaps, 
 as there was something of awkwardness in my 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 ^Q UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 position witli her. I had flirted rather too much 
 at one time with Winny — heen almost tender — but 
 nothing more. Now I loved Lady Estelle, and 
 that love was indeed destitute of all ambition, 
 though the known difficulties attendant on the 
 winning of such a hand as hers, added zest and 
 keenness to its course. 
 
 When I looked at Winifred and saw how fair 
 and attractive she was, ' a creature so compact 
 and complete,' as Caradoc phrased it, with such 
 brilliance of complexion, such deep violet eyes 
 and thick dark wavy hair ; and when I thought of 
 the girl's actual wealth, and her kind old father's 
 great regard for me, it seemed indeed that I might 
 do well in offering my heart where there was little 
 doubt it would be accepted ; but the more stately 
 and statuesque beauty, the infinitely greater per- 
 sonal attractions of Lady Estelle dazzled me, and 
 rendered me blind to Winny's genuine goodness 
 of soul. 
 
 The latter was every way a most attractive 
 girl. Dora was quite as much so, in her own droll 
 and jolly way ; but Lady Estelle possessed that 
 higher style of loveliness and bearing so difficult 
 to define; and though less natural perhaps than
 
 THREE GRACES. 67 
 
 the Lloyds, she had usually that calm, placid, and 
 unruffled or settled expression of features so pecu- 
 liar to many Englishwomen of rank and culture, 
 yet they could light up at times ; then, indeed, 
 she hecame radiant ; and now, in full dinner dress, 
 she seemed to look pretty much as I had seemed 
 to see her in that haughty full-length by the 
 President of the R. A., with an admiring and 
 critical crowd about it. 
 
 The three girls I have named were all hand- 
 some — each sufficiently so to have been the belle 
 of any room ; yet, though each was different in 
 type from the other, they were all thoroughfy 
 English ; perhaps Sir Madoc would have reminded 
 me that two were Welsh. The beauty of Winifred 
 and Dora was less regular; yet, like LadyEstelle, 
 in their faces each feature seemed so charmingly 
 suited to the rest, and all so perfect, that I doubt 
 much the story that Canova had sixty models for 
 his single Venus, or that Zeuxis of Heraclea had 
 even five for his Helen. 
 
 Lady Estelle Cressingham was tall and full 
 in form, with a neck that rose from her white 
 shoulders like that of some perfect Greek model ; 
 her smile, when real, was very captivating; her
 
 68 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 eyes were dark and deep, and softly lidded witli 
 long lashes ; they had neither the inquiring nor 
 soft pleading expression of Winifred's, nor the 
 saucy drollery of Dora's, yet at times they seemed 
 to have the power of both ; for they were eloquent 
 eyes, and, as a writer has it, ' could light up her 
 whole personnel as if her whole body thought.' 
 
 Her colour was pale, almost creamy ; her fea- 
 tures clearly cut and delicate. She had a well- 
 curved mouth, a short upper lip and chin, that 
 indicated what she did not quite possess — decision. 
 Her thick hair, which in its darkness contrasted 
 so powerfully with her paleness, came somewhat 
 well down, in what is called ^ a widow's peak,' on 
 a forehead that was broad rather than low. Her 
 taste was perfect in dress and jewelry; for though 
 but a girl in years, she had been carefully trained, 
 and knew nearly as much of the world — at least 
 of the exclusive world in which she lived — as her 
 cold and unimpressionable mamma, who seemed 
 to be but a larger, fuller, older, and more stately 
 version of herself; certainly much more of that 
 selfish world than I, a line subaltern of seven 
 years' foreign service, could know. 
 
 A few words more, concerning my approach-
 
 THREE GRACES. 69 
 
 ing departure for the East, were all that could 
 pass between us then ; for the conversation was, 
 of course, general, and of that enforced and heavy 
 nature which usually precedes a dinner-party; 
 but our memories and our thoughts were never- 
 theless our own still, as I could see when her 
 glance met mine occasionally. 
 
 War was new to Britain then, and thus, even 
 in the society at Craigaderyn Court, Caradoc and 
 I, as officers whose regiment had already departed 
 — more than all, as two of the Eoyal Welsh Fusi- 
 leers — found ourselves rather objects of interest, 
 and at a high premium. * 
 
 ' Ah, the dooce ! Hardinge, how d'you do, how 
 d'you do ? Not oif to the seat of war ' (he pro- 
 nounced it ivaiv), * to tread the path of glory that 
 leads to — where does old Gray say it leads to?' 
 said a thin wiry-looking man of more than middle 
 height and less than middle age, his well-saved 
 hair carefully parted in the centre, a glass in his 
 eye, and an easy insouciance that bordered on in- 
 solence in his tone and bearing, as he came bluntly 
 forward, and interrupted me while paying the 
 necessary court to 'Mamma Cressingham,' who re- 
 ceived me with simple politeness, nothing more.
 
 70 UNDEB THE BED DEAGON. 
 
 I could not detect the slightest cordiality in her 
 tone or eye. Though in the Army List, my name 
 was unchronicled by Debrett, and might never be. 
 
 I bowed to the speaker, who was the identical 
 Mr. Hawkesby Guilfoyle of whom I have already 
 spoken, and with whom I felt nettled for pre- 
 suming to place himself on such a footing of 
 apparent familiarity with me, from the simple 
 circumstance that I had more than once — I 
 scarcely knew how — lost money to him. 
 
 ' I am going Eastward ere long, at all events,' 
 said I ; * and I cannot help thinking that some of 
 you many idlers here could not do better than 
 take a turn of service against the Eussians too.' 
 
 ' It don't pay, my dear fellow ; moreover, I 
 prefer to be one of the gentlemen of England, who 
 live at home at ease. I shall be quite satisfied 
 with reading all about it, and rejoicing in your 
 exploits.' 
 
 I smiled and bowed, but felt that he was 
 closely scrutinising me through his glass, which he 
 held in its place by a muscular contraction of the 
 left eye ; and I felt moreover, instinctively and 
 intuitively, by some magnetic influence, that 
 this man was my enemy, and yet I had done him
 
 THREE GRACES. 71 
 
 no wrong. The aversion was certainly mutual. 
 It was somewhat of the impulse that led Tom 
 Brown of old to dislike Dr. Fell, yet, in my in- 
 stance, it was not exactly without knowing ' why.' 
 
 I had quickly read the character of this Mr. 
 Guilfoyle. He had cold, cunning, and shifty eyes 
 of a greenish yellow colour. They seldom smiled, 
 even w^hen his mouth did, if that can be called a 
 smile which is merely a grin from the teeth out- 
 wards. He was undoubtedly gentlemanlike in air 
 and appearance, always correct in costume, suave 
 to servility when it suited his purpose, but 
 daringly insolent when he could venture to be so 
 with impunity. He had that narrowness of mind 
 which made him counterfeit regret for the disaster 
 of his best friend, while secretly exulting in it, if 
 that friend could serve his purposes no more ; the 
 praise or success of another never failed to excite 
 either his envy or his malice ; and doating on 
 himself, he thought that all who knew him should 
 quarrel with those against whom he conceived 
 either spleen or enmity. 
 
 A member of a good club in town, he was 
 fashionable, moderately dissipated, and rather 
 handsome in person. No one knew exactly from
 
 72 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 what source his income was derived; hut vague 
 hints of India stock, foreign honds, and so forth, 
 served to satisfy the few — and in the world of 
 London few they were indeed — who cared a jot 
 ahout the matter. 
 
 Such was Mr. Hawkeshy Guilfoyle, of whom 
 the reader shall hear more in these pages. 
 
 * And so you don't approve of risking your 
 valuable person in the service of the country ?' 
 said I, in a tone which I felt to he a sneering one. 
 
 ' No ; I am disposed to he rather economical 
 of it — think myself too good-looking, perhaps, to 
 fill a hole in a trench. Ha, ha ! Moreover, what 
 the deuce do I want with glory or honour ?' said 
 he in a lower tone ; ' are not self-love or interest, 
 rather than virtue, the true motives of most of our 
 actions ?' 
 
 ' Do you think so ?' 
 
 * Yes, by Jove ! I do.* 
 'A horrid idea, surely !' 
 
 *Not at all. Besides, virtues, as they are 
 often called, are too often only vices disguised.' 
 
 'The deuce!' said Caradoc, who overheard 
 us ; * I don't understand this paradox.' 
 
 *Nor did I intend you to do so,' replied the
 
 THREE GRACES. 73 
 
 other, in a tone that, to say the least of it, was 
 offensive, and made Phil's eyes sparkle. ' But 
 whether in pursuit of vice or virtue, it is an 
 awkward thing when the ruling passion makes 
 one take a wrong turn in life.' 
 
 ' The ruling passion ?' said I, thinking of the 
 money I had lost to him. 
 
 'Yes, whether it be ambition, avarice, wine, 
 or love,' he replied, his eyes going involuntarily 
 towards Lady Estelle ; * but at all times there is 
 nothing like taking precious good care of number 
 one ; and so, were I a king, I should certainly 
 reign for myself.' « 
 
 * And be left to yourself,' said I, almost amused 
 by this avowed cynicism and selfishness. 
 
 ' Well, as Prince Esterhazy said, when he did 
 me the honour to present me with this ring,' he 
 began, playing the while with a splended brilliant, 
 which sparkled on one of his fingers. 
 
 But what the Prince had said I was never 
 fated to know ; for the aphorisms of Mr. Guilfoyle 
 were cut short by the welcome sound of the 
 dinner-gong, and in file we proceeded through the 
 corridor and hall to the dining=room, duly mar- 
 shalled between two rows of tall liverymen in
 
 74 UNDEE THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 powder and plusli, Sir Madoc leading the way 
 with the Countess on his arm, her long sweeping 
 skirt so stiff with brocade, that, as Caradoc whis- 
 pered, it looked like our regimental colours. 
 
 Lady Estelle was committed to the care of a 
 stout old gentleman, who was the exact counter- 
 part of our host, and whose conversation, as it 
 evidently failed to amuse, bored her. Miss Lloyd 
 was led by Caradoc, and Dora fell to my care. 
 Of the other ladies I took little heed ; neither did 
 I much of the sumptuous dinner, which passed 
 away as other dinners do, through all its courses, 
 with entrees and relays of various wines, the 
 serving up of the latter proving in one sense a 
 nuisance, from the absurd ^breaks caused thereby 
 in the conversation. 
 
 The buzz of voices was pretty loud at times, 
 for many of the guests were country gentlemen, 
 hale and hearty old fellows some of them, who 
 laughed with right good will, not caring whether 
 to do so was good ton or not. But while listening 
 to the lively prattle of Dora Lloyd, I could not 
 refrain from glancing ever and anon to where 
 Estelle Cressingham, looking so radiant, yet 
 withal ' so delicately white' in her complexion,
 
 THREE GRACES. 75 
 
 her slender throat and dazzling shoulders, her 
 thick dark hair and tiny ears, at which the dia- 
 mond pendants sparkled, sat listening to her 
 elderly bore, smiling assents from time to time 
 out of pure complaisance, and toying with her 
 fruit knife when the dessert came, her hands and 
 arms seeming so perfect in form and colour, and 
 on more than one occasion — when her mamma 
 was engrossed by courteous old Sir Madoc, who 
 could 'talk peerage,' and knew the quartering of 
 arms better than the Garter King or Eouge 
 Dragon — giving me a bright intelligent smile, 
 that made my heart beat happily; all the more 
 so that I had been afflicted by some painful sus- 
 picion of coldness in her first reception of me — 
 a coldness rather deduced from her perfect self- 
 possession — while I had been farther annoyed to 
 find that her somewhat questionable admirer, 
 Guilfoyle, was seated by her side, with a lady 
 whose presence he almost ignored in his desire to 
 be pleasing elsewhere. 
 
 Yet, had it been otherwise, if anything might 
 console a man for fancied coldness in the woman 
 he loved, or for a partial separation from her by a 
 few yards of mahogany, it should be the lively
 
 76 UNDEK THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 rattle of a lovely girl of eighteen; but wliile 
 listening and replying to Dora, my tliouglits and 
 wishes were with another. 
 
 *I told you how it would be, Mr. Hardinge,' 
 whispered Dora ; ' that the staple conversation of 
 the gentlemen, if it didn't run on the county 
 pack, would be about horses and cattle, sheep, 
 horned and South Down ; or on the British Con- 
 stitution, which must be a very patched invention, 
 to judge by all they say of it.' 
 
 I confessed inwardly that much of what went 
 on around me was so provincial and local — the 
 bishop's visitation, the parish poor, crops and 
 game, grouse and turnips — and proved such bore- 
 dom, that, but for the smiling girl beside me, 
 with her waggish eyes and pretty ways, and the 
 longing and hope to have more of the society of 
 Lady Estelle, I could have wished myself back at 
 the mess of the depot battalion in Winchester. 
 Yet this restlessness was ungrateful; for Craig- 
 aderyn was as much a home to me as if I had 
 been a son of the house, and times there were 
 when the girls, like their father, called me simply 
 'Harry,' by my Christian name. 
 
 The long and stately dining-room, like other
 
 THREE GRACES. 77 
 
 parts of the house, was well hung with portraits. 
 At one end was a full-length of Sir Madoc in his 
 scarlet coat and yellow-topped boots, seated on his 
 favourite bay mare ' Irish Jumper,' with mane and 
 reins in hand, a brass horn slung over his shoul- 
 der, and looking every inch like what he was — 
 the M.F.H. of the county, trotting to cover. 
 Opposite, of course, was his lady — it might almost 
 have passed for a likeness of Winifred — done 
 several years ago, her dress of puce velvet cut low 
 to show her beautiful outline, but otherwise very 
 full indeed, as she leaned in the approved fashion 
 against a vase full of impossible flowers beside a 
 column and draped curtain, in what seemed a 
 windy and draughty staircase, a view of Snowdon 
 in the distance. * Breed and blood,' as Sir Madoc 
 used to say, ' in every line of her portrait, from 
 the bridge of her nose to the heel of her slipper ;' 
 for she was a lineal descendant of y Marcliog 
 givyllt o' Cae Hyiuel, or 'the wild Knight of 
 Caehowel,' a circumstance he valued more than 
 all her personal merits and goodness of heart. 
 
 Some of Dora's remarks about the family por- 
 traits elicited an occasional glance of reprehension 
 from the Dowager of Naseby, who thought such
 
 78 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 relics or eyidences of descent were not to be 
 treated lightly. 
 
 On my inquiring who that lady in the very 
 low dress with the somewhat dishevelled hair was, 
 I had for answer, *A great favourite of Charles 
 II., Mr. Hardinge — an ancestress of ours. Papa 
 knows her name. There was some lively scandal 
 about her, of course. And that is her brother 
 beside her — he in the rose-coloured doublet and 
 black wig. He was killed in a duel about a young 
 lady — run clean through the heart by one of the 
 Wynnes of Llanrhaidr, at the Ring in Hyde 
 Park.' 
 
 'When men risked their lives so, love must 
 have been very earnest in those days,' said Lady 
 Estelle. 
 
 *And very fearful,' said the gentler Winny. 
 ' It is said the lady's name was engraved on the 
 blade of the sword that slew him.' 
 
 *A duel! How delightful to be the heroine 
 of a duel !' exclaimed the volatile Dora. 
 
 ' And who is that pretty woman in the sacque 
 and puffed cap ?' asked Caradoc, pointing to a 
 brisk-looking dame in a long stomacher. She 
 was well rouged, rather clecolletee, had a roguish
 
 THREE GEA.CES. 79 
 
 kissing-patcli in the corner of her mouth, and 
 looked very like Dora indeed. 
 
 ' Papa's grandmother, who insisted on wearing 
 a white rose when she was presented to the Elec- 
 tor at St. James's,' replied Dora; 'and her 
 marriage to the heir of Craigaderyn is chronicled 
 in the fashion of the Georgian era, by gossipping 
 Mr. Sylvanus Urban, as that of '' Mistress Betty 
 Temple, an agreeable and modest young lady 
 with 50,000Z. fortune, from the eastward of Tem- 
 ple Bar." I don't think people were such tuft- 
 hunters in those days as they are now. Do you 
 think so, Mr. Guilfoyle ? 0, I am sure, that if all 
 we read in novels is true, there must have been 
 more romantic marriages and much more honest 
 love long ago than we find in society now. What 
 do you say to this, Estelle ?' 
 
 But the fair Estelle only fanned herself, and 
 replied by a languid smile, that somehow eluded 
 when it might have fallen on me. 
 
 So while we lingered over the dessert (the 
 pine-apples, peaches, grapes, and so forth being 
 all the produce of Sir Madoc's own hot-houses), 
 Dora resumed : 
 
 * And so, poor Harry Hardinge, in a few
 
 80 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 weeks more you will be far away from us, and face 
 to face with those odious Eussians — in a real 
 battle, perhaps. It is something terrible to think 
 of! Ah, heavens, if you should be killed!' she 
 added, as her smile certainly passed away for a 
 moment. 
 
 'I don't think somehow there is very much 
 danger of that — at least I can but hope — ' 
 
 ' Or wounded ! If you should lose a leg — 
 two legs perhaps — ' 
 
 ' He could scarcely lose more,'' said Mr. Guil- 
 foyle. 
 
 ^And come home with wooden ones!' she 
 continued, lowering her voice. * You will look so 
 funny ! 0, I could never love or marry a man 
 with wooden stumps ! ' 
 
 ' But,' said I, a little irritated that she should 
 see anything so very amusing in this supposed 
 contingency, ' I don't mean to marry you.' 
 
 'Of course not — I know that. It is Winny, 
 papa thinks — or is it Estelle Cressingham you 
 prefer ?' 
 
 Lowly and whispered though the heedless girl 
 said this, it reached the ears of Lady Estelle, and 
 caused her to grow if possible paler, while I felt
 
 THREE GRACES. 81 
 
 my face suffused with scarlet ; but luckily all now 
 rose from the table, as the ladies, led by Winifred, 
 filed back alone to the drawing-room ; and I felt 
 that Dora's too palpable hints must have done 
 much to make or mar my cause — perhaps to gain 
 me the enmity of both her sister and the Lady 
 Estelle. 
 
 Sir Madoc assumed his daughter's place at the 
 head of the table, and beckoned me to take his 
 chair at the foot. Owen Gwyllim replenished the 
 various decanters and the two great silver jugs of 
 claret and burgundy, and the flow of conversation 
 became a little louder in tone, and of course less 
 reserved. I listened now with less patience to all 
 that passed around me, in my anxiety to follow 
 the ladies to the drawing-room. Every moment 
 spent out of her presence seemed doubly long and 
 doubty lost. 
 
 The chances of the coming war — loJiere our 
 troops were to land, whether at Eupatoria or Pere- 
 cop, or were to await an attack where they were 
 literally rotting in the camp upon the Bulgarian 
 shore; their prospects of success, the proposed 
 bombardment of Cronstadt, the bewildering orders 
 issued to our admirals, the inane weakness and 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 UNDEB THE BED DKAGON. 
 
 pitiful vacillation, if not worse, of Lord Aberdeen's 
 government, our total want of all preparation in 
 the ambulance and commissariat services, even to 
 the lack of sufficient shot, shell, and gunpowder — 
 were all freely descanted on, and attacked, ex- 
 plained, or defended according to the politics or 
 the views of those present ; and Guilfoyle — who, 
 on the strength of having been attache at the 
 petty German court of Catzenelnbogen, affected a 
 great knowledge of continental affairs — indulged 
 in much Hall talk' on the European situation, till 
 once more the county pack and hunting became 
 the chief topic, and then too he endeavoured, but 
 perhaps vainly, to take the lead. 
 
 *You talk of fox-hunting, gentlemen,' said he, 
 raising his voice after a preliminary cough, * and 
 some of the anecdotes you tell of wonderful leaps, 
 mistakes, and runs, with the cunning displayed 
 by reynard on various occasions, such as hiding 
 in a pool up to the snout, feigning death — a no- 
 tion old as the days of Olaus Magnus — throw- 
 ing dogs off the scent by traversing a running 
 stream, and so forth, are all remarkable enough ; 
 but give me a good buck-hunt, such as I have 
 seen in Croatia ! When travelling there among
 
 THREE GRACES. 83 
 
 the mountains that lie between Carlstadt and the 
 Adriatic, I had the good fortune to reside for a 
 few weeks with my kind friend Ladislaus Count 
 Mosvina, Grand Huntsman to the Emperor of 
 Austria, and captain of the German Guard of 
 Arzieres, and who takes his title from that wine- 
 growing district, the vintage of which is fully 
 equal to the finest burgundy. The season was 
 winter. The snow lay deep among the frightful 
 valleys and precipices of the Yellibitch range, 
 and an enormous rehhock, or roebuck, fully five 
 feet in height to the shoulder, with antlers of vast 
 size — five feet, if an inch, from tip to tip — driven 
 from the mountains by the storm and la bora, the 
 biting north-east wind, took shelter in a thicket 
 near the house. Several shots were fired; but 
 no one, not even J, could succeed in hitting him, 
 till at last he defiantly and coolly fed among the 
 sheep, in the yard of the Count's home farm, 
 where, by the use of his antlers, he severely 
 wounded and disabled all who attempted to dis- 
 lodge him. At last four of the Count's farmers or 
 foresters — some of those Croatian boors who are 
 liable to receive twenty-five blows of a cudgel 
 yearly if they fail to engraft at least twenty-five
 
 84 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 fruit-trees — undertook to slay or capture tlie in- 
 truder. But though they were powerful, hardy, 
 and brave men, this devil of a reUhock, by suc- 
 cessive blows of its antlers, fractured the skulls 
 of two and the thigh-bones of the others, smash- 
 ing them like tobacco-pipes, and made an escape 
 to the mountains. A combined hunt was now 
 ordered by my friend Mosvina, and all the gentle- 
 men and officers in the generalat or district com- 
 manded by him set off, mounted and in pursuit. 
 There were nearly a thousand horsemen ; but the 
 cavalry there are small and weak. I was perhaps 
 the best mounted man in the field. We pursued 
 it for fully twenty-five miles, by rocky hills and 
 almost pathless woods, by ravines and rivers. 
 Many of our people fell. Some got staked, were 
 pulled from their saddles by trees, or tumbled off 
 by running foul of wild swine. Many missed 
 their way, grew weary, got imbogged in the half- 
 frozen marshes, and so forth, till at last only the 
 Count and I with four dogs were on his track, 
 and when on it, we leaped no less than four frozen 
 cataracts, each at least a hundred feet in height 
 — 'pon honour they were. We had gone almost 
 neck and neck for a time ; but the Grand Hunts-
 
 THREE GRACES. 85 
 
 man's horse began to fail liim now (for we had 
 come over terrible ground, most of it being up- 
 hill), and ultimately it fell dead lame. Then 
 whoop — tally-ho ! I spurred onward alone. Just 
 as the furious giant was coming to bay in a nar- 
 row gorge, and, fastening on his flanks and neck, 
 the maddened dogs were tearing him down, their 
 red jaws steaming in the frosty air, the Count 
 came up on foot, breathless and thoroughly blown, 
 to have the honour of slaying this antlered mon- 
 arch of the Dinovian Alps. But I was too quick 
 for him. I had sprung from my horse, and with 
 my unsheathed lianshar or Croatian knife had 
 flung myself, fearlessly and regardless of all dan- 
 ger, upon the buck, eluding a last and desperate 
 butt made at me with his pointed horns. Another 
 moment saw my knife buried to the haft in his 
 throat, and a torrent of crimson blood flowing 
 upon the snow. Then I courteously tendered my 
 weapon by the hilt to the Count, who, in admira- 
 tion of my adroitness, presented me with this 
 ring — a very fine brilliant, you may perceive — 
 which his grandfather had received from the Em- 
 press Maria Theresa, and the pure gold of which is 
 native, from the sand upon the banks of the Drave.*
 
 86 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 And as he concluded his anecdote, which he 
 related with considerahle pomposity and perfect 
 coolness, he twirled round his finger this remark- 
 ahle ring, of which I was eventually to hear more 
 from time to time. 
 
 ' So, out of a thousand Croatian horsemen, 
 you were the only one in at the death ! It says 
 little for their manhood,' said an old fox-hunter, 
 as he filled his glass with burgundy, and pretty 
 palpably winked to Sir Madoc, under cover of an 
 epergne. 
 
 * This may all be true, Harry, or not — only, 
 entre nous, I don't believe it is,' said Phil Caradoc 
 aside to me ; * for who here knows anything of 
 Croatia? He might as well talk to old Gwyllim 
 the butler, or any chance medley Englishman, 
 of the land of Memnon and the hieroglyphics. 
 This fellow Guilfoyle beats Munchausen all to 
 nothing ; but did he not before tell something else 
 about that ring ?' 
 
 ' I don't remember ; but now, Phil, that you 
 have seen her,' said I, in a tone of tolerably- 
 affected carelessness, ^ what do you think of la 
 belle Cressingham ?' . 
 
 * She is very handsome, certainly,' replied Phil
 
 THREE GRACES. 87 
 
 in the same undertone, and luckily looking at his 
 glass and not at me ; * a splendid specimen of her 
 class — a proud and by no means bashful beauty.' 
 
 * Most things in this world are prized just 
 as they are difficult of attainment, or are scarce. 
 I reckon beauty among these, and no woman 
 holds it cheap,' said I, not knowing exactly what 
 to think of Caradoc's criticism. * There is Miss 
 Lloyd, for instance — ' 
 
 'Ah,' said he, with honest animation, 'she 
 is a beauty too, but a gentle and retiring one — 
 a girl that is all sweetness and genuine goodness 
 of heart.' 
 
 ' With some dairy-farms in the midland 
 counties, eh ?' 
 
 * The graces of such a girl are always the 
 most attractive. We men are so constituted that 
 we are apt to decline admiration where it is 
 loftily courted or seemingly expected — as I fear 
 it is in the case of Lady Cressingham — and to 
 bestow it on the gentle and retiring.' 
 
 I felt there was much truth in my friend's 
 remarks, and yet they piqued me so, that I rather 
 turned from him coldly for the remainder of the 
 evening.
 
 88 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Her mother is hauglity, intensely ambitious, 
 and looks forward to a title for lier as high, if 
 not higher, than that her father bore,' I heard 
 Sir Madoc say to a neighbour who had been 
 talking on the same subject — the beauty of Lady 
 Estelle ; ' the old lady is half Irish and half 
 Welsh.' 
 
 ' Rather a combustible compound, I should 
 think,' added Guilfoyle, as, after coffee and cu- 
 ra9oa, we all rose to join the ladies in the 
 drawing-room.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PIQUE. 
 
 The moment I entered the drawing - room, 
 where Winifred Lloyd had been doing her utmost 
 to amuse her various guests till we came, and 
 where undoubtedly the ladies' faces grew brighter 
 when we appeared, I felt conscious that the re- 
 mark of the hoidenish Dora had done me some 
 little mischief. I could read this in the face of 
 the haughty Estelle, together with her fear that 
 others might have heard it; thus, instead of 
 seating myself near her, as I wished and had 
 fully intended, I remained rather aloof, and 
 leaving her almost exclusively to the industrious 
 Guilfoyle, divided my time between listening to 
 Winifred, who, with Caradoc, proceeded to per- 
 form the duet he had sent her from the barracks, 
 and endeavouring to make myself agreeable to the
 
 90 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 Countess — a process rather, I am sorry to say, 
 somewhat of a task to me. 
 
 Though her dark hair was considerably 
 seamed with gray, her forehead was without a 
 line, smooth and unwrinkled as that of a child 
 — care, thought, reflection, or sorrow had never 
 visited her. Wealth and rank, with a naturally 
 aristocratic indolence and indifference of mind, 
 had made the ways of life and of the world — 
 at least, the world in which she lived — easy, soft, 
 and pleasant, and all her years had glided bril- 
 liantly but monotonously on. She had married 
 the late earl to please her family rather than her- 
 self, because he was undoubtedly an eligible 
 ^arti ; and she fully expected their only daughter 
 to act exactly in the same docile manner. Her 
 mien and air were stately, reserved, and uninvit- 
 ing ; her eyes were cold, inquiring, and searching 
 in expression, and I fancied that they seemed to 
 watch and follow me, as if she really and natur- 
 ally suspected me of ' views,' or, as she would have 
 deemed them, designs. 
 
 Amid the commonplaces I was venturing to 
 utter to this proud, cold, and decidedly unpleasant 
 old dame, whose goodwill and favour I was
 
 PIQUE. • 91 
 
 sedulously anxious to gain, it was impossible for 
 me to avoid hearing some remarks that Sir Madoc 
 made concerning me, and to her daughter. 
 
 * I am so glad you like my young friend. Lady 
 Estelle,' said the bluff baronet, leaning over her 
 chair, his rubicund face beaming with smiles and 
 happiness ; for he was in best of moods after a 
 pleasant dinner, with agreeable society and plenty 
 of good wine. 
 
 * Who told you that I did so ?' asked she, 
 looking up with fresh annoyance, yet not un- 
 mixed with drollery, in her beautiful face. 
 
 ' Dora and Winny too ; and I am so pleased, ' 
 for he is an especial friend of ours. I love the 
 lad for his dead mother's sake — she was an old 
 flame of mine in my more romantic days — and 
 doesn't he deserve it ? What do you think the 
 colonel of his old corps says of him ?' 
 
 * Really, Sir Madoc, I know not — that he is 
 quite a lady-killer, perhaps ; to be such is the 
 ambition of most young subalterns.' 
 
 * Better than that. He wrote me, that young 
 Hardinge is all that a British officer ought to be ; 
 that he has a constitution of iron — could sleep 
 out in all weathers, in a hammock or under a
 
 92 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 tree — till the fever attacked liim at least. If 
 provisions were scanty, he'd share his last his- 
 cuit with a comrade ; on the longest and hottest 
 march he never fell out or hecame knocked up; 
 and more than once he has heen seen carrying a 
 couple of muskets, the arms of those whose 
 strength had failed them. " I envy the Eoyal 
 "Welsh their acquisition, and regret that ive have 
 lost him" — these were the colonel's very words.' 
 
 Had I fee'd or hegged him to plead my cause, 
 he could not have heen more earnest or emphatic. 
 
 Tor heaven's sake, Sir Madoc, do stop this 
 overpowering eulogium,' said I; 4t is impossible 
 for one not to overhear, when one's own name is 
 mentioned. But did the colonel really say all 
 this of me ?' 
 
 ' All, and more, Harry.' 
 
 ' It should win him a diploma of knight- 
 bachelor,' said Lady Estelle, laughing, 'a C.B., 
 perhaps a baronetcy.' 
 
 *Nay,' said Sir Madoc; 'such rewards are 
 reserved now for toad-eaters, opulent traders, tuft- 
 hunters, and ministerial tools ; the days when 
 true merit was rewarded are gone, my dear Lady 
 Estelle.'
 
 PIQUE. 93 
 
 The duet over, Phil Caradoc drew near me, 
 for evidently he was not making much progress 
 with Miss Lloyd. 
 
 'Well, Phil,' said I in a low voice, 'among 
 those present have you seen your ideal of woman?' 
 
 'Can't say,' said he rather curtly; 'hut you 
 have, at all events, old fellow, and I think Sir 
 Madoc has done a good stroke of husiness for you 
 hy his quotation of the colonel's letter. I heard 
 him all through our singing — the old gentleman 
 has no idea of a sotto-voce, and talks always as if 
 he were in the hunting-field. By Jove, Harry, 
 you grow quite pink!' he continued, laughing., 
 ' I see how the land lies with you ; hut as for 
 " la mere Cressingham," she is an exclusive of 
 the first water, a match-maker hy reputation ; and 
 I fear you have not the ghost of a chance with her.' 
 
 'Hush, Caradoc,' said I, glancing nervously 
 ahout me ; ' rememher that we are not at Win- 
 chester, or inside the main-guard, just now. But 
 see. Lady Estelle and that fellow Guilfoyle are 
 ahout to favour us,' I added, as the pale heauty 
 spread her ample skirts over the piano-stool, with 
 an air that, though all unstudied, seemed quite 
 imperial, and ran her slender fingers rapidly over
 
 94 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 the white keys, preluding an air ; while Guilfoyle, 
 who had a tolerable voice and an intolerable 
 amount of assurance, prepared to sing by fussily 
 placing on the piano a piece of music, on the 
 corner of which was written in a large and bold 
 hand, evidently his own — ' To Mr. H. Guilfoyle, 
 from H.S.H. the Princess of Catzenelnbogen.' 
 
 ' You must have been a special favourite with 
 this lady,' said Estelle, ' as most of your German 
 music is inscribed thus.' 
 
 ' Yes, we were always exchanging our pieces 
 and songs,' said he languidly and in a low voice 
 close to her ear, yet not so low as to be unheard 
 by me. ' I was somewhat of a favourite with her, 
 certainly; but then the Princess was quite a 
 privileged person.' 
 
 * In what respect ?' 
 
 * She could flirt farther than any one, and yet 
 never compromise herself. However, when she 
 bestowed this ring upon me, on that day when I 
 saved her life, by arresting her runaway horse on 
 the very brink of the Rhine, I must own that his 
 Highness the Prince was the reverse of pleased, 
 and viewed me with coldness ever after; so that 
 ultimately I resigned my office of attache, just
 
 PIQUE. 95 
 
 about the time I had the pleasure — may I call it 
 the joy ? — of meeting you.' 
 
 * fie, Mr. Guilfoyle ! were you actually flirt- 
 ing with her ?' 
 
 * Nay, pardon me ; I never flirt.' 
 
 * You were in love then ?' 
 
 * I was never in love till — ' 
 
 A crash of notes as she resumed the air inter- 
 rupted whatever he was about to say ; but his eye 
 told more than his bold tongue would perhaps 
 have dared to utter in such a time or place ; and, 
 aware that they had met on the Continent, and 
 had been for some time together in the seclusion* 
 of Craigaderyn, I began to fear that he must have 
 far surpassed me in the chances of interest with 
 her. Moreover, Dora's foolish remark might 
 reasonably lead her to suppose that I was already 
 involved with Winifred ; and now, with a some- 
 what cloudy expression in my face (as a mirror 
 close by informed me), and a keen sense of pique 
 in my heart, I listened while she played the ac- 
 companiment to his pretty long German song, the 
 burden of which seemed to be ever and always — 
 
 ' Acli nein ! ach nein ! icli clarf es nich. 
 Leb' wohl ! Leb' wolil ! Leb' wohl !'
 
 96 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Sir Madoc, who had listened with some secret 
 impatience to this most protracted German ditty, 
 now begged his fair guest to favour him with 
 something Welsh; but as she knew no airs 
 pertaining to the locality, she resigned her place 
 to Winifred, whom I led across the room, and by 
 whose side I remained. After the showy perform- 
 ances of Lady Estelle, she was somewhat reluct- 
 ant to begin : all the more so, perhaps, that her 
 friend — with rather questionable taste, certainly — 
 was wont, in a spirit of mischief or raillery — but 
 one pardons so much in lovely woman, especially 
 one of rank — to quiz Wales, its music and pro- 
 vincialism ; just as, when in the Highlands, she 
 had laughed at the natives, and voted * their sham 
 chiefs and gatherings as delightfully absurd.' 
 
 Finding that his daughter lingered ere she 
 began, and half suspecting the cause. Sir Madoc 
 threatened to send for Owen Gwyllim, the butler, 
 with his harp. Owen had frequently accompanied 
 her with his instrument ; but though that passed 
 well enough occasionally among homely Welsh 
 folks, it would never do when Lady Naseby and 
 certain others were present. 
 
 ' It is useless for an English girl to sing in a
 
 PIQUE. 97 
 
 foreign language, or attempt to rival paid profes- 
 sional artists, by mourning like Mario from the tur- 
 ret, or bawling like Eclgardo in the burying-ground, 
 or to give us " Stride la vampa" in a fashion that 
 would terrify Alboni,' said Sir Madoc, ' or indeed to 
 attempt any of those operatic effusions with which 
 every hand organ has made us familiar. So come, 
 Winny, a Welsh air, or I shall ring for Owen.' 
 
 This rather blundering speech caused Lady 
 Estelle to smile, and Guilfoyle, whose *Leb' wohF 
 had been something of the style objected to, 
 coloured very perceptibly. 
 
 Thus urged, Winifred played and sang with 
 great spirit * The March of the Men of Harlech ;' 
 doubtless as much to compliment Caradoc and me 
 as to please her father ; for it was then our regi- 
 mental march ; and, apart from its old Welsh 
 associations, it is one of the finest effusions of our 
 old harpers. 
 
 Sir Madoc beat time, while his eyes lit up 
 with enthusiasm, and he patted his daughter's 
 plump white shoulders kindly with his weather- 
 browned but handsome hands ; for the old gentle- 
 man rather despised gloves, indoors especially, as 
 effeminate. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 Winifred had striven to please rather than to 
 excel; and though tremulous at times, her voice 
 was most attractive. 
 
 * Thank you,' said I, in a low and earnest tone; 
 ' your execution is just of that peculiar kind which 
 leaves nothing more to be wished for, and while 
 it lasts, Winny, inspires a sense of joy in one's 
 heart.' 
 
 * You flatter me much — far too much,' replied 
 Miss Lloyd in a lower and still more tremulous 
 tone, as she grew very pale ; for some girls will 
 do so, when others would flush with emotion, and 
 it was evident that my praise gave her pleasure ; 
 she attached more to my words than they meant. 
 
 An undefinable feeling of pique now possessed 
 me — a sensation of disappointment most difficult 
 to describe ; but it arose from a sense of doubt as 
 to how I really stood in the estimation of the fair 
 Estelle. Taking an opportunity, while Sir Madoc 
 was emphatically discussing the points and pedi- 
 grees of certain horses and harriers with Guilfoyle 
 and other male friends, while the Countess and 
 other ladies were clustered about Winifred at the 
 piano, and Dora and Caradoc were deep in some 
 affair of their own, I leaned over her chair, and
 
 PIQUE. 99 
 
 referring — I forget now in what terms — to the last 
 time we met, or rather parted, I strove to effect 
 that most difficult of all moves in the game of 
 love — to lead back the emotions, or the past train 
 of thought, to where they had been dropped, or 
 snapped by mischance, to the time when I had 
 bid her lingeringly adieu, after duly shawling and 
 handing her to the carriage, at the close of a late 
 rout in Park-lane, when the birds of an early June 
 morning were twittering in the trees of Hyde Park, 
 when the purple shadows were lying deep about 
 the Serpentine, when the Eing-road was a solitude, 
 the distant Kow a desert, and the yawning foot- 
 men in plush and powder, and the usually rubi- 
 cund coachmen, looking weary, pale, and impa- 
 tient, and when the time and place were suited 
 neither for delay nor dalliance. Yet, as I have 
 elsewhere said, an avowal of all she had inspired 
 within me was trembling on my lips as I led her 
 through the marble vestibule and down the steps, 
 pressing her hand and arm the while against my 
 side; but her mother's voice from the depths of 
 the carriage (into which old Lord Pottersleigh 
 had just handed her) arrested a speech to which 
 she might only have responded by silence, then at
 
 100 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 least; and I had driven, via Piccadilly, to the 
 Junior U.S., when Westminster clock was paling 
 out like a harvest moon beyond the Green Park, 
 cursing my diffidence, that delayed all I had to 
 say till the carriage was announced, thereby miss- 
 ing the chance that never might come again. 
 
 And then I had but the memory of a lovely 
 face, framed by a carriage window, regarding me 
 with a bright yet wistful smile, and of a soft thrill- 
 ing pressure returned by an ungloved hand, that 
 was waved to me from the same carriage as it 
 rolled away westward. 
 
 The night had fled, and there remained of it 
 only the memory of this, and of those glances so 
 full of tenderness, and those soft attentions or half 
 endearments which are so charming, and so im- 
 plicitly understood, as almost to render language, 
 perhaps, unnecessary. 
 
 *You remember the night we last met, and 
 parted, in London ?' I whispered. 
 
 * Morning, rather, I think it was,' said she, 
 fanning herself; *but night or morning, it was a 
 most delightful ball. I had not enjoyed myself 
 anywhere so much that season, and it was a gay 
 one.'
 
 PIQUE. 101 
 
 *Ah, you have not forgotten it, then,' said I, 
 encouraged. 
 
 * No ; it stands out in my memory as one 
 night among many happy ones. Day was almost 
 breaking when you led me to the carriage, I re- 
 member.' 
 
 ' Can you remember nothing more ?' I asked 
 earnestly. 
 
 * You shawled me most attentively — ' 
 ' And I was whispering — ' 
 
 * Something foolish, no doubt ; men are apt to 
 do so at such times,' she replied, while her white 
 eyelids quivered, and she looked up at me with 
 her calm bright smile. 
 
 ' Something foolish ?' thought I reproachfully; 
 * and then, as now, my soul seemed on my lips.' 
 
 ' Do you admire Mr. Guilfoyle's singing ?' she 
 asked after a little pause, to change the subject 
 probably. 
 
 * His voice is unquestionably good and highly 
 cultured,' said I, praising him truthfully enough 
 to conceal the intense annoyance her unexpected 
 question gave me ; 'but, by the way, Lady Estelle, 
 how does it come to pass that he has the honour 
 of knowing you — to be here, too ?'
 
 102 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 *How — why — what do you mean, Mr. Hard- 
 inge ?' she asked, and I could perceNe that after 
 colouring slightly she grew a trifle paler than he- 
 fore. * He is a visitor here, like you or myself. 
 We met him ahroad first ; he was most kind to us 
 when mamma lost all her passports at the Berlin 
 Eisenhahnhof, and he accompanied us to the Alte 
 Leipziger Strasse for others, and saw us safely to 
 our carriage. Then, hy the most singular chances, 
 we met him again at the new Kursaal of Ems, at 
 Gerolstein, when we were heginning the tour of 
 the Eifel, and at Baden-Baden. Lastly, we met 
 him at Llandudno, on the heach, quite casually, 
 when driving with Sir Madoc, to whom he said 
 that he knew you — that you were quite old friends, 
 in fact.' 
 
 * Knew me, by Jove ! that is rather odd. I 
 only lost some money to him; enough to make 
 me wary for the future.' 
 
 * Wary ?' she asked with dilated eyes. 
 'Yes.' 
 
 * An unpleasant expression, surely. Sir Ma- 
 doc, who is so hospitable, asked him here to see 
 the lions of Craigaderyn, and has put a gun at his 
 disnosal for the twelfth.'
 
 PIQUE. 103 
 
 ' How kind of unthinking Sir Madoc ! A most 
 satisfactory explanation,' said I cloudily, while 
 gnawing my moustache. Guilfoyle had too evi- 
 dently followed them. 
 
 'If any explanation were necessary,' was the 
 somewhat haughty response, as the mother-of-pearl 
 fan went faster than ever, and she looked me full 
 in the face with her clear, dark, and penetrating 
 eyes, to the sparkle of which the form of their lids, 
 and their thick fringe of black lash, served to im- 
 part a softness that was indeed required. ' Do 
 you know anything of him ?' she added. 
 
 ' No ; that is—' • 
 
 * Anything against him ?' 
 
 * No, Lady Estelle.' 
 
 * What then ?' she asked, a little petulantly. 
 
 ' Simply that I, pardon me, think a good deal.' 
 ' More than you would say ?' 
 
 * Perhaps.' 
 
 * This is not just. Mamma is somewhat par- 
 ticular, as you know ; and our family solicitor, Mr. 
 Sharpus, who is his legal friend also, speaks most 
 warmly of him. We met him in the best society 
 — abroad, of course ; but, Mr. Hardinge, your 
 words, your manner, more than all, your tone?
 
 104 UNDER THE EED DEAGON. 
 
 imply what I fear Mr. Guilfoyle would strongly 
 resent. But please go and be attentive to mamma 
 — ^you have scarcely been near her to-night,' she 
 added quickly, as a flush of anger crossed my face, 
 and she perceived it. 
 
 I bowed and obeyed, with a smile on my lips 
 and intense annoyance in my heart. I knew that 
 the soft eyes of Winifred Lloyd had been on us 
 from time to time ; but my little flirtation with 
 her was a thing of the past now, and I was reck- 
 less of its memory. Was she so ? Time will 
 prove. 
 
 I felt jealousy of Guilfoyle, pique at Lady Es- 
 telle, and rage at my own mismanagement. I had 
 sought to resume the tenor of our thoughts and 
 conversation on the occasion of our parting after 
 that joyous and brilliant night in Park-lane, when 
 my name on her engagement card had appeared 
 thrice for that of any one else; but if I had touched 
 her heart, even in the slightest degree, would she 
 have become, as it seemed, almost warm in defence 
 of this man, a waif picked up on the Continent ? 
 Yet, had she any deeper interest in him than mere 
 acquaintanceship warranted, would she have spoken 
 of him so openly, and so candidly, to me ?
 
 PIQUE. 105 
 
 Heavens ! we had actually been covertly fenc- 
 ing, and nearly quarrelling ! Yet, if so, wliy 
 should she be anxious for me to win the estima- 
 tion of ' mamma' ? 
 
 Lady Naseby had been beautiful in her time, 
 and the utter vacuity and calm of her mind had 
 enabled her to retain much of that beauty unim- 
 paired ; and I thought that her daughter, though 
 with more sparkle and brilliance, would be sure to 
 resemble her very much at the same years. She 
 was not displeased to meet with attention, but was 
 shrewd enough to see, and disdainful enough to 
 resent, its being bestowed, as she suspected it was 
 in my instance, on account of her daughter ; thus 
 I never had much success; for on the night of that 
 very rout in London my attentions in that quarter, 
 and their apparent good fortune, had excited her 
 parental indignation and aristocratic prejudices 
 against me. 
 
 After all the visitors had withdrawn (as horses 
 or carriages were announced in succession), save 
 one or two fox-hunters whom Guilfoyle had lured 
 into the billiard-room for purposes of his own, 
 when the ladies left us at night Lady Estelle did 
 not give me her hand. She passed me with a bow
 
 106 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 and smile only, and as she swept through the 
 gilded folding doors of the outer drawing-room, 
 with an arm round Dora's waist, her backward 
 glances fell on all — but me. 
 
 Why was this ? Was this coldness of manner 
 the result of Guilfoyle's influence, fear of her 
 mamma, her alleged engagement with old Lord 
 Pottersleigh, pique at myself caused by Dora's 
 folly, or what ? It was the old story of ' trifles 
 light as air.' I felt wrathful and heavy at heart, 
 and repented bitterly the invitation I had ac- 
 cepted, and the leave I had asked ; for Lady Estelle 
 seemed so totally unconcerned and indifferent to 
 me now, considering the empressement with which 
 we had parted in London. 
 
 The * family solicitor,' too ! He had been in- 
 troduced as a mutual friend in the course of affairs 
 — in the course of a friendship that had ripened 
 most wonderfully. Was this Hawkesby Guilfoyle 
 a fool, or a charlatan, or both ? His various ver- 
 sions of the diamond ring would seem to show that 
 he was the former. What fancy had the Countess 
 for him, and why was he tolerated by Sir Madoc ? 
 Familiar though I was with my old friend, I felt 
 that I could not, without a violation of good taste,
 
 PIQUE. 107 
 
 ask a question about a guest, especially one intro- 
 duced by the Cressingbams. 
 
 His voice was soft in tone ; bis manner, wben 
 be cbose, was suave ; bis laugb at all times, even 
 wben be mocked and sneered, wbicb was not un-^ 
 frequent, silvery and pleasing ; yet be was evi- 
 dently one wbo could ' smile and smile and be' — I 
 sball not exactly say wbat. 
 
 Wbile smoking a cigar, I pondered over tbese 
 and otber perplexing tbings in my room before re- 
 tiring for tbe nigbt, bearing ever and anon tbe 
 click of tbe billiard-balls at tbe end of tbe corridor. 
 Had I not tbe same cbance and rigbt of competi- 
 tion as tbis Guilfoyle, tbougb unknown to tbe 
 * family solicitor' ? How far bad be succeeded in 
 supplanting me, and perbaps otbers ? for tbat 
 there were otbers I knew. How far had he gone 
 in bis suit — how prospered ? How was I to con- 
 strue the glances I had seen exchanged, the half 
 speech so bluntly made, and so adroitly drowned 
 at the piano ? Who was he ? what was he ? The 
 attache of the mock embassy at a petty German 
 Court ! Surely my position in society was as 
 good, if not better defined than bis ; wbile youth, 
 appearance, health, and strength gave me every
 
 108 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 advantage over an ' old fogie' like Viscount Potters- 
 leigh. 
 
 As if farther to inflame my pique, and confirm 
 the chagrin and irritation that grew within me on 
 reflection, Phil Caradoc, smoothing his moustache, 
 came into my room, which adjoined his, to have, 
 as he said, ' a quiet weed before turning in.' 
 
 He looked rufiled ; for he had lost money at 
 billiards — that was evident — and to the object of 
 my jealousy, too. 
 
 * That fellow Guilfoyle is a thorough Bohemian, 
 if ever there was one !' said he, as he viciously bit 
 off the end of his cigar prior to lighting it, ' with 
 his inimitable tact, his steady stroke at billiards, 
 his scientific whist, his coolness and perfect breed- 
 ing : yet he is, I am certain, unless greatly mis- 
 taken, a regular free-lance, without the bravery or 
 brilliance that appertained to the name of old — a 
 lawless ritter of the gaming-table, and one that 
 can't even act his part well or consistently in being 
 so. He has been spinning another story about 
 that ring, with which I suppose, like Claude Mel- 
 notte's, we shall hear in time his grandfather, the 
 Doge of Venice, married the Adriatic ! I am cer- 
 tain,' continued Caradoc, who was unusually ruf-
 
 PIQUE. 109 
 
 fled, ' that though a vainglorious and boasting fel- 
 low, he is half knave, half fool, and wholly adven- 
 turer !' 
 
 * This is strong language, Phil. Good heavens ! 
 do you really think so ?' I asked, astonished to 
 find him so boldly putting my own thoughts into 
 words. 
 
 * I am all but convinced of it,' said he emphati- 
 cally. 
 
 * But how in such society ?' 
 
 * Ah, that is the rub, and the affair of Sir Ma- 
 doc, and of Lady Naseby, and of LadyEstelle, too, 
 for she seems to take rather more than an interest 
 in him — they have some secret understanding. 
 By Jove ! I can't make it out at all !' 
 
 Caradoc's strong convictions and unusual blunt- 
 ness added fuel to my pique and chagrin, and I 
 resolved that, come what might, I would end the 
 matter ere long ; and I thought the while of the 
 song of Montrose, 
 
 ' He either fears his fate too much, 
 Or Ms deserts are smaU, 
 Who dares not put it to the touch, 
 To gain or lose it all !'
 
 CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADEEYN. 
 
 The following day was Sunday ; and ere it closed, 
 there occurred a little contretemps which nearly 
 lost me all chance of putting to the issue whether 
 I was ' to gain or lose it alF with Estelle Cress- 
 ingham. 
 
 I felt that it was quite possible, if I chose, to 
 have my revenge through the sweet medium of 
 Winifred Lloyd; yet, though Lady Estelle's some- 
 what pointed defence of Guilfoyle rankled in my 
 memory, and Caradoc's hints had added fuel to 
 the flame, I shrunk from such a double game, and 
 hoped that the chances afforded by propinquity in 
 general, and the coming fete in particular, would 
 soon enable me to come to a decision. My mind 
 was full of vague irritation against her ; yet when 
 I rose in the morning, my one and predominant 
 thought was that I should see her again.
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN. Ill 
 
 Carriages and horses had been ordered from 
 the stable for our conveyance to Craigaderyn 
 church, a three miles' drive through lovely scenery, 
 and I resolved to accompany the sisters in the 
 barouche, leaving whom fate directed to take 
 charge of Lady Estelle ; yet great was my con- 
 tentment when she fell to the care of Sir Madoc in 
 the family carriage. Lady Naseby did not appear, 
 her French soubrette. Mademoiselle Babette Pom- 
 pon, announcing that she was indisposed. 
 
 Guilfoyle and Caradoc rode somewhat un- 
 willingly together, and I sat opposite Winny, who 
 insisted on driving, and was duly furnished witli 
 the smartest of parasol whips — pink, with a white 
 fringe. 
 
 Quitting the park, we skirted a broad trout 
 stream, the steep banks of which were clad with 
 light-green foilage, and named Nant-y-helan, or 
 the * Martens' dingle.' At the bottom the river 
 foamed along over broken and abutting rocks, or 
 flowed in dark and noiseless pools, where the 
 brown trout lurked in the shade, and where the 
 over-arching trees and grassy knolls were reflected 
 downward in the depth. 
 
 Hawkesby Guilfoyle sat his horse — one of Sir
 
 112 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Madoc's hunters, fully sixteen hands higli — so 
 well, and looked so handsome and gentlemanly, 
 his riding costume was so complete, even to his 
 silver spurs, well-fitting buff gloves, and riding 
 switch, that I felt regret in the conviction that 
 some cloud hung over the fellow's antecedents, 
 and present life too perhaps ; hut with all that I 
 could not forgive him his rivalry, and, as I deemed 
 its presumption, with the strong belief that he was, 
 in his secret heart, my enemy. 
 
 He and Caradoc rode behind the open carri- 
 age ; we led the way in the barouche ; and a very 
 merry and laughing party we were, as we swept by 
 the base of the green hills of Mynedd Hiraethrog, 
 and over the ancient bridge that spans Llyn Aled, 
 to the church of Craigaderyn, where the entrance 
 of Sir Madoc's family and their visitors caused pe- 
 riodically somewhat of a sensation among the more 
 humble parishioners who were there, and were 
 wont to regard with a species of respectful awe the 
 great square pew, which was lined with purple 
 velvet, and had a carved-oak table in the centre, 
 and over the principal seat the lion's head erased, 
 and the shield of Lloyd per bend sinister, ermine 
 and pean, a lion rampant, armed with a sword.
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN. 113 
 
 With a roof of carved oak, brought from some 
 other place (the invariable account of all such roofs 
 in Wales), and built by Jorwerth ap Davydd Lloyd, 
 in 1320, the church was a picturesque old place, 
 where many generations of the Craigaderyn family 
 had worshipped long before and since the Keforma- 
 tion, and whose bones, lapped in lead, and even in 
 coffins of stone, lay in the burial vaults below. The 
 oaken pews were high and deep, and were covered 
 with dates, coats- of-arms, and quaint monograms. 
 In some places the white slabs indicated where lay 
 the remains of those who died but yesterday. Else- 
 where, with helmet, spurs, and gloves of steel hung 
 above their stony effigies, and covered by isobwebs 
 and dust, lay the men of ages past and gone, their 
 brasses and pedestal tombs bearing, in some 
 instances, how stoutly and valiantly they had 
 fought against the Spaniard, the Frenchman, and 
 the Scot. 
 
 One, Sir Madoc ap Meredyth Lloyd, whose 
 sword hung immediately over my head, had wield- 
 ed it, as his brass recorded, ^ contra Scotos apud 
 Flodden et Musselboro;' and now the spiders were 
 busy spinning their cobwebs over the rusted hel- 
 met through which this old Welsh knight had seen 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 UNDEK THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 King James's host defile by the silver Till, and 
 that of his fated granddaughter by the banks of 
 the beautiful Esk. 
 
 In other places I saw the more humble, but 
 curious Welsh mode of commemorating the dead, . 
 by hanging up a coffin-plate, inscribed with their 
 names, in the pews where they were wont to sit. 
 
 Coats-of-arms met the eye on all sides — solid 
 evidences of birth and family, which more than 
 once evoked a covert sneer from Guilfoyle, who to 
 his other bad qualities added the pride and the 
 envy of such things, that seem inseparable from 
 the character of the parvenu. 
 
 There were two services in Craigaderyn church 
 each Sunday, one in Welsh, the other in English. 
 Sir Madoc usually attended the former ; but in 
 courtesy to Lady Estelle, he had come to the latter 
 to-day. 
 
 Over all the details of the village fane rny eyes 
 wandered from time to time, always to rest on the 
 face of Estelle Cressingham or of Winifred Lloyd, 
 who was beside me, and who on this day, as I had 
 accompanied her, seemed to feel that she had me 
 all to herself. We read off the same book, as we 
 had done years before in the same pew and place ;
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN. 115 
 
 ever and anon our gloved fingers touched ; I felt 
 her silk dress rustling against me; her long lashes 
 and snowy lids, with the soft pale beauty of her 
 downcast face, and her sweetly curved mouth, 
 were all most pleasing and attractive ; but the 
 sense of Estelle's presence rendered me invulner- 
 able to all but her ; and my eyes could not but 
 roam to where she stood or knelt by the side of 
 burly Sir Madoc, her fine face downcast too in the 
 soft light that stole between the deep mullions and 
 twisted tracery of an ancient stained-glass window, 
 her noble and equally pure profile half seen and 
 half hidden by a short veil of black lace; her 
 rounded chin and lips rich in colour, and beauti- 
 ful in character as those of one of Greuze's love- 
 liest masterpieces. There too were the rich bright- 
 ness of her hair, and the proud grace that per- 
 vaded all her actions, and even her stillness. 
 
 Thus, even when I did not look towards her, 
 but in Winifred's face, or on the book we mutually 
 held, and mechanically affected to read, a percep- 
 tion, a dreamy sense of Estelle's presence was 
 about me, and I could not help reverting to our 
 past season in London, and all that has been de- 
 scribed by a writer as those * first sweet hours of
 
 116 UNDEE THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 communion, when strangers glide into friends ; 
 that hour which, either in friendship or in love, is 
 as the bloom to the fruit, as the daybreak to the 
 day, indefinable, magical, and fleeting ;' the hours 
 which saw me presented as a friend, and left me a 
 lover. 
 
 The day was intensely hot, and inside the old 
 church, though some of the arched recesses and 
 ancient tombs looked cool enough, there was a 
 blaze of sunshine, that fell in hazy flakes or 
 streams of coloured light athwart the bowed heads 
 of the congregation. With heat and languor, 
 there was also the buzz of insect life ; and amid 
 the monotonous tones of the preacher, I loved to 
 fancy him reading the marriage service for us — 
 that is, for Estelle and myself — fancied it as an 
 enthusiastic school-girl might have done ; and yet 
 how was it that, amid these conceits, the face and 
 form of Winifred Lloyd, with her pretty hand in 
 the tight straw-coloured kid glove, that touched 
 mine, filled up the eye of the mind ? 
 
 Was I dreaming, or only about to sleep, like 
 so many of the congregation — those toilers afield, 
 those hardy hewers of wood and drawers of water, 
 whose strong sinews, when unbraced, induced them
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADEBYN. 117 
 
 to slumber now — the men especially, as the study 
 of each other's toilets served to keep the female 
 portion fully awake. 
 
 When the clergyman prayed for the success of 
 our arms in the strife that was to come, Winifred's 
 dark eyes looked into mine for a moment, quick as 
 light, and I saw her bosom swell ; and when he 
 prayed, 'Give peace in our time, Lord,' her 
 voice became earnest and tremulous in responding ; 
 and I could have sworn that I saw a tear oozing, 
 but arrested, on the thick black eyelash of this 
 impulsive W^elsh girl, whom this part of the ser- 
 vice, by its association and the time, seemed to 
 move; but LadyEstelle was wholly intent on hav- 
 ing one of her gloves buttoned by Guilfoyle, whose 
 attendance she doubtless preferred to that of 
 old Sir Madoc. 
 
 'Look!' said Winifred Lloyd, in an excited 
 whisper, as she lightly touched my hand. 
 
 I followed the direction of her eye, and saw, 
 seated at the end of the central aisle, modestly 
 and humbly, among the free places reserved for 
 the poor, a young woman, whose appearance was 
 singularly interesting. Poorly, or rather plainly, 
 attired in faded black, her face was remarkably
 
 118 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 handsome ; and her whole air was perfectly lady- 
 like. She was as pale as death, with a wild wan 
 look in all her features ; disease, or sorrow, or 
 penury — perhaps all these together — had marked 
 her as their own ; her eyes, of clear, bright, and 
 most expressive gray, were haggard and hollow, 
 with dark circles under them. Black-kid gloves 
 showed her pretensions to neatness and gentility ; 
 but as they were frayed and worn, she strove to 
 conceal her hands nervously under her gathered 
 shawl. 
 
 * She is looking at you, Winifred,' said Dora. 
 
 * No— at Estelle.' 
 
 'At us all, I think,' resumed Dora, in the same 
 whispered tone ; ' and she has done so for some 
 time past. Heavens! she seems quite like a spectre.' 
 
 * Poor creature !' said Winifred ; * we must in- 
 quire about her.' 
 
 ' Do you know her, Mr. Hardinge ?' asked 
 Dora. 
 
 * Nay, not I ; it is Mr. Guilfoyle she is look- 
 ing at,' said I. 
 
 Guilfoyle, having achieved the somewhat pro- 
 tracted operation of buttoning Lady Estelle's 
 lavender-kid glove, now stuck his glass in his
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADEKYN. 119 
 
 eye, and turned leisurely and languidly in the 
 direction that attracted us all, just as the service 
 was closing; but the pale woman quickly drew 
 down her veil, and quitted the church abruptly, 
 ere he could see her, as I thought ; and this cir- 
 cumstance, though I took no heed of it then, I re- 
 membered in the time to come. 
 
 Winifred frankly took my arm as we left the 
 church. 
 
 * You promised to come with me after luncheon 
 and see the goat I have for the regiment,' said she. 
 
 * Did I ? — ah, yes — shall be most happy, I'm 
 sure,' said I, shamefully oblivious of the promise 
 in question, as we proceeded towards the carriages, 
 the people making way for us on all sides, the 
 women curtseying and the men uncovering to Sir 
 Madoc, who was a universal favourite, especially 
 with the maternal portion of the parish, as he was 
 very fond of children and flattered himself not a 
 little on his power of getting on with them, being 
 wont to stop mothers on the road or in the village 
 street, and make knowing remarks on the beauty, 
 the complexions, or the curly heads of their off- 
 spring, while he was never without a handful of 
 copper or loose silver for general distribution ; and
 
 120 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 now it excited some surprise and even secret dis- 
 dain in Guilfoyle — a little petulance in Lady Es- 
 telle too — to find liim shaking hands and speaking 
 in guttural Welsh with some of the men cottagers, 
 or peasant-women with jackets and tall odd hats. 
 But one anecdote will suffice to show the character 
 of Sir Madoc. 
 
 In the very summer of my visit, it had occurred 
 that he had to serve on a jury when a property of 
 some three thousand pounds or so was at issue ; 
 and when the jury retired, he found that they were 
 determined to decide in such a manner as he did 
 not deem equitable, and which in the end would 
 inevitably ruin an honest farmer named Evan 
 Rhuddlan, father of a sergeant in my company of 
 Welsh Fusileers, who dwelt at a place called Craig 
 Eryri, or 'the Rock of Eagles.' Finding that they 
 were resolute, he submitted, or affected to acquiesce 
 in their decision ; but on announcing it to the 
 court, he handed the losing party a cheque on 
 Coutts and Co. for the whole sum in litigation, 
 and became more than ever the idol of the country 
 people. 
 
 * Romantic old place — casques, cobwebs, and 
 all that sort of thing,' said Guilfoyle, as he handed
 
 SUNDAY AT CEAIGADERYN. 121 
 
 Lady Estelle into tlie carriage, and took the bridle 
 of his horse from Bob Spurrit, the groom; *I 
 thought Burke had written the epitaph of chivalry 
 and all belonging to it.' 
 
 ' Yes, but romance still exists, Mr. Guilfoyle,' 
 said Winifred, whose face was bright with smiles. 
 
 * And love too, eh, Estelle ?' added Dora, 
 laughing. 
 
 'Even in the region of Mayfair, you think?' 
 said she. 
 
 * Yes ; and wherever there is beauty, that is 
 rarest,' said I. 
 
 But she only replied by one of her calm* 
 smiles ; for she had a reticence of manner which 
 there seemed to be no means of moving. 
 
 * Talking of love and romance, I should like 
 to know more of that pale woman we saw in 
 church to-day,' said Dora. 
 
 ' Why so ?' asked Guilfoyle curtly. 
 
 'Because I saw she must have some terrible 
 story to tell. — What was the text, Mr. Caradoc ?' 
 she asked, as we departed homewards. 
 
 ' Haven't the ghost of an idea,' replied Phil. 
 
 ' fie ! — or the subject ?' 
 
 * No,' said Caradoc, reddening a little ; for he
 
 122 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 had been intent during tlie whole service on Wini- 
 fred Lloyd. 
 
 ' It was all about Jacob's ladder, of which we 
 have had a most inaccurate notion hitherto,' said 
 Dora, as we drove down the long lime avenue, to 
 find that, as the day was so sultry, luncheon had 
 been laid for us by Owen Gwyllim under the 
 grand old trees in the lawn, about thirty yards 
 from the entrance-hall, under the very oak where 
 the spectre of Sir Jorwerth Du was alleged to 
 vanish, the oak of Owen Glendower; and where 
 that doughty Cymbrian had perhaps sought to 
 summon spirits from the vasty deep, we found 
 spirits of another kind — brandy and seltzer, clic- 
 quot and sparkling moselle cooling in silver ice- 
 pails on the greensward ; and there too, awaiting 
 us, sat Lady Naseby, smiling and fanning herself 
 under the umbrageous shadows of the chase. 
 
 Over her stately head was pinned a fall of rich 
 Maltese lace, that hung in lappets on each side 
 — a kind of demi-toilette that well became her 
 lingering beauty and matronly appearance. 
 
 In a mother-of-pearl basket by her side, and 
 placed on the luncheon-table, lay Tiny, her shock, 
 a diminutive cur, white as snow, spotless as Made-
 
 SUNDAY AT CRAIGADERYN. 123 
 
 moiselle Babette with perfumed soap could make 
 it, its long woolly hair dangling over its pink eyes, 
 giving it, as Sir Madoc said, 'a most pitiable 
 appearance ;' for with all his love of dogs, he 
 disliked such pampered, waddling, and wheezing 
 pets as this, and thought manhood never looked 
 so utterly contemptible as when a tall *Jeames' 
 in livery, with whiskers and calves, cane and 
 nosegay, had the custody of such a quadruped, 
 while his lady shopped in Regent-street or Pic- 
 cadilly.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE INITIALS. 
 
 While we were at luncheon, and the swollen 
 champagne-corks were flying upward into the 
 green foliage overhead, and while Owen Gwyllim 
 was supplying us with iced claret-cup from a 
 great silver tankard presented to Sir Madoc's 
 uncle hy his regiment, the Ancient Britons, after 
 the Irish rebellion of 1798, and with which he, 
 Sir Madoc, had been wont to dispense swig or 
 * brown Betty' on St. David's-day, when at Cam- 
 bridge, — Dora, with her hair flying loose, her 
 eyes sparkling, and her face radiant with excite- 
 ment and merriment, came tripping down the 
 perron from the entrance-hall, and across the 
 lawn towards us, with the contents of the house- 
 hold post-bag. She seemed to have letters for 
 every one, save me — letters which she dropped
 
 THE INITIALS. 125 
 
 and picked up as she came along. There was 
 quite a pile of notes for herself, on the subject of 
 her approaching fete ; and how busy her pretty 
 little hands immediately became ! 
 
 After the usual muttered apologies, all began 
 to read. 
 
 There was a letter for Guilfoyle, on reading 
 which he grew very white, exhibited great tre- 
 pidation, and thrust it into his coat-pocket. 
 
 ' What is up, sir ?' asked Sir Madoc, pausing 
 with a slice of cold fowl on his fork ; ' nothing 
 unpleasant, I hope ?' 
 
 ' Sold on a bay mare — that is all,' he replied, 
 with an affected laugh, as if to dismiss the subject. 
 
 * How ?' asked Sir Madoc, whom a * horsey' 
 topic immediately interested. 
 
 ' Like many other handicap " pots" this sea- 
 son, my nag came in worse than second.' 
 ' A case of jockeying ?' 
 
 * Pure and simple.' 
 ' When ?' 
 
 * 0, ah — York races.' 
 
 *Why, man alive, they don't come off for 
 a month yet !' responded Sir Madoc somewhat 
 dryly; but perceiving that his guest was awk-
 
 126 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 wardly placed, he changed the subject by saying, 
 * But your letter. Lady Estelle, gives you pleasure, 
 I am glad to see.' 
 
 * It is from Lord Pottersleigh. He arrives 
 here to-morrow, and hopes his rooms have a 
 southern exposure.' 
 
 * The fete-day — of course. His comforts shall 
 be fully attended to.' 
 
 ' Why did he write to hei' about this, and not 
 to Sir Madoc or Miss Lloyd ?' thought I. 
 
 * He is such an old friend,' remarked Lady 
 Estelle, as if she divined my mental query. 
 
 *Yes, rather too old for my taste,' said the 
 somewhat mischievous Dora. ' He wears goloshes 
 in damp weather, his hat down on the nape of his 
 neck ; is in an agony of mind about exposures , 
 draughts, and currents of air; makes his horse 
 shy every time he attempts to mount, and they 
 go round in circles, eyeing each other suspiciously 
 till a groom comes ; and when he does achieve his 
 saddle, he drops his whip or his gloves, or twists 
 his stirrup-leather. And yet it is this old fogie 
 whose drag at Epsom or the Derby makes the 
 greatest show, has the finest display of lovely 
 faces, fans, bonnets, and parasols — a moving
 
 THE INITIALS. 127 
 
 Swan and Edgar, with a luncheon spread that 
 Fortnum and Mason might envy, and champagne 
 flowing as if from a fountain ; hut withal, he is so 
 tiresome !' 
 
 * Dora, you quite forget yourself,' said Wini- 
 fred, while I could have kissed her for this sketch 
 of my rival, at which Sir Madoc, and even Estelle 
 Cressingham, laughed ; hut Lady Nasehy said, 
 with some asperity of tone, 
 
 * Lord Pottersleigh is one of our richest peers. 
 Miss Dora, and his creation dates from Henry 
 VIIL' 
 
 * And he is to dance with me,' said the heed- 
 less girl, still laughing. ' 0, won't I astonish his 
 nerves if we waltz !' 
 
 * Your cousin Nasehy is to visit us, Estelle, at 
 Walcot Park, so soon as we return, if he can,' 
 said the Countess, turning from Dora with a very 
 dubious expression of eye, and closing a letter she 
 had received ; ^ his love-affair with that odious 
 Irish girl is quite off, thank heaven !' 
 
 ' How ? — love of change, or change of love ?' 
 
 * Neither.' 
 
 * What, then, mamma ?' 
 
 *The Irish girl actually had a mind of her
 
 128 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 own, and preferred some one else even to a peer, 
 an English peer !' 
 
 ' I drain this clicquot to the young lady's hap- 
 piness,' said Sir Madoc. 
 
 ' But all this is nothing to me, mamma,' said 
 Lady Estelle coldly. 
 
 But I could see at a glance, that if it was 
 unimportant to her, it was not so to her mother, 
 his aunt, who would rather have had the young 
 earl for her son-in-law than the old viscount, even 
 though the patent of the latter had been expede by 
 the royal Bluebeard, most probably for services 
 that pertained more to knavery than knighthood. 
 
 * Well, Caradoc,' said I, ' is your despatch 
 from the regiment ?' 
 
 * Yes ; from Price of ours. Nothing but 
 rumours of drafts going eastward to make up the 
 death-losses at Varna, and he fears our leave may 
 be cancelled. *' Deuced awkward if we go soon," 
 he adds, '' as I have a most successful affaire clu 
 coeur on hand just now." ' 
 
 * When is he ever without one ?' said I ; and 
 we both laughed. 
 
 Winifred's eyes were on me, and Caradoc's 
 were on her, while I w^as sedulously attending to
 
 THE INITIALS. 129 
 
 Lady Estelle. As for Guilfoyle, since the advent 
 of his letter he had become quite silent. We 
 were at the old game of cross-purposes ; for it 
 seems to be in love, as with everything else in life, 
 that the obstacles in the way, and the difficulty of 
 attainment, always enhance the value of the ob- 
 ject to be won. Yet in the instance of Lady 
 Estelle I was not so foolish as poor Price of ours, 
 the butt of the mess, who always fell in love with 
 the wrong person — to whom the pale widow, in- 
 consolable in her first crape ; the blooming bride 
 in her clouds of tulle and white lace ; the girl just 
 engaged, and who consequently saw but one man 
 in the world, and that man her own fiance ; or any 
 pretty girl whom he met just when the route came 
 and the mess-plate was packed prior to marching, 
 — became invested with remarkable charms, and a 
 sudden interest that made his susceptible heart 
 feel sad and tender. 
 
 The ladies' letters opened up quite a budget 
 of town news and gossip. To Sir Madoc, a 
 genuine country gentleman, full only of field- 
 sports, the prospects of the turnip crop and the 
 grouse season, the county-pack, and so forth, a 
 conversation that now rose, chiefly on the coming 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 fete, on dresses, music, routs and Kotten-row, 
 kettledrums and drawing-rooms, and the town in 
 general, proved somewhat of a bore. He fidgeted, 
 and ultimately left for the stables, where he and 
 Bob Spurrit had to hold a grave consultation on 
 certain equine ailmuents. The ladies also rose to 
 leave us ; but Caradoc, Guilfoyle, and I lingered 
 under the cool shadow of the oaks, and lit our 
 cigars. With his silver case for holding the last- 
 named luxuries, Guilfoyle unconsciously pulled 
 forth a letter, which fell on the grass at my feet. 
 Picking it up, I restored it to him ; but brief 
 though the action, I could not help perceiving it 
 to be the letter he had just received, that it was 
 addressed in a woman's hand, and had on the en- 
 velope, in coloured letters, the name ^ Georgette.' 
 
 * Thanks,' said he, with sudden irritation of 
 manner, as he thrust it into a breast-pocket this 
 time ; ' a narrow squeak that !' he added slangily, 
 with a half-muttered malediction. 
 
 I felt certain that there was a mystery in all 
 this ; that he feared something unpleasant might 
 have been revealed, had that identical letter fallen 
 into other hands, or under more prying eyes ; and 
 I remembered those trivial circumstances at a
 
 THE INITIALS. 131 
 
 future, and to me rather harassing, time. I 
 must own that this man was to me a puzzle. 
 With all his disposition to boast, he never spoke 
 of relations or of family ; yet he seemed in per- 
 fectly easy circumstances ; his own valet, groom, 
 and horses were at Craigaderyn ; he could bear 
 himself well and with perfect ease in the best 
 society; and it was evident that, wherever they 
 came from, he was at present a man of pretty 
 ample means. He possessed, moreover, a keen 
 perception for appreciating individuals and events 
 at their actual value ; his manners were, tvhen he 
 chose, polished, his coolness imperturbable, and 
 his insouciance sometimes amusing. For the pre- 
 sent, it had left him. 
 
 * Beautiful brilliant that of yours, Mr. Guil- 
 foyle,' said Caradoc, to fish for another legend of 
 the ring ; but in vain, for Guilfoyle was no longer 
 quite himself, though he had policy enough to 
 feed the snarling cur Tiny in her basket, with 
 choice morsels of cold fowl, as Lady Naseby's 
 soubrette. Mademoiselle Babette, was waiting to 
 carry it away. 
 
 Since the remarks or co7itretemps concerning 
 the York races, he had been as mute as a fish ;
 
 132 UNDER THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 and now, when lie did begin to speak in the ab- 
 sence of Sir Madoc, I coukl perceive that gratitude 
 for kindness did not form an ingredient in the 
 strange compound of which his character was 
 made up. Perhaps secret irritation at Sir Madoc's 
 queries about the letter which so evidently dis- 
 turbed his usual equanimity might have been the 
 real spirit that moved him now to sneer at the 
 old baronet's Welsh foibles, and particularly his 
 weakness on the subject of pedigrees. 
 
 ' You are to stay here for the 1st, I believe ?' 
 said I. 
 
 ' Yes ; but, the dooce ! for what ? Such a la- 
 bour to march through miles of beans and growing 
 crop, to knock over a few partridges and rabbits' 
 (partwidges and wabbits, he called them), 'which 
 
 « 
 
 you can pay another to do much better for you.' 
 
 * Sturdy Sir Madoc would hear this with in- 
 credulous astonishment,' said I. 
 
 *Very probably. Kind fellow old Taff}", 
 though,' said he, while smoking leisurely, and 
 lounging back in an easy garden-chair ; ' has a 
 long pedigree, of course, as we may always re- 
 member by the coats-of-arms stuck up all over the 
 house. " County people" in the days of Howel
 
 THE INITIALS. 133 
 
 Dha ; " county ditto" in the days of Queen 
 Victoria, and likely to remain so till the next 
 flood forms a second great epoch in the family 
 history. Very funny, is it not ? He reminds me 
 of what we read of Mathew Bramhle in Humphry 
 Clinker — a gentleman of great worth and property, 
 descended in a straight line by the female side 
 from Llewellyn, Prince of Wales.' 
 
 I was full of indignation on hearing my old 
 friend spoken of thus, if not under his own roof, 
 under his ancient ancestral oaks ; but Philip Ca- 
 radoc, more Celtic and fiery by nature, antici- 
 pated me by saying sharply, 
 
 * Bad taste this, surely, in you, Mr. Guilfoyle* 
 to sneer thus at our hospitable entertainer; and 
 believe me, sir, that no one treats lightly the 
 pedigree of another who — who — ' 
 
 * Ah, well — who what ?' 
 
 * Possesses one himself,' added Phil, looking 
 him steadily in the face. 
 
 * Bah ! I suppose every one has had a grand- 
 father.' 
 
 * Even you, Mr. Guilfoyle ?' continued Caradoc, 
 whose cheek began to flush ; but the other replied 
 calmly, and not without point, 
 
 * There is a writer who says, that to pride
 
 134 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 oneself on the nobility of one's ancestors is like 
 looking among the roots for the fruit that should 
 be found on the branches.' 
 
 Finding that the conversation was taking a 
 decidedly unpleasant turn, and that, though his 
 tone was quiet and his manner suave, a glassy 
 glare shone in the greenish-gray eyes of Guilfoyle, 
 I said, with an assumed laugh, 
 
 * We must not forget the inborn ideas and the 
 national sentiments of the Welsh — call them pro- 
 vincialisms if you will. But remember that there 
 are eight hundred thousand people inspired by a 
 nationality so strong, that they will speak only the 
 language of the Cymri ; and it is among those 
 chiefly that our regiment has ever been recruited. 
 But if the foibles — I cannot deem them folly — of 
 Sir Madoc are distasteful to you, the charms of 
 the scenery around us and those of our lady friends 
 cannot but be pleasing.' 
 
 * Granted,' said he coldly; 'all are beautiful, 
 even to Miss Dora, who looks so innocent.' 
 
 * Who is so innocent by nature, Mr. Guilfoyle,' 
 said I, in a tone of undisguised sternness. 
 
 * Then it is a pity she permits herself to say — 
 sharp things.' 
 
 *With so much unintentional point, perhaps?'
 
 THE INITIALS. 135 
 
 ' Sir !' 
 
 * Truth, then — which you will,' said I, as we 
 simultaneously rose to leave the luncheon-tahle. 
 
 And now, oddly enough, followed by Winifred, 
 Dora herself came again tripping down the broad 
 steps of the perron towards us, exclaiming, 
 
 *Is not papa with you ? — the tiresome old dear, 
 he will be among the harriers or the stables of 
 course !' 
 
 'What is the matter?' I asked. 
 
 ' Only think, Mr. Hardinge, that poor woman 
 we saw at church this morning, looking so pretty, 
 so pale, and interesting, was found among the 
 tombstones by Farmer Khuddlan, quite in a help* 
 less faint, after we drove away — so the housekeeper 
 tells me; so we must find her out and succour 
 her if possible.' 
 
 * But who is she ?' asked Caradoc. 
 
 * No one knows ; she refused obstinately to 
 give her name or tell her story ere she went away ; 
 but at her neck hangs a gold locket, with a crest, 
 the date, 1st of September, on one side, and H. G. 
 beautifully enamelled on the other. How odd — 
 your initials, Mr. Guilfoyle !' 
 
 * You are perhaps not aware that my name is 
 Henry Hawkesby Guilfoyle,' said he with ill-
 
 136 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 concealed anger, while he played nervously with 
 his diamond ring. 
 
 * How intensely odd !' resumed his beautiful 
 but unwitting tormentor; ^H. H. G. were the 
 three letters on the locket !' 
 
 * Did no one open it ?' he asked. 
 *No; it was firmly closed.' 
 
 * By a secret spring, no doubt.' 
 
 Guilfoyle looked ghastly for a moment, or it 
 might have been the effect of the sunlight flashing 
 on his face through the waving foliage of the trees 
 overhead ; but he said laughingly, 
 
 'A droll coincidence, which, under some cir- 
 cumstances, might be very romantic, but fortu- 
 nately in the present has no point whatever. If 
 my initials hung at your neck instead of hers, 
 how happy I should be, Miss Dora !' 
 
 And turning the matter thus, by a somewhat 
 clumsy compliment or bit of flattery, he ended an 
 unpleasant conversation by entering the house 
 with her and Caradoc. 
 
 Winifred remained irresolutely behind them. 
 
 * We were to visit my future comrade,' said I. 
 ' Come, then,' said she, with a beautiful smile, 
 
 and a soft blush of innocent pleasure.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A PERILOUS RAMBLE. 
 
 Winifred Lloyd was, as Caradoc had said, a 
 very complete and perfect creature. The very way 
 her gloves fitted, the handsome form of her feet, 
 the softness of her dark eyes, the tender curve of 
 her lips, and, more than all, her winning manner, 
 — the inspiration of an innocent and guileless 
 heart — made her a most desirable companion at 
 all times ; but with me, at present, poor Winifred 
 was only the means to an end ; and perhaps she 
 secretly felt this, as she lingered pensively for a 
 moment by the marble fountain that stood before 
 Craigaderyn Court, and played with her white 
 fingers in the water, causing the gold and silver 
 fish to dart madly to and fro. 
 
 Above its basin a group of green bronze tritons 
 were spouting, great Nile lilies floated on its
 
 138 UNDER THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 surface, and over all was the crest of the Lloyds, 
 also in bronze, a lion's head, gorged, with a 
 wreath of oak. 
 
 The notes of a harp came softly towards us 
 through the trees as we walked onward, for old 
 Owen Gwyllim the butler was playing in that 
 most unromantic place his pantry, and the air was 
 the inevitable ' Jenny Jones.' 
 
 From the lawn I led her by walks and ways 
 forgotten since my boyhood, and since I had gone 
 the same route with her birdnesting and nutting 
 in those glorious Welsh woods, by hedgerows that 
 were matted and interwoven with thorny brambles 
 and bright wild-flowers, past laden orchards and 
 picturesque farms, nooks that were leafy and 
 green, and little tarns of gleaming water, that 
 reflected the smiling summer sky ; past meadows, 
 where the sleek brown, or black, or brindled cattle 
 were chewing the cud and ruminating knee-deep 
 among the fragrant pasture ; and dreamily I 
 walked by her side, touching her hand from time 
 to time, or taking it fairly in mine as of old, and 
 occasionally enforcing what I said by a pressure 
 of her soft arm within mine, while I talked to her, 
 saying heaven knows what, but most ungratefully
 
 A PERILOUS EAMBLE. ' 139 
 
 wishing all the time that she were Estelle Cress- 
 ingham. 
 
 All was soft and peaceful around us. The 
 woods of Craigaderyn, glowing in the heat of the 
 August afternoon, were hushed and still, all save 
 the hum of insects, or if they stirred it was when 
 the soft west wind seemed to pass through them 
 with a languid sigh ; and so some of the influences 
 of a past time and a boyish love came over me; 
 a time long before I had met the dazzling Estelle 
 — a time when to me there had seemed to be but 
 one girl in the world, and she was Winifred 
 Lloyd — ere I joined the — th in the West Indies, 
 or the Welsh Fusileers, and knew what the* 
 world is. • 
 
 I dreaded being betrayed into some tenderness 
 as a treason to Lady Estelle ; and fortunately we 
 were not without some interruptions in our walk 
 of a mile or so to visit her horned pet, whom she 
 had sent forth for a last run on his native hills. 
 
 We visited Yr Ogof (or the cave) where one of 
 her cavalier ancestors had hidden after the battle 
 of Llandegai, in the Vale of the Ogwen, during 
 the wars of Cromwell, and now, by local super- 
 stition, deemed an abode of the knockers, those
 
 140 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 supernatural guardians of the mines, to whom are 
 known all the metallic riches of the mountains; 
 hideous pigmy gnomes, who, though they can 
 never he seen, are frequently heard heating, blast- 
 ing, and boring with their little hammers, and 
 singing in a language known to themselves only. 
 Then we tarried by the heaped-up cairn that 
 marked some long-forgotten strife ; and then by 
 the Maen Hir, a long boulder, under which some 
 fabled giant lay ; and next a great rocking stone, 
 amid a field of beans, which we found Farmer 
 Khuddlan — a sturdy specimen of a Welsh Celt, 
 high cheek-boned and sharp-eyed — contemplating 
 with great satisfaction. 
 
 High above the sea of green stalks towered 
 that wizard altar, where whilom an archdruid 
 had sat, and offered up the blood of his fellow-men 
 to gods whose names and rites are alike buried in 
 oblivion ; but Strabo tells us that it was from the 
 flowing blood of the victim that the Druidesses — 
 virgins supposed to be endowed with the gift 
 of prophecy — divined the events of the future; 
 and this old stone, now deemed but a barrier 
 to the plough, had witnessed those terrible observ- 
 ances.
 
 A PERILOUS RAMBLE. 141 
 
 Poised one block upon the other, resting on 
 the space a sparrow alone might occupy, and hav- 
 ing stood balanced thus mysteriously for uncounted 
 ages, lay the rocking stone. The farmer applied 
 his strong hand to the spheroidal mass, and after 
 one or two impulses it swayed most perceptibly. 
 Then begging me not to forget his son, who was 
 with our Fusileers far away at Varna, he respect- 
 fully uncovered his old white head, and left us to 
 continue his tour of the crops, but not without 
 bestowing upon us a peculiar and knowing smile, 
 that made the blood mantle in the peachlike 
 cheeks of Winifred. 
 
 *How strange are the reflections these solemn* 
 old relics excite !' said she somewhat hastily; 'if, 
 indeed, one may pretend to value or to think 
 of such things in these days of ours, when pictu- 
 resque superstition is dying, and poetry is long 
 since dead.' 
 
 * Poetry dead ?' 
 
 * I think it died with Byron.' 
 
 * Poetry can never die while beauty exists,' 
 said I, smiling rather pointedly in her face. 
 
 My mind being so filled with Estelle and 
 her fancied image, caused me to be unusually soft
 
 142 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 and tender to Winifred. I seemed to be mingling 
 one woman's presence with that of another. I 
 regarded Winifred as the dearest of friends ; but 
 I loved Estelle with a passion that was full of 
 enthusiasm and admiration. 
 
 *No two men have the same idea of beauty,' 
 said Winifred after a pause. 
 
 ' True, nor any two nations ; it exists chiefly, 
 perhaps, in the mind of the lover.' 
 
 ' Yet love has nothing exactly to do with it.' 
 
 'Prove this,' said I, laughing as I caught her 
 hand in mine. 
 
 ' Easily. Ask a Chinese his idea of loveliness, 
 and he will tell you, a woman with her eyebrows 
 plucked out, the lids painted, her teeth blackened, 
 and her feet shapeless ; and what does the cynical 
 Voltaire say? — "Ask a toad what is beauty, the 
 supremely beautiful, and he will answer you, it is 
 his female, with two round eyes projecting out of 
 its little head, abroad flat neck, a yellow breast, and 
 dark-brown back" ? Even red hair is thought lovely 
 by some ; and did not Duke Philip the Good insti- 
 tute the order of the Golden Fleece of Burgundy in 
 honour of a damsel whose hair was as yellow as saf- 
 fron ; and now, Harry Hardinge, what is your idea ?'
 
 A PERILOUS RA.MBLE. 143 
 
 ' Can you ask me ?' I exclaimed with some- 
 thing of ardour, for she looked so laughingly 
 bright and intelligent as she spoke ; then divining 
 that I was thinking of another, not of her, *for 
 there is a thread in our thoughts even as there is 
 a pulse in our hearts, and he who can hold the 
 one knows how to think, and he who can move the 
 other knows how to feel,' she said, with a point 
 scarcely meant, 
 
 * The eye may be pleased, the vanity flattered, 
 and ambition excited by a woman of beauty, espe- 
 cially if she is one of rank ; yet the heart may be 
 won by one her inferior. Talking of beauty, Lady 
 Naseby has striven hard to get the young earl, her 
 nephew, to marry our friend. Lady Estelle.' 
 
 * Would she have him?' I asked, while my 
 cheek grew hot. 
 
 ' I cannot say — but he declined,' replied Wini- 
 fred, pressing a wild rose to her nostrils. 
 
 * Declined — impossible !' 
 
 ' Why impossible ? But in her fiery pride 
 Estelle will never, never forgive him ; though he 
 was already engaged to one whom he, then at 
 least, loved well.' 
 
 * Ah — the Irish girl, I suppose ?'
 
 144 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Winifred, with a short Httle sigh, 
 as she looked down. 
 
 ' Such a girl as Estelle Cressingham must 
 always find admirers.' 
 
 ' Hundreds ; but as the estates, like the title, 
 have passed to the next male heir, and Lady 
 Naseby has only a life-rent of the jointure house 
 in Hants — Walcot Park, a lovely place — she is 
 anxious that her daughter should make a most 
 suitable marriage.' 
 
 ' Which means lots of tin, I suppose ?' said I 
 sourly. 
 
 'Exactly,' responded Winifred, determined, 
 perhaps, if I had the bad taste to speak so much 
 of Estelle, to say unpleasant things; 'and the 
 favoured _2J(X?'ii at present is Viscount Pottersleigh, 
 who comes here to-morrow, as his letter informed 
 
 her.' 
 
 * Old Pottersleigh is sixty if he is a day !' said 
 I emphatically. 
 
 * What has age to do with the matter in view? 
 Money and position are preferable to all fancies of 
 the heart, I fear.' 
 
 'Nay, nay, Winifred, you belie yourself and 
 Lady Estelle too ; love is before everything !'
 
 A PERILOUS RAMBLE. 145 
 
 She laughed at my energy, while I began to 
 feel that, next to making love, there is nothing 
 so pleasant or so suggestive as talking of it to 
 a pretty girl; and I beg to assure you, that it was 
 somewhat perilous work with one like Winifred 
 Lloyd; a girl who had the sweetest voice, the 
 most brilliant complexion, and the softest eyes 
 perhaps in all North "Wales. She now drew her 
 hand away ; till then I had half forgot it was her 
 hand I had been holding. 
 
 * Kemember that oft-quoted line in the song of 
 Montrose,' said she, pretty pointedly. 
 
 ^ Which ? for I haven't an idea.' 
 
 ' " Love one — and love no more." ' • 
 
 * The great marquis was wrong,' said I; ^at 
 least, if, according to a more obscure authority in 
 such matters. Price of ours, one may love many 
 times and always truly.' 
 
 * Indeed !' Her lip curled as she spoke. 
 
 * Yes ; for may not the same charms, traits, 
 manner, and beauty which lure us to love once, 
 lure us to love again ?' 
 
 Winifred actually sighed, with something very 
 like irritation, as she said, 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' I think all this the most abominable sophis- 
 try, Mr. Hardinge, and I feel a hatred for " Price 
 of ours," whoever he may be.' 
 
 * Mister ! Wliy I was Harry a moment ago.' 
 
 'Well, here is the abode of Carneydd Llew- 
 ellyn; and you must tell me what you think of 
 your future Welsh comrade ; his beard may be 
 to the regimental pattern, though decidedly his 
 horns and moustaches are not.' 
 
 As she said this, again laughingly, we found 
 ourselves close to a little hut that abutted on a 
 thatched cottage and cow-house, in a most se- 
 cluded place, a little glen or dell, over which the 
 trees were arching, and so forming a vista, through 
 which we saw Craigaderyn Court, as if in a frame 
 of foliage. 
 
 She opened a little wicket, and at the sound of 
 her voice the goat came forth, dancing on his hind 
 legs — a trick she had taught him — or playfully 
 butting her skirts with his horns, regarding me 
 somewhat dubiously and suspiciously the while 
 with his great hazel eyes. 
 
 He was truly a splendid specimen of the old 
 Carnarvonshire breed of goats, which once ran 
 wild over the mountains there, and were either
 
 A PERILOUS EAMBLE. 147 
 
 hunted by dogs or shot with the bullet so lately as 
 Pennant's time. His hair, which was longer than 
 is usual with those of England, led me to fancy 
 there was a Cashmerian cross in his blood; his 
 black horns were two feet three inches long, and 
 more than two feet from one sharp tip to the other. 
 He was as white as the new-fallen snow, with a 
 black streak down the back, and his beard was as 
 venerable in proportion and volume as it was silky 
 in texture. 
 
 * He is indeed a beautiful creature — a noble 
 fellow !' I exclaimed with genuine admiration. 
 
 * And just four years old. I obtained him 
 when quite a kid.' 
 
 *I am so loth that the Fusileers should de- 
 prive you of him.' 
 
 ' Talk not of that ; but when you see my goat, 
 my old pet Carneydd Llewellyn, marching proudly 
 at their head, and decked with chaplets on St. 
 David's day, when you are far, far away from us, 
 you will — ' she paused. 
 
 ' What, Winifred ?' 
 
 ' Think sometimes of Craigaderyn — of to - day 
 — and of me, perhaps,' she added, with a laugh 
 that sounded strangely unlike one.
 
 148 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Do I require auglit to make me think of you?' 
 said I, patting kindly the plump ungloved hand 
 with which she was caressing the goat's head, and 
 which in whiteness rivalled the hue of his glossy 
 coat ; and thereon I saw a Conway pearl, in a ring 
 I had given her long ago, when she was quite a 
 little girl. 
 
 * I hope not — and papa — I hope not.' 
 
 The bright beaming face was upturned to me, 
 and, as the deuce would have it, I kissed her : the 
 impulse was irresistible. 
 
 She trembled then, withdrew a pace or two, 
 grew very pale, and her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 *You should not have done that, Harry — I 
 mean, Mr. Hardinge.' 
 
 There was something wild and pitiful in her face. 
 
 ' Tears ?' said I, not knowing very well what to 
 say; for 'people often do say very little, when 
 they mean a great deal.' 
 
 ' My old favourite will know the black ladders 
 of Carney dd Llewellyn no more,' said she, stooping 
 over the goat caressingly to hide her confusion. 
 
 ' But, Winifred — Miss Lloyd — why tears ?' 
 
 * Can you ask me ?' said she, her eyes flashing 
 through them.
 
 A PERILOUS RAMBLE. 149 
 
 ' Why, what a fuss you make ! I have often 
 done so — when a boy !' 
 
 * But you are no longer a boy ; nor am I a 
 girl, Mr. Hardinge.' 
 
 'Do please call me Harry, like Sir Madoc,' 
 I entreated. 
 
 ' Not now — after this ; and here comes Lady 
 Estelle.' 
 
 *Estelle!' 
 
 At that moment, not far from us, we saw Lady 
 Naseby, driven in a pony-phaeton by Caradoc, and 
 Lady Estelle with Guilfoyle a little way behind 
 them, on horseback, and unaccompanied by any 
 groom, coming sweeping at a trot down the. 
 wooded glen. 
 
 Such is the amusing inconsistency of the 
 human heart — the male human heart, perhaps 
 my lady readers will say — that though I had been 
 more than flirting with Winifred Lloyd — on the 
 eve of becoming too tender, perhaps — I felt a pang 
 of jealousy on seeing that Guilfoyle was Lady 
 Estelle's sole companion, for Dora was doubtless 
 immersed in the details of her forthcoming fete. 
 
 Had she seen us ? 
 
 Had she detected in the distance that little
 
 150 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 salute ? If so, in the silly, kindly, half-flirting, 
 and half-affectionate impulse which led me to kiss 
 my heautiful companion and playfellow of the past 
 years — the mere impulse of a moment — if mis- 
 taken, I might have ruined myself with her — 
 perhaps with both. 
 
 * A lovely animal ! I hope you are gratified, 
 Mr. Hardinge?' said Lady Estelle, with — but 
 perhaps it was fancy — a curl on her red lip, as she 
 reined-in her spirited horse sharply with one firm 
 hand, and caressed his arching neck gracefully 
 with the other, while he rose on his hind legs, and 
 her veil flew aside. 
 
 Already dread of the future had chased away 
 my first emotion of pique, nor was it possible to be 
 long angry with Estelle; for with men and women 
 alike, her beauty made her irresistible. Some ene- 
 mies among the latter she undoubtedly had ; they 
 might condemn the regularity of her features as 
 too classically severe, or have said that at times 
 the flash of her dark eyes was proud or defiant ; 
 but the smile that played about her lip was so soft 
 and winning, that its influence was felt by all. 
 
 Her perfect ease of manner seemed cold — very 
 cold indeed — when compared to the thoughts that
 
 A PERILOUS RAMBLE. 151 
 
 burned in my own breast at that moment — dread 
 that I might have been trifling with Winifred 
 Lloyd, for whom I cherished a sincere and tender 
 friendship ; intense annoyance lest my friend 
 Caradoc, who really loved her, might resent the 
 affair; and, more than all, that she for whom I 
 would freely have perilled limb and life might also 
 resent, or mistake, the situation entirely. 
 
 And in this vague mood of mind I returned 
 with the little party to the house, where the bell 
 had rung for tea, before dinner, whicli was always 
 served at eight o'clock. As we quitted the goat, 
 its keeper, an old peasant dame, wearing a man's 
 hat and coat, with a striped petticoat and la^;ge 
 spotted handkerchief, looked affectionately after 
 Miss Lloyd, and uttered an exclamation in Welsh, 
 which Caradoc translated to me as being, 
 
 ' God bless her ! May feet so light and pretty 
 never carry a heavy heart !'
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 
 
 How wild and inconceivable, abrupt, yet quite 
 practicable, were the brilliant visions I drew, the 
 projects I formed ! Mentally I sprang over all 
 barriers, cleared at a flying leap every obstacle. 
 In fancy I achieved all my desires. I was the 
 husband of Estelle ; the chosen son-in-law of her 
 mother — the man of all men to whom she would 
 have intrusted the future happiness of her only 
 daughter. The good old lady had sacrificed pride, 
 ambition, and all to love. Time, life-usage, all 
 became subservient to me when in these victorious 
 moods. I had distanced all rivals — she was mine; 
 I hers. I had cut the service, bidden farewell to 
 the Royal Welsh ; she, for a time at least, to 
 London, the court, the Row, * society,' the world 
 itself for me ; and were rusticating, hand-in-hand,
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETEE. 153 
 
 amid the woods of Walcot Park, or somewhere 
 else, of which I had a very vague idea. But from 
 these day-dreams, I had to rouse myself to the 
 knowledge that, so far from being accepted, I had 
 not yet ventured to propose; that I had more than 
 one formidable rival ; that other obstacles were to 
 be overcome ; and that Lady Naseby was as cold 
 and proud and unapproachable as ever. 
 
 The day of Dora's fete proved a lovely one. 
 The merry little creature — for she was much less 
 in stature than her elder sister — with her bright 
 blue eyes and wealth of golden hair, was full of 
 smiles, pleasure, and impatience ; and was as 
 radiant with gems, the gifts of friends, as a young 
 bride. I welcomed the day with vague hopes that 
 grew into confidence, though I could scarcely fore- 
 see how it was to close for me, or all that was to 
 happen. 
 
 Though Caradoc and I had come from Win- 
 chester ostensibly to attend this fete, I must 
 glance briefly at many of the details of it, and 
 confine myself almost to the dramatis personcs. 
 Suffice it to say, that there was a militia band on 
 one of the flower-terraces ; there was a pretty dark- 
 eyed Welsh gipsy, with black dishevelled hair,
 
 154 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 who told fortunes, and picked up, but omitted to 
 restore, certain stray spoons and forks ; there was 
 an itinerant Welsh harper, whom the stag-hound 
 Brach, the same stately animal which I had seen 
 on the rug before the hall-fire, inspired by that 
 animosity which all dogs seem to have for men- 
 dicants, assailed about the calf of the leg, for 
 which he seemed to have a particular fancy. So 
 Sir Madoc had to plaster the bite with a fifty- 
 pound note. Then there was a prophetic hermit, 
 in a moss-covered grotto, cloaked like a gray friar, 
 and bearded like the pard ; a wizard yclept Merlin, 
 who, having imbibed too much brandy, made a 
 great muddle of the predictions and couplets so 
 carefully intrusted to him for judicious utterance ; 
 and who assigned the initials of Lady Estelle 
 Cressingham to the portly old vicar, as those of 
 his future spouse, and those of his lady, a stout 
 matron with eight bantlings, to me, and so on. 
 
 The company poured in fast ; and after being 
 duly received by Sir Madoc and Miss Lloyd in 
 the great drawing-room, literally crowded all the 
 beautiful grounds, the band in white uniform on 
 the terrace being a rival attraction to the great 
 refreshment tent or marquee — a stately poly-
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 155 
 
 cliromed edifice, with gilt bells banging from each 
 point of the vandyked edging — wberein a standing 
 luncbeon was arranged, under tbe care of Owen 
 Gwyllim ; and over all floated a great banner, er- . 
 mine and pean, with the lion rampant of the Lloyds. 
 
 A ball was to follow in the evening. The floor 
 of the old dining-hall had been waxed till it shone 
 like glass for the dancers. Its walls were hung 
 with evergreens and coloured lamps, and a select 
 few were invited ; but Fate ordained that neither 
 Lady Estelle nor I were to figure in this, the 
 closing portion of the festivities. 
 
 A number of beautiful girls in charming toil- 
 ettes were present. People of the best style too 
 mingled with humble middle-class country folks — 
 tenants and so forth. There were some officers 
 from the detachments quartered in Chester, and 
 several little half-known parsons, in Noah's-ark 
 coats, who came sidling in, and intrenched them- 
 selves beside huge mammas in quiet corners, to 
 discuss parish matters and general philanthropy 
 through the medium of iced claret-cup and spark- 
 ling moselle. And there were present too, as Guil- 
 foyle phrased it, ' some of those d — d fellows who 
 write and paint, by Jove !'
 
 156 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 On this day Guilfoyle, thougli he had carefully 
 attired himself in correct morning costume, seemed 
 rather preoccupied and irritable. The presence of 
 Pottersleigh and so many others placed his society 
 somewhat at a discount; and, glass in eye, he 
 seemed to watch the arrival of the lady guests, 
 especially any who were darkly attired, with a 
 nervous anxiety, which, somehow, I mentally 
 connected with the pale woman in church, and 
 Dora's story of the initials. 
 
 There was undoubtedly some mystery about 
 him. 
 
 Viewed from the perron of the house, the scene 
 was certainly a gay one — the greenness of the 
 closely-mown lawn, dotted by the bright costumes 
 of the ladies, and a few scarlet coats (among them 
 Caradoc's and mine) ; the brilliance and the per- 
 fume of flowers were there ; the buzz of happy 
 voices, the soft laughter of well-bred women, and 
 the strains of the band, as they ebbed and flowed 
 on the gentle breeze of the sunny noon. 
 
 Every way it was most enjoyable. Here on 
 one side spread an English chase, with oaks as 
 old perhaps as the days when ^Beddgelert heard 
 the bugle sound,' leafy, crisp, and massive, their
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 157 
 
 shadows casting a tint that was almost blue on 
 the soft greensward, with the sea rippling and 
 sparkling about a mile distant, where a portion of 
 the chase ended at the edge of some lofty cliffs. 
 On the other side rose the Welsh mountains, with 
 all their gray rocks, huge boulders, and foaming 
 waterfalls — mountains from where there seemed in 
 fancy to come the scent of wild flowers, of gorse 
 and blackberries, to dispel the fashionable languor 
 of the promenaders on the lawn. The leaves, the 
 flowers, the trees of the chase, the ladies' dresses, 
 and the quaint facade of the old Tudor mansion 
 were all warm with sunshine. 
 
 Old Morgan Roots the gardener, to his great 
 disgust, had been compelled to rifle the treasures 
 of his hothouses, and to strip his shelves of the 
 most wonderful exotics, to furnish bouquets for the 
 ladies ; for Morgan was proud of his floral effects, 
 and when displaying his slippings from Kew and all 
 the best gardens in England, tulips from Holland 
 and the Cape, peonies from Persia, rhododendrons 
 from Asia, azaleas from America, wax-like mag- 
 nolias, and so forth, he was wont to exult over his 
 rival, the vicar's Scotch gardener, whom he stig- 
 matised as ' a Sassenach ;' and not the least of his
 
 158 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 efforts were some superb roses, named 'the Dora,' 
 in honour of the fair-haired heroine of the day. 
 
 And Caradoc — who was a good judge of every- 
 thing, from cutlets and clicquot to horses and 
 harness, and had a special eye for ankles, insteps, 
 and eyelashes, style and colour, &c. — declared the 
 fete to be quite a success. 
 
 As I looked around me, I could not but feel 
 how England is preeminently, beyond all others, 
 the land of fair women and of beauty. Lady 
 Estelle, with her pale complexion and thick dark 
 hair, her dress of light-blue silk, over which she 
 wore a white transparent tunique, her tiny bonnet 
 of white lace, her gloves and parasol of the palest 
 silver-gray, seemed a very perfect specimen of her 
 class ; but until Lord Pottersleigh appeared, which 
 was long after dancing had begun on the sward 
 (by country visitors chiefly), she sat by the side of 
 mamma, and declined all offers from partners. 
 
 The Viscount — my principal heU noire — had 
 arrived over -night in his own carriage from 
 Chester, but did not appear at breakfast next 
 morning, nor until fully midday, as he had to pass 
 — so Dora whispered to me — several hours in an 
 arm-chair, with his gouty feet enveloped in flannel,
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 159 
 
 while he regaled himself by sipping colchicum and 
 warm wine-whey, though he alleged that his lame- 
 ness was caused by a kick from his horse ; and 
 now, when with hobbling steps he came to where 
 Lady Naseby and her stately daughter were seated, 
 he did not seem — his coronet and Order of the 
 Garter excepted — a rival to be much dreaded by a 
 smart Welsh Fusileer of five-and-twenty. 
 
 Fully in his sixtieth year, and considerably 
 wasted — more perhaps by early dissipation than 
 by time — the Viscount was a pale, thin, and feeble- 
 looking man, hollow-chested and slightly bent, 
 with an unsteadiness of gait, an occasional queru- 
 lousness of manner and restlessness of eye, as if 
 nervous of the approach of many of those among 
 whom he now found himself, and whom he viewed 
 as 'bumpkins in a state of rude health.' Guil- 
 foyle, of whom he evidently had misgivings, he 
 regarded with a cold and aristocratic stare, after 
 carefully adjusting a gold eyeglass on his thin 
 aquiline nose, and yet they had been twice intro- 
 duced elsewhere. 
 
 His features were good. In youth he had been 
 deemed a handsome man ; but now his brilliant 
 teeth were of Paris, and what remained of his hair
 
 160 UNDEB THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 was carefully dyed a clear dark brown, that con- 
 sorted but ill with the wrinkled aspect of his face, 
 and the withered appearance of his thin white 
 hands, when he ungloved, which was seldom. 
 His whole air and style were so different from 
 those of hearty and jolly Sir Madoc, whose years 
 were the same, and who was looking so bland, so 
 bald and shiny in face and brow, so full and round 
 in waistcoat, with one of the finest camellias in 
 his button-hole, *just like Morgan Eoots the gar- 
 dener going to church on Sunday,' as Dora had 
 it, while he watched the dancers, and clapped his 
 hands to the music. 
 
 * Ha, Pottersleigh,' said he, ' you and I have 
 done with this sort of thing now ; but I have seen 
 the day, when I was young, less fleshy, and didn't 
 ride with a crupper, I could whirl in the waltz 
 like a spinning jenny.' 
 
 To this awkward speech the Viscount, who 
 affected juvenility, responded by a cold smile ; 
 and as he approached and was welcomed by Lady 
 Naseby and her daughter, the latter glanced at 
 me, and I could detect an undefinable expression, 
 that savoured of amusement, or disdain, or an- 
 noyance, or all together, ending with a haughty
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 161 
 
 smile, hovering on her dark and ever- sparkling 
 eyes ; for she knew by past experience, that from 
 thenceforward, with an air of proprietary that was 
 very provoking, he would be certain to hover con- 
 stantly beside her; and now, after paying the 
 usual compliments to the two ladies, his lordship 
 condescended to honour me with a glance and a 
 smile, but not with his hand. 
 
 * Ah, how do you do, Mr. Hardinge — or shall 
 I have the pleasure of saying Captain Hardinge ?' 
 said he. 
 
 ' Fortune has not so far favoured me — I am 
 only a sub still.' 
 
 * So was Wellington in his time,' said Sir Ma- 
 doc, tapping me on the shoulder. 
 
 * Ah, but you'll soon be off to the East now, I 
 suppose.' (His eyes expressed the words, 'I 
 hope.') ' We shall soon come to blows with those 
 Russian fellows, and then promotions will come 
 thick and fast. I have it as a certainty from 
 Aberdeen himself, that a landing somewhere on 
 the enemy's coast cannot be much longer delayed 
 now.' 
 
 * And with one-half our army dead, and the 
 other half worn out by camp-fever, cholera, and 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 suiferings at Yarna, we shall take tlie field with 
 winter before us — a Eussian winter too !' said Sir 
 Madoc, wlio was a bitter opponent of the Ministry. 
 
 Ere Potter sleigh could reply, to avert any dis- 
 cussion of politics, the Countess spoke. 
 
 *I trust,' said she, Hhat the paragraph in the 
 Court Journal and other papers, which stated that 
 your title is about to be made an earldom, is 
 something more than mere rumour ?' 
 
 'Much more, I have the pleasure to inform 
 you,' mumbled this hereditary legislator. 'I have 
 already received official notice of the honour in- 
 tended me by her Majesty. I supported the Aber- 
 deen ministry so vigorously throughout this Eus- 
 sian affair, clearing them, so far as in me lay, from 
 the allegations of vacillation, that in gratitude they 
 were bound to recognise my services.' 
 
 He played with his eyeglass, and glanced at 
 Estelle. She seemed to be looking intently at the 
 shifting crowd; yet she heard him, for a slight 
 colour crossed her cheek. 
 
 'So Potter is to be an earl,' thought I; 'and 
 she perhaps is contrasting his promotion with that 
 which I have to hope for.' 
 
 Even this brief conversation by its import
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETEE. 163 
 
 made me fear that my dreams might never come 
 to pass — that my longings were too impossible for 
 fulfilment. I envied Caradoc, who, having no dis- 
 tinction of rank to contend with in his love affair, 
 seemed to be getting on very well with Winifred 
 Lloyd, who, to his great delight, had made him 
 her aide-de-camp and useful friend during the day. 
 
 * Our troops will find it tough work encounter- 
 ing the Russians, I expect,' said Lord Pottersleigh ; 
 ' for although the rank and file are utter barba- 
 rians, Mr. Hardinge, many of their officers are 
 men of high culture, and all regard the Czar as a 
 demigod, and Russia as holy.' 
 
 * I met some of them when I was in the north 
 of Europe,' said Guilfoyle — who, being rather ig- 
 nored by Pottersleigh, felt ruffled, if not secretly 
 enraged and disposed to contradict him ; * and 
 though I think all foreigners usually absurd — ' 
 
 ' Ah, that is a thoroughly English and some- 
 what provincial idea,' said his lordship, quietly 
 interrupting him ; ' but I have read of an old 
 Carib who said, " The only obstinate savages I 
 have met are the English ;' they adopt none of our 
 customs." ' 
 
 ' To adopt their dress might have been difficult
 
 104 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 in tliose days ; but all foreigners, and especially 
 Russians, are somewhat strange, my lord, when 
 judged by an English standard. I can relate a 
 curious instance of attempted peculation in a Rus- 
 sian official, such as would never occur with one 
 occupying a corresponding position here. When 
 attache at the court of Catzenelnbogen, I once 
 visited a wealthy Russian landowner, a Count 
 Tolstoff, who lived near Riga, at a time when he 
 was about to receive the sum of eighty thousand 
 silver roubles from the imperial treasury, for hemp, 
 timber, and other produce of his estate, sold for the 
 use of the navy. Ivan Nicolaevitch, the Pulkovnich 
 commanding the marine infantry stationed in the 
 fortress of Dunamunde, was to pay this money; but 
 that official informed Tolstoff verbally — he was too 
 wary to commit anything to paper — that unless 
 six thousand of the roubles were left in his hands, 
 the whole might be lost by the way, as my friend's 
 residence was in a solitary place, and the neigh- 
 bourhood abounded with lawless characters. 
 
 ' On Tolstoff threatening to complain to the 
 Emperor, the Pulkovnich most unwillingly handed 
 over the entire sum, which was delivered in 
 great state by a praperchich, or ensign, and six
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETRE. 165 
 
 soldiers ; and there we thought the matter would 
 end. But that very night, as we sat at supper, 
 smoking our meerschaums to digest a repast of 
 mutton with mushrooms, compote of almonds and 
 stuifed carrots — carrots scooped out like pop-guns, 
 and loaded with mincemeat — the dining-room was 
 softly entered by six men dressed like Russian 
 peasants, with canvas caftans and rope girdles, 
 hark shoes and long beards, their faces covered 
 with crape. They threatened me with instant 
 death by the pistol if I dared to stir ; and pinion- 
 ing my friend to a chair, placed the barrel of 
 another to his head, and demanded the treasure, 
 or to be told where it was. « 
 
 * Tolstoff, who was a very cool fellow, gave me 
 a peculiar smile, and told me in French to open 
 the lower drawer of his escritoire, and give them 
 every kopec I found there. 
 
 * On obtaining permission from the leader, I 
 crossed the room, and found in the drawer indi- 
 cated no money, but a brace of revolver pistols. 
 With these, which luckily were loaded and capped, 
 I shot down two of the intruders, and the rest fled. 
 On tearing the masks from the fallen men, we 
 discovered them to be — whom think you? The
 
 166 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Pulkovnicli Nicholaevitch and the praperchich of 
 the escort ! There was an awful row about the 
 affair, as you may imagine ; but in a burst of 
 gratitude my friend gave me this valuable ring, a 
 diamond one, which I have worn ever since.' 
 
 * God bless my soul, what a terrible story !' 
 exclaimed Pottersleigh, regarding the ring with 
 interest ; for Guilfoyle usually selected a new 
 audience for each of these anecdotes, by which he 
 hoped to create an interest in himself; and cer- 
 tainly he seemed to do so for a time in the mind 
 of the somewhat simple old lord, who now entered 
 into conversation with him on the political situa- 
 tion, actually took his arm, and they j)roceeded 
 slowly across the law^n together. I was sorry 
 Caradoc had not overheard the new version of the 
 ring, and wondered how many stories concerning 
 it the proprietor had told to others, or whether he 
 had merely a stock on hand, for chance narration. 
 Was it vanity, art, or weakness of intellect that 
 prompted him ? Yet I have known a Scotch cap- 
 tain of the line, a very shrewd fellow, who was 
 wont to tell similar stories of a ring, and, oddly 
 enough, over and over again to the same audience 
 at the mess- table.
 
 THE FETE CHAMPETKE. 167 
 
 Being rid of both now, I resolved to lose no 
 time in taking advantage of the situation. Sir 
 Madoc and ' mamma ' were in the refreshment 
 tent, where I hoped they were enjoying them- 
 selves ; Dora was busy with a young sub from 
 Chester— little Tom Clavell of the 19th— who 
 evidently thought her fete was ^ awfully jolly ;' 
 Caradoc had secured Winifred for one dance — she 
 could spare him but one — and his usual soldierly 
 swing was now reduced to suit her measure, as 
 they whirled amid the throng on the smoothly- 
 shorn turf.
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 ON THE CLIFFS. 
 
 Lady Estelle received me with a welcome smile, 
 for at that time all around her were strangers ; 
 and I hoped — nay, felt almost certain — that plea- 
 sure to see me inspired it, for on my approach 
 she immediately rose from her seat, joined me, 
 and as if by tacit and silent consent, we walked 
 onward together. 
 
 Pottersleigh's presence at Craigaderyn Court, 
 and the rumours it revived; something cool and 
 patronising in his manner towards me, for he had 
 not forgotten that night in Park-lane ; Lady Nase- 
 by's influence against me ; the chances that some 
 sudden military or political contingency might cut 
 short my leave of absence ; the certainty that ere 
 long I should have to 'go where glory waited' me, 
 and perhaps something less pleasant in the shape
 
 ON THE CLIFFS. 169 
 
 of mutilation — the wooden leg which Dora referred 
 to — a coffinless grave in a ghastly battle trench, — 
 all rendered my anxiety to come to an understand- 
 ing with Lady Estelle irrepressible. 
 
 My secret was already known to Phil Caradoc, 
 fully occupied though he was with his own passion 
 for Winifred Lloyd ; and I felt piqued by the idea 
 of being less successful than I honestly hoped he 
 was, for Phil was the king of good fellows, and 
 one of my best friends. 
 
 * You have seemed very triste to-day — looking 
 quite as if you lived in some thoughtful world of 
 your own,' said Lady Estelle, when she left her 
 seat ; ' neither laughing nor dancing, scarcely evei^ 
 conversing, and certainly not with me. Why is 
 this ? ' 
 
 ' You have declined all dancing, hence the 
 music has lost its zest for me.' 
 
 ' It is not brilliant ; besides, it is somewhat of 
 a maypole or harvest-home accomplishment, danc- 
 ing on the grass ; pretty laborious too ! And then, 
 as Welsh airs predominate, one could scarcely 
 waltz to the " Noble Kace of Shenkin." ' 
 
 ' You reserve yourself for the evening, proba- 
 bly?'
 
 170 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 * Exactly. I infinitely prefer a well-waxed floor 
 to a lawn, however well mown and rolled. But 
 concerning your — what shall I term it — sadness ?' 
 
 ' Why ask me when you may divine the cause, 
 though I dare not explain — here at least T 
 
 After a little pause she disengaged two flowers 
 from her houquet, and presenting them to me 
 with an arch and enchanting smile — for when 
 beyond her mother's ken, she could at times be 
 perfectly natural — she said, 
 
 ' At this floral fete champetre, I cannot permit 
 you to be the only undecorated man.' 
 
 ' Being in uniform, I never thought of such an 
 ornament.' 
 
 *Wear these, then,' said she, placing them in 
 a button-hole. 
 
 ' As your gift and for your sake ?' 
 
 ' If you choose, do so.' 
 
 ' Ah, who would not but choose ?' said I, ren- 
 dered quite bright and gay even by such a trifle as 
 this. ' But, Lady Estelle, do you know what these 
 are emblematic of?' 
 
 ' In the language of the flowers, do you mean ?' 
 
 ' Of course ; what else could he mean ?' said a 
 merry voice ; and the bright face of Dora, nestled
 
 ON THE CLIFFS. 171 
 
 amid her golden hair, appeared, as she joined us, 
 flushed with her dancing, and her hreast palpitat- 
 ing with pleasure, at a time when I most cordi- 
 ally wished her elsewhere. ' Yes,' she continued, 
 * there is a pansy ; that's for thought, as Ophelia 
 says — and a rosebud ; that is for affection.' 
 
 ' But I don't believe in such symbolism, Dora ; 
 do you, Mr. Hardinge ?' 
 
 ' At this moment 1 do, from my soul.' 
 She laughed, or affected to laugh, at my 
 earnestness ; but it was not displeasing to her, 
 and we walked slowly on. Among the multitude 
 of strangers — to us they were so, at least — to iso- 
 late ourselves was comparatively easy now. Be- 
 sides, it is extremely probable that under the eyes 
 of so many girls she had been rather bored by the 
 senile assiduity of her old admirer ; so, avoiding 
 the throng around the dancers, the band, and the 
 luncheon marquee, we walked along the terraces 
 towards the chase, accompanied by Dora, who 
 opened a wicket in a hedge, and led us by a narrow 
 path suddenly to the cliffs that overhung the sea. 
 Here we were quite isolated. Even the music of 
 the band failed to reach us ; we heard only the 
 monotonous chafing of the waves below, and the
 
 172 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 sad cry of an occasional sea-bird, as it swooped up 
 or down from its eyrie. The change from the 
 glitter and brilliance of the crowded lawn to this 
 utter solitude was as sudden as it was pleasing. 
 In the distance towered up Great Orme's Head, 
 seven hundred and fifty feet in height ; its 
 enormous masses of limestone rock abutting 
 against the foam, and the ruins of Pen-y-Dinas 
 cutting the sky-line. The vast expanse of the 
 Irish Sea rolled away to the northwestward, dotted 
 by many a distant sail ; and some eighty feet be- 
 low us the surf was rolling white against the 
 rocky base of the headland on which we stood. 
 
 ' We are just over the Bod Mynach, or 
 '' monk's dwelling," ' said Dora. * Have you not 
 yet seen it, Estelle ?' 
 
 ' No ; I am not curious in such matters.' 
 ' It is deemed one of the most interesting 
 things in North Wales, quite as much so as St. 
 Tudno's Cradle, or the rocking-stone on yonder 
 promontory. Papa is intensely vain of being its 
 proprietor. Gruffyd ap Madoc hid here, when he 
 fled from the Welsh after his desertion of Henry 
 III. ; so it was not made yesterday. Let us go 
 down and rest ourselves in it.'
 
 ON THE CLIFFS. 173 
 
 * Down the cliffs ?' exclaimed Lady Estelle 
 with astonishment. 
 
 * Yes — why not ? There is an excellent path, 
 with steps hewn in the rock. Harry Hardinge 
 knows the way, I am sure.' 
 
 * As a boy I have gone there often, in search of 
 puffins' nests; but remember that Lady Estelle — ' 
 
 * Is not a Welsh girl of course,' said Dora. 
 'Nor a goat, like Carneydd Llewellyn,' added 
 
 her friend. 
 
 * But with Mr. Hardinge's hand to assist you,' 
 urged Dora. 
 
 * Well, let us make the essay at once, nor lose 
 time, ere we be missed,' said the other, her mind^ 
 no doubt reverting to mamma and Lord Potters- 
 leigh. 
 
 I began to descend the path first, accepting 
 with pleasure the office of leading Lady Estelle, 
 who for greater security drew off a glove and 
 placed her hand in mine, firmly and reliantly, 
 though the path, a ladder of steps cut in the 
 living rock, almost overhung the sea, and the 
 descent was not without its perils. The headland 
 was cleft in two by some throe of nature, and 
 down this chasm poured a little stream, at the
 
 174 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 mouth of which, as in a diminutive bay, a gaily- 
 painted pleasure-boat of Sir Madoc's, named the 
 Winifred, was moored, and it seemed to be danc- 
 ing on the waves almost beneath us. 
 
 We had barely proceeded some twenty feet 
 down the cliff when Dora, instead of following us, 
 exclaimed that she had dropped a bracelet on the 
 path near the wicket, but we were to go on, and 
 she would soon rejoin us. As she said this she 
 disappeared, and we were thus left alone. 
 
 To linger where we stood, almost in mid-air, 
 w^as not pleasant ; to return to the edge of the 
 cliff and await her there, seemed a useless task. 
 Why should we not continue to descend, as she 
 must soon overtake us ? I could read in the proud 
 face of Lady Estelle, as we paused on that ladder 
 of rock, with her soft and beautiful hand in mine, 
 that she felt in a little dilemma. 
 
 So did I, but my heart beat happily ; to have 
 her so entirely to myself, even for ten minutes, 
 was a source of joy. 
 
 While lingering thus, I gradually led our con- 
 versation up to the point I wished, by talking of my 
 too probable speedy departure for another land ; 
 of the happy days like the present, which I should
 
 ON THE CLIFFS. 175 
 
 never forget; of herself. My lips trembled as my 
 heart seemed to rise to them ; and forgetting the 
 perilous place in which we stood, and remember- 
 ing only that her hand was clasped in mine, I 
 began to look into her face with an expression of 
 love and tenderness which she could not mistake ; 
 for her gaze soon became averted, her bosom 
 heaved, and her colour came and went ; and so, 
 as the minutes fled, we were all unaware that 
 Dora had not yet returned ; that the sultry after- 
 noon had begun to darken as heavy dun clouds 
 rolled up from the seaward, and the air become 
 filled with electricity; and that a sound alleged 
 to be distant thunder had been heard at Craiga- 
 deryn Court, causing some of the guests to prepare 
 for departure, despite Sir Madoc's assurances that 
 no rain would fall, as the glass had been rising. 
 
 Dora was long in returning; so long that, 
 instead of waiting or retracing our steps, proceed- 
 ing hand in hand, and more than once Lady 
 Estelle having to lean on my shoulder for support, 
 we continued to descend the path in the face of 
 the cliff — a path that ultimately led us into a 
 terrible catastrophe.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A PROPOSAL. 
 
 A LONG time elapsed and we did not return ; but 
 amid the bustle that reigned in and around Craig- 
 aderyn Court, our absence was not observed so soon 
 as it might otherwise have been, the attention of 
 the many guests being fully occupied by each 
 other. 
 
 The proposal of Dora's health devolved upon 
 Lord Pottersleigh as the senior bachelor present, 
 and it was drunk amid such cheers as country 
 gentlemen alone can give. Then Sir Madoc, who 
 had a horror of after-dinner speeches in general, 
 replied tersely and forcibly enough, because the 
 words of thanks and praise for his youngest girl 
 came straight from his affectionate heart ; but his 
 white handkerchief was freely applied to the nerv- 
 ous task of polishing his forehead, which gave him
 
 A PROPOSAL. 177 
 
 a sense of relief ; for the worthy old gentleman was 
 no orator, and closed his response by drinking to 
 the health of all present in Welsh. 
 
 'Our good friend's ideas are somewhat anti- 
 quated,' said Pottersleigh to Guilfoyle, who now 
 stuck to him pretty closely ; ' but he is a thorough 
 gentleman of an old school that is passing away.' 
 
 His lordship, however, looked the older man of 
 the two. 
 
 * Antiquated! By Jove, I should think so,' 
 responded the other, who instinctively disliked his 
 host ; ' ideas old as the days when people made 
 war without powder and shot, went to sea without 
 compasses, and pegged their clothes for lack o^ 
 buttons ; but he is a hospitable old file, and his 
 wine — this Chateau d'Yquem, for instance, is ex- 
 cellent.' 
 
 Pottersleigh gave the speaker a quiet stare, and 
 then, as if disliking this style of comment, turned 
 to Lady Naseby for the remainder of the repast. 
 
 The overcasting of the day and a threatening 
 of rain had put an end to much of the dancing on 
 the flower-terrace, and of the promenading in the 
 garden and grounds. The proposal of Dora's health 
 had been deemed the close of the fete ; the ser- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 vants had begun to prepare for the ball, and many 
 of the guests, whose invitation did not include 
 that portion of the festivities — for the grounds, of 
 course, would hold more than the hall — were be- 
 ginning to depart, while a few still lingered in the 
 conservatories, the library, or the picture gallery; 
 thus, though Caradoc was looking through them 
 for me, with a shrewd idea that I was with Lady 
 Estelle, he could not for the life of him imagine 
 where; besides, Phil was anxious to make the 
 most of his time with Miss Lloyd. 
 
 The breaking of the guests into groups caused 
 our absence to be long unnoticed, especially while 
 carriages, gigs, drags, wagonnettes, and saddle- 
 horses were brought in succession to the door ; 
 cloaks and shawls put on, ladies handed in, and 
 the stream of vehicles went pouring down the long 
 lime avenue and out of the park. 
 
 * You have danced but once to-day with Mr. 
 Oaradoc, he has told me,' said Dora in a low voice, 
 as she passed her sister. 
 
 * I had so many to dance with — so many to in- 
 troduce ; and then, think of the evening before us.' 
 
 'He loves you quite passionately, I think, 
 Winny dear; more than words can tell.'
 
 A PROPOSAL. 179 
 
 * So it would seem,' replied Winifred, smiling 
 over her fan. 
 
 ' Why— how ?' 
 
 * He has never spoken to me on the subject.' 
 
 * He will do so before this evening is over, or I 
 am no true prophetess,' said Dora, as she threw 
 back the bright masses of her hair. 
 
 ' That I don't believe.' 
 
 * Why ?' 
 
 'Because he wears at his neck a gold locket, 
 the contents of which no one has seen ; and Mr. 
 Guilfoyle assures me that it holds the likeness of 
 a lady.' 
 
 * Well, time will prove,' replied Dora, as she 
 was again led away by her new admirer, the 
 little sub from Chester ; but her prediction came 
 true. 
 
 Winifred felt instinctively that she was the 
 chief attraction to Caradoc, and was exciting in his 
 breast emotions to which she could not respond. 
 Again and again, when asking her to dance, she 
 had urged in reply, that he would please her more 
 by dancing with others, as there were present 
 plenty of country girls to whom a red coat was 
 quite a magnet ; so poor Caradoc found plenty of
 
 180 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 work cut out for him. Pressed at last by him, 
 Winifred said, while fanning herself, 
 
 ' Do excuse me ; to-night I shall reward you 
 fully ; but meanwhile we may take a little prome- 
 nade. I think all who are to remain must know 
 each other pretty well now;' and taking his arm 
 they passed from the great marquee along the now 
 deserted terrace, to find that the sky was so over- 
 cast and the wind so high, that they turned into 
 an alley of the conservatory, where she expected to 
 find some of their friends, but it was empty ; and 
 as Caradoc's face, and the tremulous inflections of 
 his voice, while he was uttering mere common- 
 places about the sudden change in the weather, 
 the beauty of the flowers, the elegance of the con- 
 servatory, and so forth, told her what was passing 
 in his mind, she became perplexed, annoyed with 
 herself, and said hurriedly, 
 
 * Let us seek Lady Naseby ; I fear that we are 
 quite neglecting her — and she is somewhat par- 
 ticular.' 
 
 ' One moment. Miss Lloyd, ere we go ; I have 
 so longed for an opportunity to speak with you — 
 alone, I mean — for a moment — even for a mo- 
 ment,' said he.
 
 A PROPOSAL. 181 
 
 Winifred Lloyd knew what was coming ; there 
 was a nervous quivering of her upper lip, which 
 was a short one, and showed a small portion of 
 her white teeth, usually imparting an expression 
 of innocence to her face, while its normal one was 
 softness combined with great sweetness. Caradoc 
 had now possessed himself of her right hand, thus 
 without breaking away from him, and making 
 thereby a species of ' scene' between them, an epi= 
 sode to be avoided, she could not withdraw, but 
 stood looking shyly and blushingly half into his 
 handsome face, while he spoke to her with low 
 and broken but earnest utterances. 
 
 * I have decoyed you hither,' said he, ' and you 
 will surely pardon me for doing so, when you 
 think how brief is my time now, here, in this 
 happy home of yours — even in England itself; 
 and when I tell you how anxious I have been to 
 — to address you — ' 
 
 * Mr. Caradoc,' interrupted the girl, now blush- 
 ing furiously behind her fan, ' your moments will 
 soon become minutes !' 
 
 ' Would that the minutes might become hours, 
 and the hours, days and years, could I but spend 
 them with you ! Listen to me, Miss Lloyd — '
 
 182 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Not at present — do, pray, excuse me — I wish 
 to speak with Dora.' 
 
 But instead of having her hand released, it was 
 now pressed by Caradoc between both of his. 
 
 * I will not detain you very long,' said he sadly, 
 almost reproachfully ; ' yon know that I love you ; 
 every time my eyes have met yours, every time I 
 have spoken, my voice must have told you that 
 I do dearly, and if the fondest emotions of my 
 heart — ' 
 
 'A soldier's heart, of which little scraps and 
 shreds have been left in every garrison town ?' 
 
 ' Do not laugh at my honest earnestness !' 
 urged Caradoc with a deep sigh. 
 
 * Pardon me, I do not laugh ; think not that 
 I could be guilty of such a thing !' replied Wini- 
 fred, colouring deeper than ever. 
 
 Beautiful though she was, and well dowered 
 too, this was the first proposal or declaration that 
 had been made to her. The speaker was emi- 
 nently handsome, his voice and eyes were full of 
 passion and earnestness, and she could not hear 
 him without a thrill of pleasure and esteem. 
 
 * I know that I am not worthy of you, perhaps; 
 but—'
 
 A PROPOSAL. 183 
 
 'I thank you, dear Mr. Caradoc, but — but — 
 more is impossible.' 
 
 ' Impossible — why ?' 
 
 She grew quite pale, now, but he still retained 
 her hand ; and her change of colour was perhaps 
 unseen by him, for there was little light in the 
 conservatory, the evening clouds being dark and 
 dense without. 
 
 ' Miss Lloyd — Winifred — dearest Winifred — 
 I love you, love you with all my heart and soul !' 
 
 'Do not say so, I implore you!' said she in an 
 agitated voice, and turning away her head. 
 
 * Do you mean to infer that you are already 
 engaged ?' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 * Or that you love another ?' 
 
 ' That is not a fair question,' she replied, with 
 a little hauteur of manner. 
 
 *It is, circumstanced as I am, and after the 
 avowal I have made.' 
 
 ' Well, I do— not.' 
 
 * And yet you cannot love me ? Alas, I am 
 most unfortunate !' 
 
 ' Let this end, dear Mr. Caradoc,' said Winifred, 
 almost sobbing, and deeply repenting that she had
 
 184 UNDEE THE RED DKAGON. 
 
 taken his arm for a little promenade that was to 
 end in a proposal. Phil, being in full uniform, 
 played with, or swung somewhat nervously, the 
 tassels of his crimson sash, a favourite resort of 
 young officers when in any dubiety or dilemma. 
 After a little pause — 
 
 * May I speak to Sir Madoc on the subject ?' 
 he asked. 
 
 ^No.' 
 
 ' Perhaps my friend Harry Hardinge might 
 advise — ' 
 
 ' Nay, for Heaven's sake don't confer with him 
 on the matter at all !' 
 
 ' Why y said he, startled by her earnestness. 
 
 * Would you make love to me through him — 
 through another ?' 
 
 * You entirely mistake my meaning.' 
 ' What do you mean ?' 
 
 ' Simply what I have said ; that I love you, es- 
 teem and admire you ; that you are indeed most 
 dear to me, and that if I had the approval — ' 
 
 ' Of the lady whose likeness is in your locket ; 
 so treasured that a secret spring secures it ?' said 
 she, suddenly remembering Dora's words as a 
 means of escape.
 
 A PROPOSAL. 185 
 
 * Yes, especially with her approval. I should 
 then be happy, indeed. I know not how you came 
 to know of it; but shall I show you the like- 
 ness ?' 
 
 * If you choose,' said Winifred, thinking in 
 her heart, 'Poor fellow, it must be his mother's 
 miniature ;' but when Phil touched a spring and 
 the locket flew open, she beheld a beautiful 
 coloured photo of herself. 
 
 * Good Heavens!' she exclaimed, 'how came 
 you by this ?' 
 
 ' Hardinge had two in the barracks, and I 
 begged one from him.' 
 
 ' Hardinge — Harry Hardinge ! That was most 
 unfair of him,' said she, her agitation increasing; 
 ' he is one of our oldest friends.' 
 
 ' May I be permitted to keep it ?' 
 
 ' 0, no ; not there — not there, in a locket at 
 your neck.' 
 
 ' Be it so ; your slightest wish is law to me ; 
 but be assured. Miss Lloyd, the heart near which 
 it lies was never oflered to woman before.' 
 
 ' I can well believe you ; but — hush, here are 
 people coming !' 
 
 Sir Madoc and Lady Naseby entered the con-
 
 186 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 servatory somewhat hurriedly, followed by two or 
 three of the guests. 
 
 ' Lady Estelle ! Is Lady Estelle here ?' they 
 asked simultaneously. 
 
 ^ No,' replied Caradoc. 
 
 ' Nor Harry Hardinge ?' 
 
 ' We are quite alone, papa,' said Winifred, in 
 a voice the agitation of which, at another time, 
 must have been apparent to all ; for no woman 
 can hear a declaration of love or receive a proposal 
 quite unconcerned, especially from a handsome 
 young fellow who was so earnest as Philip Cara- 
 doc, around whom the coming departure for the 
 seat of war shed a halo of melancholy interest, 
 and who, by the artless production of the locket, 
 proved that he had loved her for some time past, 
 and secretly too. 
 
 ' What the deuce is the meaning of this ?' ex- 
 claimed Sir Madoc, with an expression of comic- 
 ality, annoyance, and alarm mingling in his face ; 
 ' the servants can nowhere find her !' 
 
 * Find who ?' asked Lord Pottersleigh, opening 
 his snuff-box as he shambled forward. 
 
 ' Why, Lady Estelle.'
 
 A PROPOSAL. 187 
 
 His lordship took a pinch, paused for the re- 
 freshing titillation of a sneeze, and then said, 
 
 * Indeed — surprising — very !' 
 
 ' And Hardinge is missing too, you say ?' said 
 Phil. ' How odd !' 
 
 ' Odd ! egad, I think it is odd ; they have not 
 been seen by any one for more than two hours, 
 and a regular storm has come on !' 
 
 Phil and Miss Lloyd had been too much occu- 
 pied, or they must have remarked the bellowing 
 of the wind without, and the sudden darkening of 
 the atmosphere. 
 
 * papa, papa !' exclaimed Dora, now rushing 
 in from the lawn, ' something dreadful must have • 
 happened. I left them on the verge of the cliffs ; 
 returning to look for the bracelet you gave me, I 
 met my partner, Mr. Clavell of the 19th ; we be- 
 gan dancing again, and I forgot all about them.' 
 
 ' On the cliffs!' exclaimed several voices repre- 
 hensibly and fearfully. 
 
 ' Yes,' continued Dora, beginning to weep ; * I 
 took them through the park wicket, and suggested 
 a visit to the Bod Mynach.' 
 
 * Suggested this to Estelle ! She is not, as we 
 are, used to such paths and places, and you tell us
 
 188 UNDEE THE RED DEAGON. 
 
 of it only now!' exclaimed Winifred, with an ex- 
 pression of reproach and anguish sparkling in her 
 eyes. 
 
 ' My God, an accident must have occurred ! The 
 wind — weather — compose yourself. Lady Nasehy ; 
 Gwyllim, ring the house-bell, and summon every 
 one,' cried Sir Madoc; ' not a moment is to be lost.' 
 
 ' 0, what is all this you tell me now, Dora ?' 
 exclaimed Winifred as she started from the conser- 
 vatory, with her lips parted, her dark eyes dilated, 
 and her hair put back by both her trembling hands. 
 
 Poor Phil Caradoc and his proposal were alike 
 forgotten now; and he began to fear that, like 
 Hugh Price of ours, in making love he had made 
 some confounded mistake. 
 
 Querulous, and useless so far as searching or 
 assisting went. Lord Pottersleigh nevertheless saw 
 the necessity of affecting to do something, as a 
 man, as a gentleman, and a very particular friend 
 of the Naseby family. Accoutred in warm muf- 
 flings by his valet, with a mackintosh, goloshes, 
 and umbrella, he left the house half an hour after 
 every one else, and pottered about the lawn, ex- 
 claiming from time to time, 
 
 * Such weather ! such a sky ! ugh, ugh ! what
 
 A PROPOSAL. 189 
 
 the devil can have happened?' till a violent fit of 
 coughing, caused by the keen breeze from the 
 sea, and certain monitory twinges of gout, com- 
 pelled him to return to his room and wait the 
 event there, making wry faces and sipping his 
 colchicum, while sturdy old Sir Madoc conducted 
 the search on horseback, galloping knee-deep 
 among fern, searching the vistas of the park, and 
 sending deer, rabbits, and hares scampering in 
 every direction before him. 
 
 Above the bellowing of the stormy wind, that 
 swept the freshly torn leaves like rain against the 
 walls and mullioned windows of the old house, or 
 down those long umbrageous vistas where ere long 
 the autumn spoil w^ould be lying thick, rose and fell 
 the clangour of the house-bell. Servants, grooms, 
 gamekeepers, and gardeners were dispatched to 
 search, chiefly in the wild vicinity of the now 
 empty Bod Mynach ; but no trace could be found 
 of Lady Estelle or her squire, save a white-laced 
 handkerchief, which, while a low cry of terror es- 
 caped her. Lady Naseby recognised as belonging 
 to her daughter. On it were a coronet and the 
 initials of her name. 
 
 It had been found by Phil Caradoc with the
 
 190 UNDEB THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 aid of a lantern, when searching along the weedy 
 rocks between the silent cavern and the seething 
 sea, which was now black with the gathered dark- 
 ness and a mist from the west. 
 
 There was no ball at Craigaderyn Court that 
 iright.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 
 
 In this world, events unthought of and unfore- 
 seen are always happening ; so, as I have hinted, 
 did it prove with me, on the epoch of Dora's 
 hirthday fete. 
 
 It was not without considerable difficulty and 
 care on my side, trepidation and much of annoy- 
 ance at Dora on that of Lady Estelle, mingled 
 with a display of courage which sprang from her 
 pride, that I conducted her by the hand down the 
 old and time-worn flight of narrow steps — which 
 had been hewn, ages ago, by some old Celtic her- 
 mit in the face of the cliff — till at last we stood 
 on the little plateau that lies between the mouth 
 of his abode and the sea, which was chafing and 
 surging there in green waves, that the wind was 
 cresting with snowy foam.
 
 192 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 On our right the headland receded away into 
 a wooded dell, that formed part of Craigaderyn 
 Park. There a little rhaidr or cascade came plash- 
 ing down a fissure in the limestone rocks, and fell 
 into a pool, where a pointed pleasure-hoat, named 
 the Winifred, was moored. On our left the head- 
 land, that towered some eighty feet above us, 
 formed part of the bluffs or sea-wall that stretched 
 away to the eastward, and, sheer as a rampart, 
 met the waves of the wide Irish Sea. 
 
 Before us opened the arched entrance of the 
 monk's abode — a little cavern or cell, that had 
 been hollowed by no mortal hand. Its echoes are 
 alleged to be wonderful ; and it has been of old 
 used as a hiding-place in times of war and trouble, 
 and by smugglers for storing goods, where the 
 knights of Craigaderyn could find them without 
 paying to the king's revenue. It has evidently 
 been what its name imports — the chapel and abode 
 of some forgotten recluse. A seat of stones goes 
 round the interior, save at the entrance. A stone 
 pillar or altar had stood in its centre. A font or 
 stone basin is there, and from it there flows a 
 spring of clear water, with which the follower of 
 St. David was wont to baptise the little savages of
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 193 
 
 Britannia Secunda; and where now, in a more 
 pleasant and prosaic age, it has supplied the tea 
 and coffee kettles of many a joyous party, who 
 came hither boating or fishing from Craigaderyn 
 Court; and above that stone basin the hermit's 
 hand has carved the somewhat unpronounceable 
 Welsh legend : 
 
 ' Heb Ddiiw, heb ddim.'* 
 
 * A wonderful old place ! But I have seen 
 caverns enough elsewhere, and this does not in- 
 terest me. I am no archaeologist,' said Lady 
 Estelle — 'besides, where is Dora?' she added, 
 looking somewhat blankly up the ladder of steps 
 in the cliff by which we were to return : and she 
 speedily became much less alive to the beauty of 
 the scenery than to a sense of danger and awkward- 
 ness in her position. 
 
 There was no appearance of Dora Lloyd, and 
 we heard no sound in that secluded place, save the 
 chafing of the surf, the equally monotonous pour- 
 ing of the waterfall, and the voices of the sea-birds 
 as they skimmed about us. , 
 
 '•' Without God, without everytliing. 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 UNDER THE BED DRAGON. 
 
 I thought that Lady Estelle leant upon my arm 
 a little heavier than usual, and remembered, that 
 when I took her hand in mine to guide her down, 
 she left it there firmly and confidingly. 
 
 ' May I show you the grotto?' said I ; and my 
 heart beat tumultuously while I looked in her 
 face, the rare beauty of which was now greatly en- 
 hanced by a flush, consequent on our descent and 
 the sea-breeze. 
 
 * no, no, thanks very much ; but let us re- 
 turn to the park ere we be missed. Give me your 
 hand, Mr. Hardinge. If we came down so quickly, 
 surely we may as quickly ascend again.' 
 
 * Shall I go first?' 
 
 ' Please, do. The caves of Fingal, or Ele- 
 phanta and Ellora to boot, were not worth this 
 danger.' 
 
 * I have come here many a time for a few sea- 
 birds' eggs,' said I, laughing, to reassure her. 
 
 But the ascent proved somehow beyond her 
 power. The wind had risen fast, and was sweep- 
 ing round the headland now, blowing her dress 
 about her ankles, and impeding her motions. She 
 had only ascended a little way when giddiness or 
 terror came over her. She lost all presence of
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 195 
 
 mind, and began to descend again. Thrice, witli 
 my assistance, she essayed to climb the winding 
 steps that led to the summit, and then desisted. 
 She was in tears at last. As all confidence had 
 deserted her, I proposed to bind her eyes with a 
 handkerchief; but she declined. I also ofi'ered, if 
 she would permit me to leave her for a few min- 
 utes, to reach the summit, and bring assistance ; 
 but she was too terrified to remain alone on the 
 plateau of rock, between the cell and the water. 
 
 * Good Heavens !' she exclaimed, when, like 
 myself, perhaps she thought of Lady Naseby, 
 * what shall I do ? And all this has been brought 
 about by the heedless suggestions of Dora Lloyd 
 — by her folly and impulsiveness ! Will she never 
 return to advise us T 
 
 Nearly half an hour had elapsed, and a dread 
 that she, that I — that both of us — must now be 
 missed, and the cause of surmise, roused an anger 
 and pride in her breast, that kindled her eye and 
 affected her manner, thus effectually crushing any 
 attempt to intrude my own secret thoughts upon 
 her. 
 
 * What arc we to do, Mr. Hardinge ? Here we 
 cannot stay ; I dare not climb ; not a boat is to be
 
 196 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 seen ; the sun lias almost set, and see, liow dense 
 a mist is coming on !' 
 
 I confess that I had not observed this before, so 
 much had I been occupied by her own presence, 
 by her beauty, and by entreating that she would 
 ^ screw her courage to the sticking-point,' and 
 ascend where I had seen the two pretty Lloyds 
 trip from step to step in their mere girlhood, to 
 the horror, certainly, of their French governess ; 
 but knowing that a fog from the sea was rolling 
 landward in dense masses, and that the evening 
 would be a stormy one, I felt intense anxiety for 
 Lady Estelle, and certainly left nothing unsaid to 
 reassure her, firmly yet delicately — for good breed- 
 ing becomes a second nature, and is not forgotten 
 even in times of dire emergency ; then how much 
 less so when we love, and love as I did Estelle 
 Cressingham ? — but all my arguments were in 
 vain. 
 
 There was in her dark eyes a wild and startled 
 brilliance, a hectic spot on each pale cheek. Her 
 innate pride remained, but her courage was gone. 
 She trembled, and her breath came short and 
 quick as she said, 
 
 * Who would have dreamt that I — I should
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 197 
 
 have acted thus ? More heedlessly even than 
 Dora, for she is a Welsh girl, and, like a goat, is 
 used to such places. And now there is no aid — 
 not even the smallest boat in sight !' 
 
 * Of what have I been thinking !' I exclaimed. 
 * The pleasure-boat which belongs to the grotto is 
 moored yonder in the creek, where some visitor, 
 who preferred the short cut up the cliff, has evi- 
 dently left it. If you will permit me to place you 
 in it, I can row across the mouth of the waterfall 
 to the other side, where a Chinese bridge will 
 enable us at once to reach the lawn.' 
 
 * Why did you not think of this before ?' she 
 asked, with something of angry reproach almost 
 flashing in her eyes. 
 
 ' Will you make the attempt ?' 
 
 ' Of course. 0, would that you had thought of 
 it before !' 
 
 ' Come, then, though the wind has risen cer- 
 tainly; and among so many guests, our absence 
 may have been unnoticed yet.' 
 
 I reached the boat — a gaudily painted shallop, 
 seated for four oars. There were but two, how- 
 ever; these were enough; but as ill-luck would 
 have it, she was moored to a ring-bolt in the rocks
 
 198 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 by a padlock and chain, wliicli I had neither the 
 strength nor the means of breaking. This was a 
 fresh source of delay, and Lady Estelle's whole 
 frame seemed to quiver and vibrate with impa- 
 tience, while every moment she raised her eyes to 
 the cliff, by which she expected succour or search- 
 ers to come. 
 
 What the deuce was she — were zue — to say to 
 all this ? With a girl possessed of more nerve 
 and firmness of mind this matter could never have 
 taken such a turn, and the delay had never 
 occurred. This malheur or mishap — this varia- 
 tion from the strict rules laid down by such 
 matrons as the Countess of Naseby — looked so 
 like a scheme, that I felt we were in a thorough 
 scrape, and knew there was not a moment to be 
 lost in making our appearance at the Court. 
 
 By a stone I smashed the padlock, and casting 
 loose the boat, brought it to where Lady Estelle 
 stood, beating the rock impatiently with her foot ; 
 and, handing her on board, seated her in the 
 stern-sheets, but with some difficulty, as the west 
 wind was rolling the waves with no small fury 
 now past the headland, in which the black Bod 
 Mynach gaped.
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 199 
 
 *Pull with all your strength, Mr. Hardinge. 
 Dear Mr. Hardinge, let us only be back in time, 
 and I shall ever thank you !' she exclaimed. 
 
 'All that man can do, I shall,' was my enthu- 
 siastic reply. 
 
 I could pull a good stroke-oar, and had done 
 so steadily in many a regimental and college boat- 
 race and regatta; but now there ensued what I 
 never could have calculated upon. Excited by the 
 desire of pleasing Lady Estelle by landing her on 
 the opposite side of the tiny bay with all speed — 
 desirous, when seated opposite to her, face to face, 
 of appearing to some advantage by an exliibition 
 of strength and skill — at each successive stroke, 
 as I shot the light boat seaward, I almost lifted 
 it out of the water. I had to clear a rock, over 
 which the water was foaming and gleaming in 
 green and gold amid the sinking sunshine, ere I 
 headed her due westward, and in doing so I cleared 
 also the headland, which rose like a tower of rock 
 from the sea, crowned by a clump of old elms, 
 wherein some rooks had taken up their quarters 
 in times long past. 
 
 ' 0, Mr. Hardinge,' said Lady Estelle, while 
 grasping the gunwale with both hands, and look-
 
 200 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ing up, *liow had I ever the courage to come down 
 such a place ? It looks fearful from this !' 
 
 Ere I could reply, the oar in my right hand 
 hroke in the iron rowlock with a crash. The wood 
 had been faulty. By this mishap I lost my bal- 
 ance, and was nearly thrown into the sea, as the 
 boat careered over on a wave. Thus the other was 
 torn from my grasp, and swept far beyond my 
 reach. 
 
 I was powerless now — powerless to aid either 
 her or myself. 
 
 The tide was ebbing fast. The strong w^est 
 wind, and the current running eastward, influenced 
 by the flow of the Clwyde, and even of the Dee, 
 ten miles distant, swept the now useless boat past 
 the abutting headland, and along the front of 
 those cliffs which rise like a wall of rock from the 
 sea, and where, as the mist gathered round us, 
 our fate would be unseen, whether we were dashed 
 against the iron shore, or swept out into the ocean. 
 
 The red sunset was fading fast on distant 
 Orme's Head, where myriads of sea-birds are ever 
 revolving, like gnats in the light amid its grand 
 and inaccessible crags. It was dying too, though 
 tipping them with flame, on Snowdon's peaks, the
 
 THE UNFORESEEN. 201 
 
 eyrie of the golden eagle and the peregrine falcon, 
 and on the smaller range of Carnej^dd Llewellyn. 
 Purple darkness was gathering in the grassy vales 
 between, and blue and denser grew those shadows 
 as the cold gray mist came on, and the sombre 
 glow of a stormy sunset passed away. 
 
 Soon the haze of the twilight blurred, softened, 
 and blended land and sea to the eastward. The 
 sharp edge of the new moon was rising from a 
 dark and trembling horizon, whence the mist was 
 coming faster and more fast, and the evening star, 
 pale Hesperus, shone like a tiny lamp amid the 
 opal tints of a sky that was turning fast to dun 
 and darkness. 
 
 The rolling mist soon hid the star and the 
 land too, and I only knew that we were drifting 
 helplessly away.
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 
 
 The absence of the boat from its mooring-place 
 was soon observed, and surmises were rife that 
 we must infallibly have gone seaward. 
 
 But why ? It seemed unaccountable — and at 
 such a time too ! The idea that Lady Estelle's 
 heart should fail her in attempting to return by 
 the cliff never occurred to any save Winifred, who 
 knew more of her friend's temperament than the 
 rest, and for a time, with others, the ardent and 
 courageous girl searched the shore, and several 
 boats were put forth into the mist ; but in vain, 
 and ere long the strength and violence of the wind 
 drove even Sir Madoc and all his startled guests 
 to the shelter of the house. 
 
 Muffled in silk cloaks and warm shawls or 
 otter-skin jackets, the ladies had lingered long on
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 203 
 
 the terraces, on the lawn and avenues, while the 
 lights of the searchers were visible, and while 
 their hallooing could he heard at times from the 
 rocks and ravines, where they swung their lan- 
 terns as signals, in hopes that the lost ones might 
 see them. 
 
 Lord Pottersleigh snuffed and ejaculated from 
 time to time, and ere long had betaken himself 
 to his room. Caradoc, Guilfoyle — who seemed 
 considerably bewildered by the affair — young Cla- 
 vell of the 19th, and other gentlemen, with Gwyl- 
 lim the butler, Morgan Roots the gardener, Bob 
 Spurrit, and the whole male staff of the household, 
 manfull}' continued their search by the shore. 
 
 There the scene was wild and impressive. 
 Before the violence of the bellowing wind, the 
 mist was giving place to the pall-like masses of 
 dark clouds, which rolled swiftly past the pale 
 face of the new moon, imparting a weird-like as- 
 pect to the rocky coast, against which the sea was 
 foaming in white and hurrying waves, while the 
 sea-birds, scared alike by the shouts and the 
 lights of the searchers, quite as much as by the 
 storm, screamed and wheeled in wild flights about 
 their eyries.
 
 204 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 Moments there were wlien Caradoc thought 
 the search was prosecuted in the wrong direction, 
 and that, as there had probably been an elope- 
 ment, this prowling along the seashore was 
 absurd. 
 
 * Can it be,' said he inaudibly, * that the little 
 boy who cried for the moon has made oif with it 
 bodily ? If so, this will be rather a "swell" affair 
 for the mess of the Eoyal Welsh.' 
 
 Slowly passed the time, and more anxious than 
 all the rest — Lady Naseby of course excepted — 
 the soft-hearted Winifred was full of dismay that 
 any catastrophe should occur to two guests at 
 Craigaderyn, and she listened like a startled fawn 
 to every passing sound. 
 
 Dora, as deeming herself the authoress of the 
 whole calamity, was completely crushed, and sat 
 on a low stool with her head bowed on Lady Nase- 
 by's knee, sobbing bitterly ever and anon, when 
 the storm-gusts howled among the trees of the 
 chase, shook the oriels of the old mansion, and 
 made the ivy leaves patter on the panes, or shud- 
 dering as she heard the knell-like ding-dong of 
 the house-bell occasionally. The masses of her 
 golden hair had been dishevelled by the wind
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 205 
 
 without ; but she forgot all about that, as well as 
 about her two solemn engagements made with Tom 
 Clavell for the morrow ; one, the mild excitement 
 of fishing for sticklebacks in the horse-pond, and 
 the other, a gallop to the Marine Parade of Llan- 
 dudno, attended by old Bob Spurrit ; for the little 
 sub of the 1st York North Eiding was, 2^^'(^ tern., 
 the bondsman of a girl who was at once charming 
 and childish, petulant and more than pretty. 
 
 Heavily and anxiously were passed the min- 
 utes, the quarters, and the hours. 
 
 Messenger after messenger to the searchers by 
 the shore went forth and returned. Their tidings 
 were all the same ; nothing had been seen or^ 
 heard of the boat, of Lady Estelle, or of her com- 
 panion. 
 
 Nine o'clock was struck by the great old clock 
 in the stable court, and then every one instinct- 
 ively looked at his or her watch. Half-past nine, 
 ten, and even midnight, struck, without tidings 
 of the lost. By that time the mist had cleared 
 away, the tide had turned, and the west wind was 
 rolling the incoming sea with mightier fury on 
 the rock-bound shore. 
 
 The first hours of the morning passed without
 
 206 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 intelligence, and alarm, dismay, and grief reigned 
 supreme among the pallid group at Craigaderyn 
 Court. All could but hope that with the coming 
 day a revelation might come for weal or woe ; and 
 as if to involve the disappearance of the missing 
 ones in greater mystery, if it did not point to a 
 terrible conclusion, the lost pleasure-boat was dis- 
 covered by a coastguardsman, high and dry, and 
 bottom up, on a strip of sandy beach, some miles 
 from Craigaderyn ; but of its supposed occupants 
 not a trace could be found, save a lace cuff, recog- 
 nised as Lady Estelle's, wedged or washed into 
 the framework of the little craft, thus linking her 
 fate with it. 
 
 Ours was indeed a perilous situation. We 
 w^ere helplessly adrift on a stormy sea, off a rock- 
 bound coast, in a tiny boat, liable to swamping at 
 any moment, without oars or covering, the wind 
 rising fast, while the darkness and the mist were 
 coming down together. 
 
 I had no words to express my anxiety for what 
 one so delicately nurtured as Estelle might suifer. 
 My annoyance at the surmises and wonder natur- 
 ally excited by our protracted absence ; quizzical, 
 it might be equivocal, inferences drawn from it —
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 207 
 
 I thought nothing of these. I was beyond all 
 such minor considerations, and felt only solicitude 
 for her safety, and a terror of what her fate might 
 be. All other ideas, even love itself — though 
 that very solicitude was born of love — were merged 
 for the time in the tenderest anxiety. 
 
 If her situation with me was perilous, what 
 had it been if with Lord Pottersleigh ? But had 
 she been with him, no such event as a descent to 
 that unlucky pleasure grotto could have been 
 thought of. Though pale and terrified, not a tear 
 escaped her now ; but her white and beautiful face 
 was turned, with a haggard aspect, to mine. 
 
 A life-buoy happened to be in the boat, aad 
 without a word I tied it to her securely. 
 
 * Is there not one for you ?' she asked piteously, 
 laying a hand on mine. 
 
 * Think not of me, Lady Estelle; if you are 
 saved, what care I for mj^self ?' 
 
 * You swim, then T 
 
 ' A little, a very little ; scarcely at all.' 
 
 * You are generous and noble, Mr. Hardinge ! 
 0, if kind God permits me to reach the land safely, 
 I shall never be guilty of an act of folly like this 
 again. Mamma says — poor mamma! — that it is
 
 208 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 birtli, or blood, whicli carries people through great 
 emergencies ; but who could have foreseen such a 
 calamitous contretemps as this ? And who could 
 have been a greater coward than I? I should 
 have made a steady attempt at yonder pitiful cliff; 
 to fail was most childish, and I have involved you 
 in this most fatal peril.' 
 
 She sobbed as she spoke, and her eyes were 
 full of light : but her lips were compressed, and 
 all her soft and aristocratic loveliness seemed for 
 a time to grow different in expression ; to gather 
 sternness, as a courage now possessed her, of which 
 she had seemed deficient before, or it might be an 
 obstinacy born of despair ; for the light boat was 
 swept hither and thither helplessly, by stem and 
 stern alternately, on each successive wave ; tossed 
 upward on the crest of one watery ridge, or sunk 
 downward between two that heaved up on each 
 side as if to ingulf us ; while the spoondrift, salt 
 and bitter, torn from their tops, flew over us, as 
 she clung with one hand to the gunwale of the 
 tiny craft, and with the other to me. 
 
 That we were not being drifted landward was 
 evident, for we could no longer hear the voices of 
 the sea-birds among the rocks ; and to be drifted
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 209 
 
 seaward by ebb tide or current was only another 
 phase of peril. The voice of Lady Estelle came 
 in painful gasps as she said, 
 
 * 0, Mr. Hardinge, Mr. Hardinge, we shall 
 perish most miserably ; we shall certainly be 
 drowned ! Mamma, my poor mamma, I shall 
 never see her more !' 
 
 Though striving to reassure her, I was, for a 
 time, completely bewildered by anxiety for what 
 she must suffer by a terror of the sudden fate that 
 might come upon her ; and I was haunted by 
 morbid visions of her, the brilliant Estelle, a 
 drowned and sodden corpse, the sport of the waves 
 — of myself I never thought — tossing unburied 
 
 • 
 
 in the deep, or, it might be, cast mutilated on the 
 shore ; and she looked so beautiful and helpless 
 as she clung to me now, clasping my right arm 
 with all her energy, her head half reclined upon 
 my shoulder, and the passing spray mingling with 
 her tears upon her cheek. ' The drowning man 
 is said to be confronted by a ghastly panorama of 
 his whole life.' It may be so generally ; but then 
 I had only the horror of losing Estelle, whom I 
 loved so tenderly. 
 
 We were now together and alone, so completely, 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 UNDER THE BED DEAGON. 
 
 suddenly, and terribly alone, it might be for life 
 or for death — the former short indeed, and the 
 latter swift and sudden, if the boat upset, or we 
 were washed out of it into the sea ; and yet in that 
 time of peril she possessed more than ever for me 
 that wondrous and undefinable charm and allure- 
 ment which every man finds in the woman he loves, 
 and in her only. 
 
 ' God spare us and help us !' she exclaimed ; 
 ' Mr. Hardinge, I am filled with unutterable fear ;' 
 and then she added, unconsciously quoting some 
 poet, *I find the thought of death, to one near 
 death, most dreadful !' 
 
 * With you, Estelle, love might make it indeed 
 a joy to die !' I exclaimed with a gush of enthu- 
 siasm and tenderness that, but for the terrible 
 situation, had been melodramatic. 
 
 ' I did not think that you loved me so,' said 
 she after a little pause ; and my arm now encircled 
 her w^aist, while something of an invocation to 
 heaven rose to my lips, and I repeated, 
 
 * Not think that I loved you ! Do not be co- 
 quettishly unwilling to admit what you must know, 
 that since that last happy night in London you 
 have never been absent from my thoughts ; and
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 211 
 
 here, Estelle, clear, dear Estelle, when menaced 
 by a grave amid these waters, I tell you that I 
 loved you from the first moment that I knew you! 
 Death stares us in the face, but tell me truly that 
 you — that you — ' 
 
 ' Love you in return ? I do, indeed, dear 
 Harry!' she sobbed, and then her beloved face, 
 chilled and damp with tears and spray, came close 
 to mine. 
 
 ' God bless you, my darling, for this avowal !' 
 said I in a thick voice, and even the terrors of our 
 position could not damp the glow of my joy. 
 
 In all my waking dreams of her had Estelle 
 seemed beautiful ; but never so much so as now, 
 when I seemed on the eve of losing her for ever, 
 and my own life too ; when each successive wave 
 that rolled in inky blackness towards us might 
 tear her from my clasp ! How easily under some 
 circumstances do we learn the language of passion ! 
 and now, while clasping her fast with one arm, as 
 with both of hers she clung to me, I pressed her 
 to my breast, and told her again and again how 
 fondly I loved her, while — as it were in a dream, 
 a portion of a nightmare — our boat, now filling 
 fast v/ith water, was tossed madly to and fro.
 
 212 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 And like a dream too, it seemed, tlie fact that 
 I had her all to myself — for life or death, as it 
 were — this hrilliant creature so loved by many, so 
 prized by all, and hitherto apparently so unattain- 
 able ; she who, by a look, a glance, a smile, by a 
 flirt of her fan, by the dropping of a glove or the 
 gift of a flower, selected with point from her bou- 
 quet, had held my soul in thrall by all the de- 
 licious trifles that make up the sum and glory of 
 love to the lover who is young. And where were 
 we now ? 
 
 Alone on the dark, and erelong it was the mid- 
 night, sea ! Alone, and with me ; I who had so 
 long eyed her lovingly and longingly, even as 
 Schon Rohtrant, the German king's daughter, was 
 gazed at and loved by the handsome page, who 
 dared not to touch or kiss her till he gathered 
 courage one day, as the ballad tells us, when they 
 were under a shady old oak. 
 
 'If God spares us to see her,' said Lady Es- 
 telle, ' what will mamma think of this terrible 
 fiasco of ours ?' 
 
 While Estelle loved me, I felt that I did not 
 care very much for the dowager's views of the 
 matter, especially at that precise moment. When
 
 WHAT THE MOON SA.W. 213 
 
 on terra firma tliere would be sufficient time to 
 consider tliem. 
 
 * And you are mine, darling ?' said I tenderly. 
 
 * I am yours, Harry, and yours only.' 
 
 * Never shall I weary of hearing this admission ; 
 but the rumour of an engagement to Lord Potters- 
 leigh r 
 
 ' Absurd ! It has grown out of his dangling 
 after me and mamma's wish, as I won't have my 
 cousin Naseby.' 
 
 ' And you do not hold yourself engaged — ' 
 ' Save to you, Harry, and you alone.' 
 And as her head again sank upon my shoulder, 
 her pride and my doubts fled together ; but now a 
 half-stifled shriek escaped her, as the frail boat 
 was nearly overturned by a larger wave than usual, 
 which struck it on the counter. 
 
 We were drenched and chilled, so ours was in- 
 deed love-making under difficulties ; and the time, 
 even with her reclining in my arms, passed slowly. 
 How many a prayer and invocation, all too deep 
 for utterance, rose to my lips for her ! The hours 
 drew on. Would day never dawn ? With all the 
 sweet but now terrible companionship of love — for
 
 214 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 it was love combined with gloomy danger — tliis 
 was our utmost craving. 
 
 The new moon, as she rose pale and sharp, 
 like a silver siclde, from the Irish Sea, when the 
 fog began to disperse, tipped for a little time with 
 light the wave-tops as they rose or sank around 
 us; but clouds soon enveloped her again; and 
 when the tide turned, the sea ran inward, and 
 broke wildly on the tremendous headlands of the 
 coast. That our boat was not swamped seemed 
 miraculous ; but it was very buoyant, being en- 
 tirely lined with cork, and had air-tight compart- 
 ments under the seats. 
 
 A gray streak at the far horizon had spread 
 across a gap of pale green, announcing that the 
 short August night was past, and rapidly it broad- 
 ened and brightened into day, while crimson and 
 gold began to tip the wave-tops with a fiery hue, 
 the whole ocean seeming to be mottled, as it were ; 
 and I could see the coast-line, as we were not 
 quite a mile from it. In the distance were plainly 
 visible the little town of Abergele, and those hills 
 where Castell Cawr and the Cefn Ogo are, tinged 
 with pink, as they rose above the white vapour 
 that rolled along the shore.
 
 WHAT THE MOON SAW. 215 
 
 The more distant mountain ranges seemed 
 blue and purple against a sky where clouds of 
 pearly-pink were floating. 
 
 Estelle was exhausted now. 
 
 Her pallor added to my misery. So many 
 hours of pitiless exposure had proved too much 
 for her strength, and with her eyes closed she lay 
 helpless in my arms, while wave after wave was 
 now impelling us shoreward, and, most happily it 
 would seem, towards a point where the rocks 
 opened and the water shoaled. 
 
 One enormous breaker, white-crested and over- 
 arching, came rolling upon us. A gasp, a mutual 
 cry to heaven, half-stifled by the bitter spray, and 
 then the mighty volume of it ingulfed us and our 
 boat. We had a momentary sense of darkness 
 and blindness, a sound as of booming thunder 
 mingled with the clangour of bells in our ears, 
 and something of the feeling of being swept by an 
 express train through a tunnel filled with water, 
 for we were fairly under the latter ; but I clung to 
 the boat with one hand and arm, while the other 
 went round Estelle with a death-like embrace, 
 that prevented her from being swept or torn from 
 me.
 
 216 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 For some moments I knew not whether we 
 were on the land or in the sea; but, though 
 stunned by the shock, I acted mechanically. Then 
 I remember becoming conscious of rising through 
 the pale-green water, of inhaling a long breath, a 
 gasping respiration, and of seeing the sunshine on 
 the waves. 
 
 Another shock came, and we were flung on the 
 flat or sloping beach, to be there left by the reced- 
 ing sea. Instead of in that place, had we been 
 dashed against the impending rocks elsewhere, all 
 had then been over with us. 
 
 I still felt that my right arm was clasped 
 around Estelle; but she was motionless, breath- 
 less, and still ; and though a terror that she was 
 dead oppressed me, a torpor that I could not resist 
 spread over all my faculties, and I sank into a 
 state of perfect unconsciousness.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 
 
 In making a circuit of liis farm on the morning 
 after the storm, Farmer Ehuddlan, while travers- 
 ing a field that was bounded by a strip of the sea- 
 shore, on which the ebbing surf still rolled heavily, 
 was very much scared to find lying there, and to 
 all appearance but recently cast up from the ocean, 
 among starfish, weed, and wreck, an officer in full 
 dress, and a lady (in what had been an elegant 
 demi-toilette of blue silk and fine lace) fair, and 
 most delicately white, but drenched, sodden, and 
 to all appearance, as he thought, ^ dearanwyl — 
 drowned' — as she was quite motionless, with her 
 beautiful dark hair all dishevelled and matted 
 among the sand. 
 
 He knew me — in fact, he had known me since
 
 218 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 boyhood, having caught me many a time in his 
 orchard at Craig Eryri — and thought he recog- 
 nised the lady. Moreover, he had heard of the 
 search overnight, and lost no time in spurring his 
 fat little cob in quest of succour. Some wonder- 
 ing rustics promptly came from a neighbouring 
 barnyard, and by the time they arrived, Estelle 
 and I had recovered consciousness, and struggled 
 into a sitting position on some stones close by, 
 whence we were beginning to look about us. 
 
 A benumbed sensation and total lack of power 
 in my right arm warned me that an accident had 
 occurred, and I endeavoured to conceal the cir- 
 cumstance from Estelle, but in vain ; for when 
 murmuring some thanks to God for our preserva- 
 tion, she suddenly lifted her face from my breast, 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 * You cannot move this arm ! You have been 
 hurt, darling ! Tell me about it — speak !' 
 
 'I think it is broken, Estelle,' said I, with a 
 smile ; for while I felt something almost of plea- 
 sure in the conviction that I had undergone this 
 in saving her, thereby giving me a greater title to 
 her interest and sympathy, I could not forget my 
 short leave from Winchester, the war at hand, the
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 219 
 
 regiment already abroad, and the active duties that 
 were expected of me. 
 
 * Broken ?' she repeated in a faint voice. 
 
 * My sword-arm — on the eve of marching for 
 foreign service. Awkward, isn't it ?' 
 
 * Awkward ! Harry, it is horrible ! And all 
 this has occurred through me and my childish 
 folly!' 
 
 ' One arm is at your service, dearest, still,' 
 said I, while placing it round her, and assisting 
 her to rise, as the kind old farmer returned with 
 his people, joyful to find that we were living, after 
 all, and that by assisting us he might in some de- 
 gree repay Sir Madoc Lloyd a portion of that deb| 
 of gratitude which he owed to him. 
 
 After dispatching a mounted messenger to 
 Craigaderyn with tidings of our safety, he had us 
 at once conveyed to his farm-house at Craig Eryri, 
 where dry clothing was given us, and a doctor 
 summoned to attend me. 
 
 ' You knew that we were missing — lost ?' said I. 
 
 ' Too well, sir,' replied the farmer, as he pro- 
 duced a brandy-bottle from an ancient oak cup- 
 board. ' With all my lads I assisted in the search,' 
 he continued in Welsh, as he could scarcely speak
 
 220 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 a word of English. ' A gentleman came here over 
 night with a groom, both mounted, to spread the 
 news of you and a lady having been lost some- 
 where below the Bod Mynach.' 
 
 *A gentleman mounted — Mr. Caradoc, per- 
 haps ?' 
 
 ' Caradoc is one of ourselves,' said the farmer, 
 his keen eyes twinkling ; 'this one was a Sassen- 
 ach — he Sir Madoc gave that lovely ring to, with 
 a diamond as big as a horsebean, for winning a 
 race at Chester.' 
 
 '0, Mr. Guilfoyle.' 
 
 * Yes, sir, that is his name, I believe,' replied 
 Ehuddlan ; and despite the gnawing agony of my 
 arm I laughed outright, for the quondam German 
 attache would seem to have actually found time to 
 relate something new about his brilliant to the sim- 
 ple old farmer, and while the fate of Lady Estelle 
 was yet a mystery. As for mine, I shrewdly sus- 
 pected he cared little about that. 
 
 Attired by the farmer's wife in the best cloth- 
 ing with which she could provide her, Lady Es- 
 telle, pale, wan, and exhausted, was seated near a 
 fire to restore warmth to her chilled frame, while 
 I retired with the medical man, who found my un-
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 221 
 
 lucky arm broken above the elbow ; fortunately, 
 the fracture was simple, and in no way a com- 
 pound one. The bones were speedily set, splinted, 
 and bandaged ; and clad in a suit provided for me 
 by Farmer Khuddlan — to wit, a pair of corduroy 
 knee-breeches, a deeply flapped double-breasted 
 w^aistcoat, which, from its pattern, seemed to have 
 been cut from a chintz bed-cover, so gorgeous were 
 the»roses and tulips it displayed, a large loose coat 
 of coarse gray Welsh frieze, with horn buttons 
 larger than crown pieces, each garment * a world 
 too wide' — I presented a figure so absurd and novel 
 that Estelle, in spite of all the misery and danger 
 we had undergone, laughed merrily as she held out 
 to me in welcome a hand of marvellous form and 
 whiteness, the hand that was to be mine in the 
 time to come; and I seated myself by her side, 
 while the farmer and his wife bustled about, pre- 
 paring for the certain arrival of Sir Madoc and 
 others from the Court. 
 
 ^ How odd it seems !' said Estelle, in a low 
 voice, and after a long pause, as she lay back in the 
 farmer's black-leather elbow chair, where his wife 
 had kindly placed and pillowed her ; and while she 
 spoke, her eyes were half closed and her lips were
 
 222 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 wreathed with smiles; 'engaged to he married — and 
 to you, Harry ! I can scarcely realise it. Is this 
 the end of all our hall-room flirtations, our Park 
 drives, and gallops in the Eow ?' 
 
 * Nay, not the end of any ; hut a continuance 
 of them all, I hope.' 
 
 * Scarcely ; people don't flirt after marriage — 
 together, at least. But it will he the end of all 
 mamma's grand schemes for me. She always 
 hoped I should twine strawberry leaves with my 
 marriage wreath. Heavens, how nearly I was having 
 a wreath of seaweed !' she added with a shudder 
 and a little gasping laugh as I kissed her hand. 
 ' 0, my poor Harry, with an arm hroken, and by 
 my means ! I shall never forgive myself — never.' 
 
 * Better an arm than if my heart had heen 
 hroken by your means, Estelle,' said I in a low 
 voice. After a little she said calmly and in an 
 earnest tone, while her colour came and went more 
 than once, 
 
 * We must he secret, secret as we are sincere ; 
 and yet such a system is repugnant to me, and to 
 my pride of heart.' 
 
 * Secret, Estelle !' (How delicious to call her 
 simply Estelle !) * Why ?'
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 223 
 
 * It is most necessary — yet awhile, at least.' 
 ' Your mamma's objections ?' 
 
 * More than that.' 
 
 * What — more ?' 
 
 ' By papa's will mamma has entire control over 
 all her fortune and mine too, and should I marry 
 without her full approbation and consent, she may 
 bequeath both if she pleases to my cousin Naseby, 
 leaving but a pittance to me.' 
 
 * But what will not one undergo for love ?' said 
 I, gazing tenderly into her eyes. 
 
 She smiled sadly, but made no response ; per- 
 haps she thought of what love might have of lux- 
 ury on a subaltern's pay and his * expectations.' 
 
 * Fear not, Estelle,' said I, ' for your sake our 
 engagement shall be a secret one.' 
 
 All my doubts and fears had already given 
 place to the confidence of avowed and reciprocated 
 affection, and in the security of that I was blindly 
 happy. How my heart had been wont to throb 
 when I used mentally to imagine the last inter- 
 view I should have with her ere going forth to the 
 East, with the story of my love untold ; leaving 
 her in ignorance, or partially so, of the sweet but 
 subtle link that bound my existence to hers !
 
 224 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Noic, the love was told ; the link had become a 
 tie, and pain of the anticipated parting became all 
 the more keen apparently, and I prospectively 
 reckoned one by one the weeks, the days, yea, al- 
 most the hours I might yet spend in the society of 
 Estelle. 
 
 I was not much given to day-dreams or illu- 
 sions, but, I asked of myself, was not all this most 
 strange if I was not dreaming now ? Could it be 
 that, within a few hours — a time so short — Estelle 
 and I had braved such peril together, and that I 
 had achieved her plight, her troth ; the promise of 
 her hand ; the acknowledgment of her love, and 
 that all was fulfilled ; the coveted and dearest ob- 
 ject of my secret thoughts and tenderest wishes! 
 
 Whether our engagement was secret or not 
 mattered little to me now. Assured of her regard, 
 I felt in her presence and society all that calm de- 
 light and sense of repose which were so pleasing 
 after my late tumult of anxiety, pique, jealousy, 
 and uncertainty. 
 
 By chance or some intuition the farmer and his 
 wife left us for a time alone, while waiting the ar- 
 rival of our friends ; and never while life lasts shall 
 I forget the joy of that calm morning spent alone
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 225 
 
 with Estelle in Rhuddlan's quaint little drawing- 
 room, the windows of which faced the green Den- 
 bigh hills, on which the warm August sun shone 
 cheerily ; and often did the memory of it come 
 back to me when I was far away, when I was 
 shivering amid the misery of the half-frozen 
 trenches before Sebastopol, or relieving the out 
 pickets, when Inkermann lights were waxing pale 
 and dim as dawn stole over those snow-clad wastes, 
 where so thick lay the graves of men and horses, 
 while the eternal boom and flash went on without 
 ceasinff from the Russian bastions and the allied 
 batteries. 
 
 I felt as if I had gained life anew, and with it 
 Estelle Cressingham. Great, indeed, was the re- 
 vulsion of feeling after such peril undergone ; after 
 a night of such horror and suffering, to sit by her 
 side, to hang over her, inspired to the full by that 
 emotion of tenderness and rapture which no man 
 can feel but once in life, when the first woman he 
 has really loved admits that he has not done so in 
 vain. 
 
 I placed on her finger — the engaged finger — 
 an emerald-and-diamond ring that I valued highly, 
 as it had once been my mother's, and in its place 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 took one of liers, a single pearl set in blue-and- 
 gold enamel. 
 
 The once proud beauty seemed so humble, gen- 
 tle, and loving now, as she reclined with her head 
 on my shoulder, and looked at me from time to 
 time with a sweet quiet smile in the soft depths of 
 her dark eyes. I forgot that she was an earl's 
 daughter, with a noble dowry and an ambitious 
 mother, and that I was but a sub of the Royal 
 Welsh, with little more than his pay. I forgot that 
 the route for Yarna hung over my head like the 
 sword of Damocles ; that a separation, certain and 
 inevitable, was hourly drawing closer and closer, 
 though the accident which had occurred might 
 protract it a little now. 
 
 Estelle Cressingham was a grand creature, 
 certainly. She naturally seemed to adopt statu- 
 esque positions, and thus every movement, how- 
 ever careless and unstudied, was full of artistic 
 grace. Even the misshapen garments of Mrs. 
 Evan Rhuddlan could not quite disfigure her. The 
 turn of her head was stately, and at times her 
 glance, quick and flashing, had a pride in it that 
 she was quite unconscious of. She was, aS' Cara- 
 doc had said, ' decidedly a splendid woman —
 
 THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT. 227 
 
 young lady, rather — but of the magnificent order.' 
 But there were tender and womanly touches, a 
 gentler nature, in the character of Estelle, that 
 lay under the artificial strata of that cumbrous 
 society in which she had been reared. She had 
 many pets at home in London and at Walcot 
 Park — birds and dogs, which she fed with her 
 own hands, and little children, who were her pen- 
 sioners ; and if her nose seemed a proud one, 
 with an aristocratic curve of nostril, her short up- 
 per lip would quiver occasionally when she heard 
 a tale of sorrow or cruelty. 
 
 And now, from our mutual daydream, we were 
 roused by the sound of wheels, of hoofs, and- 
 several voices, as some of our friends from the 
 Court arrived.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 
 
 To expatiate upon the joy of all when we found 
 ourselves safe in Craigaderyn Court again were a 
 needless task. 
 
 Lady Estelle was conveyed at once to her own 
 room, and placed in charge of Mademoiselle Pom- 
 pon. For two entire days I saw nothing of her, 
 and could hut hover on the terrace which her win- 
 dows overlooked, in the hope of seeing her ; but 
 the same doctor who came daily to dress my arm 
 had to attend her, as she was weak, feverish, and 
 rather hysterical after all she had undergone; 
 while I, with my broken limb, found myself some- 
 what of a hero in our little circle. 
 
 * This adventure of yours will make the Bod 
 Mynach the eighth wonder of Wales, if it gets 
 into print,' said Sir Madoc.
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 229 
 
 This cliance was Lady Naseby's fear. She 
 was ' full of annoyance and perplexity/ as she 
 said, ' lest some of those busybodies who write for 
 the ephemeral columns of the daily press should 
 hear of the affair, and ventilate it in some manner 
 that was garbled, sensational, and, what was worse 
 than either, unpunishable.' 
 
 She thanked me with great courtesy, but with- 
 out cordiality, for having saved her daughter's life 
 at the expense of a broken limb, as it was by sheer 
 strength that I prevented Estelle being torn from 
 the boat and me. Her ladyship, however, soon 
 dismissed the subject, and now Tiny, the snappish 
 white shock which for some hours had been for» 
 gotten and shamefully neglected, came in for as 
 many caresses as her daughter, if not more. 
 
 Anxious, for many obvious reasons, to gain 
 the esteem of this cold and unapproachable dow- 
 ager — even to love her, for her daughter's sake, 
 most unlovable though she was — I was ever as- 
 siduous in my attentions ; and these seemed to 
 excite quietly the ridicule of Winifred Lloyd, 
 while Dora said that she believed Lady Estelle 
 must have quarrelled with me, and that I had 
 transferred my affections to her mamma.
 
 230 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 But little Dora saw and knew more than I 
 supposed. On the second day after the affair, 
 when she came with her light tripping step down 
 the perron of the mansion, and joined me on the 
 terrace, where I was idling with a cigar, I said, 
 
 ' By the bye, why did you leave us, Dora, in 
 that remarkable manner, and not return ?' 
 
 * Mr. Clavell overtook me, and insisted upon 
 my keeping an engagement to him. Moreover,' 
 she added waggishly, ' under my music-master I 
 have learned, that many a delightful duet becomes 
 most discordant when attempted as a trio.' 
 
 * And for that reason you left us ?' 
 
 * Precisely,' replied the lively girl, as she re- 
 moved her hat, and permitted the wealth of her 
 golden hair to float out on the wind. ' Save for 
 your poor arm being broken, and the terrible risks 
 you ran, I might laugh at the whole affair ; for it 
 was quite romantic — like something out of a play 
 or novel ; but it quite put an end to the ball.' 
 
 ' And now that Tom Clavell has gone back to 
 his depot at Chester, you can scarcely forgive me ?' 
 
 *I saw that you were dying to be alone with 
 Lady Estelle,' she retorted, * and noiv don't you 
 thank me ?'
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 231 
 
 I certainly felt a gratitude I did not express, 
 but doubted whether her elder sister would have 
 approved of Dora's complicity in the matter ; and 
 affecting to misunderstand her, I said, 
 
 ' Why thank you now ?' 
 
 ' Because,' said Dora, looking at me, with her 
 blue eyes half closed, ' if on the top of a mountain 
 an acquaintance ripens fast, good heavens, how 
 must it have been with you two at the bottom of 
 the sea !' 
 
 And she laughed merrily at her own conceit, 
 while swinging her hat to and fro by its ribbons. 
 
 Lord Pottersleigh shook his head as if he dis- 
 liked the whole affair, and nervously scanned the 
 daily papers with spectacles on his thin aquiline 
 nose, in expectation of seeing some absurd, perhaps 
 impertinent, paragraph about it ; and such was the 
 old man's aristocratic vanity, that I verily believe, 
 had he seen such, he would there and then have 
 relinquished all his expectations — for he undoubt- 
 edly had them — of making Estelle Lady Potters- 
 leigh, and the partner of his higher honours that 
 were to come. 
 
 * Lady Naseby owes you a debt of gratitude, 
 Mr. Hardinge, for saving the life of her daughter
 
 2B2 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 — and I too,' he added, ' owe you an everlasting 
 debt of gratitude.' 
 
 ' You, my lord ?' said I, turning round in the 
 library, where we happened to be alone. 
 
 * Yes ; for in saving her you saved one in 
 whom I have the deepest interest. So, my dear 
 Mr. Hardinge,' he continued pompously, looking 
 up from the Times, ' if I can do aught for you at 
 the Horse Guards, command me, my young friend, 
 command me.' 
 
 ' Thanks, my lord,' said I curtly; for his tone 
 of patronage, and the cause thereof, were distaste- 
 ful to me. 
 
 ' You have of course heard the rumour of — of 
 an engagement ?' 
 
 ' With Lady Estelle Cressingham ?' 
 
 ' Exactly,' said he, laughing till he brought on 
 a fit of coughing — ' exactly — ha, ha — ugh, ugh ! 
 How the deuce these things ooze out at clubs and 
 in society, I cannot conceive ; for even the world 
 of London seems like a village in that way. Ah, 
 nowhere out of our aristocracy could a man find 
 such a wife as Lady Estelle !' 
 
 ' I quite agree with you ; but there is a point 
 beyond that.'
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 233 
 
 ' Indeed ! what may that be ?' 
 
 * To get her !' said I defiantly, enraged by the 
 old man's cool presumption. 
 
 Was this reference to *a rumour' merely his 
 senile vanity, or had Estelle ignored something 
 that really existed ? 
 
 Caradoc's congratulations, though I carefully 
 kept my own counsel, were as warm in reality as 
 those of Guilfoyle were in pretence. 
 
 * "Wish you every joy,' said the latter in a low 
 tone, as we met in the billiard-room, where he was 
 practising strokes with Sir Madoc. 
 
 ' I don't quite understand.' 
 
 ' You hold the winning-cards now, I think,4 
 said he, with a cold glare in his eye. 
 
 ' Sir ?' 
 
 ' I congratulate you on escaping so many 
 perils with the Lady Estelle, and being thereby a 
 winner.' 
 
 I had just left Pottersleigh, and was not dis- 
 posed to endure much from Guilfoyle. 
 
 ' The winner of what ?' I asked. 
 
 ' The future esteem of the Countess,' he 
 sneered. 
 
 * Perhaps she will present me with a diamond
 
 234 UNDER THE RED DEAGON. 
 
 ring on the liead of it/ said I, turning on my heel, 
 while Sir Madoc laughed at the hit ; but whatever 
 he felt, Guilfoyle cloaked it pretty well by laugh- 
 ing, and, as a Parthian shot, quoting, with some 
 point, and with unruffled exterior, a line or two 
 from the fourth book of the jEneid, concerning the 
 storm which drew Dido and her hero into the cave. 
 The bearing of Winifred Lloyd now became 
 somewhat of a riddle to me ; and on the morning 
 of the third day, when we all met at the breakfast 
 table (which was littered by cards and notes of 
 congratulation), and when Lady Estelle appeared, 
 looking so pale and beautiful, declining Made- 
 moiselle Babette's cosmetics and pearl-powder 
 alike, in the loveliest morning-dress that Swan 
 and Edgar could produce, I was conscious that 
 she watched us with an interest that seemed wist- 
 ful, tearful, and earnest. Whether I had a tell- 
 tale face, I knoT7 not. Nothing, however, could 
 be gathered from that of Estelle, or her mode of 
 greeting me and inquiring about the progress of 
 my broken arm towards recovery. My ring was 
 on her finger ; but as she wore several, it passed 
 unnoticed, and even Dora's quick eye failed to 
 detect it.
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 235 
 
 Winifred had become very taciturn ; and when 
 I asked her to drive with me in the open carriage — 
 as for a time I could not ride — she declined rather 
 curtly, and with something of petulance, even dis- 
 dain, in her tone. She never had the usual in- 
 quiries made by others concerning my fracture, 
 nor joined with Dora in the playful rivalry of 
 the ladies cutting for me, if no servant was near ; 
 for at table I was of course helpless. She smiled 
 seldom, but laughed frequently ; and yet it struck 
 me there was something unwonted in the ring of 
 her laughter, as if it came not from her heart. 
 
 The girl had a secret sorrow evidently. Was 
 Master Phil Caradoc at the bottom of this ? if 
 not, who then ? I watched her from time to time, 
 and observed that once, when our eyes met, she 
 seemed confused, and coloured perceptibly. 
 
 * Surely,' thought I, * she is not resenting my 
 half-flirtation with her the other day, when we 
 visited her pet goat !' 
 
 She was restless, absent, listlessly indifferent, 
 and occasionally preoccupied in manner; and in 
 vain did I say to her more than once, 
 
 * Miss Lloyd — Winifred — what troubles you ? 
 what has vexed you ?'
 
 236 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 * Nothing troubles me, Mr. Hardinge.' 
 
 'Well, then, Harry — and nothing vexes me. 
 What leads you to think so ?' 
 
 Her full-fringed dark eyes looked clearly into 
 mine ; they seemed moist, yet defiant, and she 
 tossed her pretty little head wilfully and petulantly. 
 I felt that I had in some way displeased her ; but 
 dared not press the matter, for, with all her soft- 
 ness of heart, she had a little Welsh temper of her 
 own. 
 
 Phil Caradoc gave me his entire confidence, 
 especially after dinner, when men become full of 
 talk, and inspired by bland and generous impulses. 
 He related, without reserve, the whole episode that 
 occurred in the conservatory ; and I felt some 
 compunction or annoyance that circumstances pre- 
 vented me from having the same frankness with 
 him, for none would have rejoiced in my success 
 more warmly than he. 
 
 * For the life of me, Harry, I can't make out 
 what Miss Lloyd means,' said Phil, in a low voice, 
 as he made his Cliquot efi'ervesce, by stirring it 
 with a macaroon ; ' she was ready enough to love 
 me as a friend, and all that sort of thing.'
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 237 
 
 * You have asked her, then ?' 
 
 ' Pointedly — hardly know what I said, though 
 — one feels so deuced queer when making love — 
 in earnest, I mean.' 
 
 * A man can do no more than ask.' 
 
 * Except asking again ; but tell me, old fellow, 
 have I a chance ?' 
 
 * How should I know, Phil ? But I think that 
 the pattern sub of the Royal Welsh Fusileers, made 
 up, like Don Juan, 
 
 " By love, by 5'Oiith, and by an anny tailor,'' 
 
 should have a particularly good chance.' 
 
 * You can afford to laugh at me, Harry.' 
 
 * Far from it, Phil ; I haven't such a thought, 
 believe me.' 
 
 * Seeing how friendly you are with these girls 
 — with her especially — I thought you might know 
 this. Is any other fellow spooney upon Miss 
 Lloyd ?' 
 
 ' A good many may well be ; she is lovely.' 
 
 * Well, does any one stand in her good 
 graces ?' 
 
 * Can't say, indeed, Caradoc,' said I, as my 
 thoughts reverted to that episode at the goat's-
 
 238 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 house, and others not dissimilar, with some emo- 
 tions of compunction, as I looked into Phil's 
 honest brown eyes. 
 
 He fancied that Winifred avoided him. In that 
 idea he erred. She admired and loved him as a 
 friend — a gentleman who had done her great 
 honour; but she never thought of analysing his 
 emotions farther than to wish him well, and to 
 wish him away from Craigaderyn, after that scene 
 in the conservatory ; and remembering it in all its 
 points, she was careful not to trust herself alone 
 with him, lest the subject might be renewed ; and 
 yet she found the necessity of approaching it one 
 day, when a sudden recollection struck her, as 
 they were riding home together, and had cantered 
 a little way in advance of their party. 
 
 ' Now that I think of it, Mr. Caradoc,' said 
 she, 'you must give me that likeness which you 
 wear. I really cannot permit you to keep it, even 
 in jest.' 
 
 * Jest !' repeated Phil, sadly and reproachfully ; 
 * do you think so meanly of me, as to imagine that 
 I would jest with you, or with it ?' 
 
 * But I can see no reason why you should re- 
 tain it.'
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 239 
 
 * Perhaps there is none — and yet, there is. It 
 is the face of one I shall never, never forget ; and 
 it is a memento of happy days spent with you — a 
 memento that other eyes than mine shall never 
 look upon.' 
 
 * Do not speak thus, Mr. Caradoc, I implore 
 you !' said Winifred, looking down on her horse's 
 mane. 
 
 ' You will permit me to keep it ?' 
 
 * For a time,' said she, trying to smile, but her 
 lips quivered. 
 
 ' Thank you, dear Winifred.' 
 
 * If shown to none.' 
 
 ' While I live none shall see it ; and if I die ii^ 
 action — as many shall surely do, and why not I as 
 well as happier fellows ? — it will be heard of no 
 more !' 
 
 Caradoc's voice became quite tremulous, either 
 because of Miss Lloyd's obduracy, or that he felt, 
 as many people do, rather pathetic at the thought 
 of his own demise. He had already possessed him- 
 self of her whip-hand, when her horse began to 
 rear, and in a minute more they were in the lime 
 avenue ; and this proved the last opportunity he 
 had of reasoning with her on the subject that was
 
 240 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 nearest his heart. He now wished that he had 
 never met Winifred Lloyd, or that, having met, 
 and learned to love her — oddly enough, when his 
 passion was not returned — he could be what her 
 ideal was. ' In what,' thought he, * am I wanting ? 
 Am I too rough, too soldierly, too blunt, unwin- 
 ning, or what ?' It was none of these ; for Cara- 
 doc was a well-mannered, courteous, gentle, and 
 pleasing young fellow, and by women unanimously 
 deemed handsome and distingue. All that day he 
 was unusually cast down and taciturn, though 
 he strove to take an interest in the conversa- 
 tion around him. 
 
 'By Jove, Hardinge,' said he, 'I wish you had 
 never brought me here, to renew the hopes I had 
 begun to entertain in London.' 
 
 ' Don't lose heart yet, Phil,' said I. 
 
 'But I have to leave for the seat of war — 
 leave her to the chance of being loved by others, 
 without even a promise — ' 
 
 ' To what troubles we are exposed in life !' said 
 I sententious^, and feeling perhaps selfishly se- 
 cure in my own affair. 
 
 ' Greater troubles perhaps in death,' added Phil 
 gloomily, as he gnawed his moustache. ' I some-
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED IT. 241 
 
 times wonder whether man was made for the world, 
 or the world was made for man.' 
 
 ' In what respect ?' said I, surprised by the train 
 of thought so unusual in him. 
 
 ' Look at a newly-born infant, and you will find 
 it difficult to determine. " He begins his life," as 
 Pliny says, " in punishment, and only for being 
 born.'" 
 
 ' Come, Phil,' said I, * don't get into the blues ; 
 and as for Pliny, I left him with Euclid, Straith's 
 Fortification, and gunnery, at Sandhurst.' 
 
 The morning mail brought letters from the 
 depot-adjutant to Phil and me. Their official as- 
 pect, as Owen Gwyllim laid them on the breakfast 
 table, attracted the attention of all. The eyes of 
 Winifred were on me, and mine turned instinc- 
 tively and sadly to Lady Estelle, who grew ashy 
 pale, but seemed intent on some letters of her own. 
 The adjutant's epistles were brief. 
 
 Caradoc was requested to join at once, his short 
 leave being cancelled, as he had to go with a draft 
 of eighty rank-and-file for the East. 
 
 My leave was extended for a fortnight, in con- 
 sequence of a medical certificate received concern- 
 ing the accident that had befallen me. 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 So that night saw poor good-hearted Phil depart; 
 and the memory of his thick brown hair and hand- 
 some brown moustache, his clear hazel eyes and 
 honest English face, dwelt not in the thoughts of 
 her with whom he had left his heart behind. 
 
 He had the regimental goat in his custody; and 
 when Winifred caressed and kissed her pet, ere it 
 was lifted into the vehicle that was to convey it to 
 Chester, Phil eyed her wistfully ; and I knew that 
 he would have given the best of his heart's blood 
 to have felt but one of those kisses on his nut- 
 brown cheek !
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 GUILFOYLE, 
 
 My Lord Pottersleigli and the adventurer Hawkes- 
 by Guilfoyle — for an artful, presumptuous, and very 
 singular adventurer he eventually proved to be — 
 could not detect that there was a secret under-" 
 standing, and still less that there was any engage- 
 ment, between Lady Estelle and me ; yet both were 
 sharp enough to fancy that there was something 
 wrong so far as they were concerned — something 
 understood by us which to them was incomprehen- 
 sible ; and the latter now referred in vain to Baden, 
 Berlin, Catzenelnbogen, and other places where 
 they had met so pleasantly on the Continent. 
 
 Engaged solemnly and tenderly to Estelle, I 
 had yet the absurd annoyance of beholding Potters - 
 leigh, who was assured of her mother's countenance
 
 244 UNDER THE BED DEAGON. 
 
 and favour (though he would have heen a more 
 seemly suitor for herself), and whose years and 
 position gave him perfect confidence, hovering or 
 shambling perpetually about her, absorbing her 
 time if not her attention, mumbling his over- 
 strained compliments into her unwilling ear, touch- 
 ing her hand or tapered arm, and even patting her 
 lovely white shoulders from time to time with his 
 withered paws, and every way giving himself such 
 fatherly and loverlike airs of proprietary oddly 
 mingled, that I could with pleasure have punched 
 his aristocratic old head. 
 
 We frequently laughed at all this even when he 
 was present ; for by a glance rather than a word, 
 Estelle could convey to me all she thought and 
 felt. There was something delightful in this secret 
 understanding, this secret community of thought 
 and interest, with one so young and beautiful — 
 more than all, when blended with it was the charm 
 of the most perfect success in a first aff'air of love ; 
 and I thought myself one of the happiest fellows 
 in the world. 
 
 Superb as her toilettes were at all times, she 
 seemed to make little Babette Pompon take extra 
 pains with them now, and I felt delighted accord-
 
 GUILFOYLE. 245 
 
 ingly, for such infinite care seemed to express a 
 desire to please me. 
 
 Our next departure from the Court was Mr. 
 Hawkesby Guilfoyle, whom Sir Madoc and all his 
 visitors had begun to view with a coolness and dis- 
 favour of which the party in question found it con- 
 venient to seem quite oblivious; but it reached its 
 culminating point through a very small matter. 
 
 One day after luncheon we had gone so far as 
 Penmaen Mawr. The four ladies were in the open 
 carriage; I occupied the rumble; Sir Madoc, Lord 
 Pottersleigh, and Guilfoyle were mounted, and we 
 were all enjoying to the fullest extent that glorious 
 combination of marine and mountain scenery pecu^ 
 liar to the Welsh coast ; the air was full of ozone 
 and the sky was full of sunshine. We were all 
 happy, and even Winifred seemed in unusually 
 high spirits; as for Dora, she was never otherwise. 
 The well-hung carriage rolled pleasantly along, be- 
 tween the beautiful green hills, past quiet villages 
 and ancient churches, vast yawning slate quarries, 
 green mounds and gray stones that marked where 
 battles had been, with occasional glimpses of the 
 Irish Sea, that stretched away to the dim horizon 
 like a sheet of glittering glass. Estelle, by ar-
 
 246 UNDER THE RED DRAGOX. 
 
 rangement, sat with her back to the horses, so that 
 she and I could freely converse with our eyes from 
 time to time, under the shade of her skilfully 
 managed parasol. 
 
 Sir Madoc on this day was peculiarly enthusi- 
 astic, and having mounted what the girls called 
 his 'Welsh hobby,' was disposed to give it full 
 rein. 
 
 We halted in a little sequestered glen, a lovely 
 spot embosomed among trees, on the southern 
 slope of the hill. The horses were unbitted ; Owen 
 Gwyllim had put the champagne bottles to cool 
 in a runnel, where their long gilded necks and 
 swollen corks stood invitingly up amid the rich 
 green grass, that almost hid the murmuring 
 water. 
 
 We had come by Caerhun, through an old and 
 little frequented road, where Sir Madoc insisted 
 on pointing out to us all, the many erect old bat- 
 tle-stones by the wayside ; for his mind was now 
 full of quaint stories, and the memory of heroes 
 with barbarous names. Thus when Owen un- 
 corked the Cliquot, he drank more than one 
 guttural Welsh toast, and told us how, often in 
 his boyhood, the road had been obstructed for
 
 GUILFOYLE. 247 
 
 weeks by masses of rock that fell thundering from 
 the mountain above ; and in his love of the olden 
 time or detestation of change, I believe he would 
 have preferred such barriers to progress still, 
 rather than have seen the lines of road and rail 
 that now sweep between the mountain and the sea 
 on the way to Holyhead. 
 
 'It was in this dell or glynj' said Sir Madoc, 
 as he seated his sturdy figure on the grass, though 
 the ladies did not leave the carriage, 'that Llewel- 
 lyn ap Jorwerth took prisoner the luckless William 
 de Breas, whom he hanged at Aber, in the time of 
 Henry III.' 
 
 'Why did he hang him?' asked Guilfoyle, 
 holding his glass for Owen to refill it. 
 
 ' Because he was a handsome fellow, and found 
 too much favour in the eyes of his princess, whom 
 he dragged to the window that she might see his 
 body hanging lifeless on the gibbet.' 
 
 'Deuced hard lines,' said Guilfoyle, laughing. 
 'I thought he might have been hung because 
 he hadn't a pedigree, or some other enormity in 
 Welsh eyes.' As Sir Madoc looked at the speaker 
 his eyes sparkled, for the remark was a singularly 
 gratuitous one.
 
 248 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 *You English/ said lie, Maugh at what you 
 are pleased to consider our little weakness in that 
 respect; and yet the best names in the peerage 
 are apt to be deduced from some corporal or 
 sergeant of William's Norman rabble.' 
 
 ^ Heavens, papa ! when I change my name of 
 Lloyd, I hope it won't be for that of Mrs. John 
 Smith or Kobinson !' said Dora merrily, as she 
 heard that Sir Madoc's tone was sharp. 
 
 ' Well, but you must admit that these fortuit- 
 ous circumstances are deemed of small account 
 now ; for as Dick Cypher sings, 
 
 " A peer and a 'prentice now dress much the same, 
 And you can't tell the difference excepting by name." ' 
 
 ' I don't know who your friend Dick Cypher 
 may be,' replied Sir Madoc quietly, though evi- 
 dently greatly ruffled, 'but Burke and Debrett 
 record as ancient, names we deem but those of 
 yesterday, and when compared with ours are as 
 the stunted gorsebush to pine or oak — yes, sir ! 
 or as the donkey that crops thistles by the way- 
 side when compared to the Arab horse !' 
 
 ' God bless my soul !' exclaimed Pottersleigh, 
 letting his hat sink farther on the nape of his
 
 GUILFOYLE. 249 
 
 neck, as he placed his gold glasses on his long 
 thin nose and gazed at Sir Madoc, who tossed an 
 empty bottle into the runnel, and continued : 
 
 * In "Wales we have the lines of Kynaston, who 
 descend from Rhodric Mawr, King of all Wales, 
 and the daughter and co-heir of the Bloody Wolf; 
 the Mostyns, from the Lord of Abergeleu who 
 founded the eighth noble tribe ; the Vaughans, 
 who come from that King Rhodric who married 
 the daughter of Meuric ap Dyfnwall ap Arthur ap 
 Sitsylt, though that was only in the year 800; and 
 we have the Lloyds — ' 
 
 * 0, papa,' exclaimed Winifred, seeing that 
 Estelle was laughing heartily, ^ we cannot listen 
 to more ; and I am sure that your muster-roll of 
 terrible names must have quite convinced Mr. 
 Guilfoyle of his error.' 
 
 'If it ever existed — I did but jest,' said he, 
 bowing and smiling as he turned to her. 
 
 Sir Madoc's gust of patriotic ire passed away 
 at the sound of his daughter's voice ; but from 
 that moment his manner to Guilfoyle underwent 
 a marked change, for he had already more than 
 once contrived to wound him on this his most 
 tender point. So the usually suave and kind old
 
 250 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 man became very cool to liim as they rode home- 
 ward ; and early that evening Guilfoyle retired to 
 his room, alleging that he had to write letters. 
 
 After dinner, as we idled for a little time in 
 the smoking-room prior to joining the ladies, Lord 
 Pottersleigh led the conversation gradually back 
 to our evening excursion, and with some hesitatiou 
 began to speak of Guilfoyle. 
 
 * You will pardon me, my dear Sir Madoc, for 
 venturing to speak slightingly of any friend of 
 yours ; but — ' 
 
 'Mr. Guilfoyle is no friend of mine,' said the 
 other hastily; 'he dropped among us from the 
 clouds, as it were. "When with Lady Naseby I met 
 him on the beach at Llandudno, he had done her 
 some service on the Continent, at Catzeneln — 
 what's-it's-name? — I invited him on the strength 
 of their past acquaintance — that's all.' 
 
 * Then, briefly, get rid of him, if you can.' 
 ' What do you say, Harry ?' 
 
 * I say with Lord Pottersleigh.' 
 
 Sir Madoc fidgeted, for his Welsh ideas of 
 hospitality were somewhat shocked by the idea of 
 ' getting rid' of a guest. 
 
 * I assure you. Sir Madoc,' resumed the peer,
 
 GUILFOYLE. 251 
 
 ' that he is quite out of his place amongst us, 
 quite; and despite his usually assumed suavity, 
 — for it is assumed, — he lacks intensely Vocleur 
 de la bonne societe, though he affects it ; and I 
 overheard two of your late guests making some 
 very dubious remarks concerning him.' 
 
 * The deuce you did !' exclaimed Sir Madoc, 
 tossing away his half-smoked cigar. 
 
 ' They spoke quite audibly, as if they cared 
 not who might hear them.' 
 ' Who were they ?' 
 
 * Officers of the 19th, from Chester. '' Guil- 
 foyle !" I heard that fast boy Clavell exclaim, as if 
 with surprise, to another ; ''is that fellow, who-^" 
 " The very same." " Then how comes he to be 
 a guest here ?" " Just what I was asking of 
 myself, as he is tabooed everywhere. You know 
 they say—" " They— who ?" " 0, that ubiquit- 
 ous and irresponsible party so difficult to grapple 
 with — that though he was attache at some German 
 place, he has been in several conspiracies to pigeon 
 young muffs just come of age. There was particu- 
 larly one poor fellow of ours whom he rooked at 
 Hamburg of every sixpence, and who was after- 
 wards found drowned in the Alster. And lately I
 
 252 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 have heard that he was proprietor, or part proprie- 
 tor, of a gaming-hell in Berlin." "By Jove!" 
 exclaimed little Clavell; ''but can all this be 
 proved ?" '' No." '' Why ?" " He lays his plans 
 too deeply and surely." Then they walked towards 
 the marquee, and I thought I had heard enough 
 — quite,' added his lordship, snuffing. 
 
 Long before Pottersleigh was done. Sir Madoc 
 had blushed purple with stifled rage and morti- 
 fication. He said, 
 
 ' My lord, you should have mentioned all this 
 instantly.' 
 
 * Truth is, I knew not how to approach the 
 subject.' 
 
 *And I have introduced this fellow to my 
 daughters, to my friends, and to Craigaderyn ! 
 D — n me, I shall choke!' he exclaimed as he 
 started from his chair. ' He is deep as Llyn 
 Tegid ! I have already lost considerable sums to 
 him at billiards, and I always thought his success 
 at cards miraculous. But an end shall be put to 
 this instantly ! — Owen ! Owen Gwyllim !' 
 
 He kicked a spittoon to the other end of the 
 room, rang the bell furiously for the butler, and 
 dashed off a note to Mr. Guilfoyle. It was suf-
 
 GUILFOYLE. 253 
 
 ficiently curt and pointed. He expressed ' regret 
 that a gun would not be at his service on the 
 coming 1st of September ; but that the carriage 
 would await his orders, for Chester or elsewhere.' 
 
 Guilfoj^le had doubtless been accustomed to 
 meet with affronts such as this. Desiring his 
 baggage to be sent after him, he departed that 
 night with his two horses, his groom (and dia- 
 mond ring) ; but, prior to doing so, he had the 
 effrontery to leave P.P.C. cards for Lady Naseby 
 and Estelle, saying that ' he should not forget their 
 kind invitation to Walcot Park ;' and rode off, 
 scheming vengeance on me, to whom he evidently 
 attributed the whole matter, as he informed Owen 
 Gwyllim that he ' would yet repay me, through his 
 solicitor, perhaps, for the interest I had taken in 
 his affairs.' 
 
 This threw a temporary cloud over our little 
 party, and good Sir Madoc felt a kind of sorrow 
 for Guilfoyle as he surmised how little money he 
 might have in his purse, forgetting that he was 
 proprietor of a pair of horses. 
 
 To prevent her amour 'propre being wounded, 
 we most unfortunately did not reveal this man's 
 real character to Lady Naseby ; thus, to Sir Ma-
 
 254 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 doc's hot temper was attributed his sudden de- 
 parture. 
 
 Though Lady Estelle was excessively provoked 
 that, through her and her mother, whom his ser- 
 vice on the Continent had prejudiced in his favour, 
 and through his alleged acquaintance with me, he 
 had become Sir Madoc's guest, in a day or two the 
 whole contretemps was forgotten ; but I was fated 
 not to have seen or heard the last of Mr. Hawkes- 
 by Guilfoyle.
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 
 
 By the peculiarity of our position kept much apart, 
 or seldom finding opportunities, even in a house 
 like Craigaderyn Court, for being alone, as it was 
 perpetually thronged by visitors, we had to con- 
 tent ourselves with the joy of stolen glances that 
 lit up the eye with an expression we alone could 
 read, or that was understood by ourselves only ; 
 by tender touches of the hand that thrilled to the 
 heart; and by inflections of the voice, which, do 
 as we might, would at times become soft and tre- 
 mulous. Our life was now full of petty strata- 
 gems and pretty lover -like enigmas, especially 
 when in the presence of Lady Naseby ; and now 
 I also became afraid of Winifred Lloyd, who, un- 
 occupied, so far as I could see, by any love-affair 
 of her own, was almost certain, I thought, to see
 
 256 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 through mine. * There is no conquest without 
 the affections,' said Ninon de I'Enclos ; ' and what 
 mole is so blind as a woman in love ?' Yet Es- 
 telle was careful to a degree in her hearing, and 
 never permitted her fondness of me to lull her into 
 a sense of security from observation. 
 
 I learned, however, from my ally Dora, that 
 Lady Naseby was so provoked by what Estelle not 
 inaptly termed our 'late^zasco,' that, save for the 
 weight such a proceeding might have given it, they 
 and the Viscount too would have quitted Craiga- 
 deryn Court. So they remained ; but, thought I, 
 what right had he to be concerned in the matter ? 
 And unless I greatly erred, I felt certain that the 
 Countess cared not how soon I received my march- 
 ing orders for that fatal shore where so many of us 
 were to leave our bones. 
 
 Yet many a stolen kiss and snatched caress or 
 pressure of the hand, many a whispered assurance 
 of love, made Estelle and me supremely happy, 
 while the few days that remained of my leave 
 glided quickly — ah, too quickly ! — past ; and all 
 desire for * glory' apart, I was not sorry when I 
 saw that my fractured arm would prevent my being 
 sent with the next draft, and cause my retention
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 257 
 
 for a little time longer in England. * They who 
 love must drink deeply of the cup of trembling,' 
 says some one ; ' for at times there will arise in 
 their hearts a nameless terror, a sickening anxiety 
 for the future, whose brightness all depends upon 
 this one cherished treasure, which often proves a 
 foreboding of some real anguish looming in the 
 distant hours.' 
 
 As yet no forebodings came to mar my happi- 
 ness ; it was without alloy, save the prospect of a 
 certain and, as we trusted to Providence, a tem- 
 porary separation ; yet it was well that I saw not 
 the future, or what those distant hours had in store 
 for me. « 
 
 ' Estelle,' said I, one day when a happy chance 
 threw us together for a few minutes in an arbour 
 of the garden, where we sometimes met at a certain 
 hour, and separated after by different paths, like a 
 pair of conspirators, ' when shall a period be put 
 to all this mystery — this painful, though joyous, 
 false position in which we find ourselves ?' 
 
 ' We can but wait and hope, Harry — wait and 
 hope !' said she, while her head drooped on my 
 shoulder, and my arm went round her. 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 UNDEB THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 ' Wait and hope, dearest, for what ? My pro- 
 motion ?' 
 
 ' That would bring the end no nearer,' said she, 
 with a sad sickly smile. 
 
 ' No, certainly ; even to he colonel of the Eoyal 
 Welsh instead of a mere sub would not enhance 
 my value much in Lady Naseby's estimation,' 
 said I, with some bitterness. ' For what then, 
 darling ?' 
 
 ' Some change in mamma's views regarding me.' 
 
 ' She will never change !' 
 
 ' You know, Harry, that were you rich, I might 
 marry you now — yes, and go to Turkey with you 
 too!' said she, with a brightness in her eyes. 
 
 ' Would to Heaven, then, that I were rich ! 
 But being poor — ' 
 
 ' It is impossible.' 
 
 And we both sighed heavily. 
 
 *I am under orders for the East, and imist 
 take my turn of duty there, risking all the chances 
 of war, ere I can think of home or marriage, Es- 
 telle ; but when we part, if I am not to write to 
 you, how shall I ever know that you think of me ? 
 how hear of your health and welfare ? that you re- 
 main true to me — '
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 259 
 
 * 0, doubt not that.' 
 
 ' Nor do I ; but it would be so sweet to see 
 your writing, and imagine your voice reiterating 
 the troth you plighted to me in that terrible 
 time.' 
 
 ' I shall write to you, dear, dear Harry, for I 
 can do that freely and openly ; but of you, alas ! 
 alas ! I can only hear through our friends at the 
 Court here, for you can neither write to me in 
 London nor at Walcot Park.' 
 
 ' May I not ask Miss Lloyd to receive enclo- 
 sures for you ? I shall be writing to her, and we 
 are such old friends that she would think nothing 
 of it.' ♦ 
 
 * Too old friends, I fear,' said she with a half- 
 smiling but pointed glance; 'but for Heaven's 
 sake think not of that. She would never consent, 
 nor should I wish her to do so. I can of course 
 receive what letters I choose ; but servants will 
 pry, and consider what certain coats of arms, 
 monograms, and postal marks mean ; so my Cri- 
 mean correspondent would be shrewdly suspected, 
 and myself subjected to much annoyance by mam- 
 ma and her views.' 
 
 *Her vieivsf This is the second time you
 
 260 
 
 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 have referred to them,' said I anxiously; 'and 
 they are — ' 
 
 ' That I should marry my cousin Naseby, 
 whom I always disliked,' said Estelle in a sad and 
 sweetly modulated voice ; ' or Lord Pottersleigh, 
 whose wealth and influence are so great that a 
 short time must see him created an earl ; hut he 
 has no chance noiv, dear Harry !' 
 
 Long, lovingly, and tenderly she gazed into 
 my eyes, and her glance and her manner seemed 
 so truthful and genuine that I felt all the rapture 
 of trusting her fearlessly, and that neither time 
 nor distance would alter or lessen her regard for 
 me ; and a thousand times in ' the distant hours' 
 that came did I live over and over again that scene 
 in the arbour, when the warm flush of the August 
 evening was lying deep on the Welsh woods and 
 mountains, when all the mullioned windows of the 
 quaint old mansion were glittering in light, and 
 the soft coo of the wild pigeons was heard as they 
 winged their way to the summit of Craigaderyn, 
 which is usually alive with them, and there the 
 fierce hawk and the ravenous cormorant know well 
 when to find their prey. 
 
 The time for my departure drew near, and al-
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 261 
 
 ready but a day remained to me. Caradoc and 
 Charley Gwynne had ah-eady sailed in a troopship 
 for Varna, from which the entire army was about 
 to embark for a landing on the Kussian coast, and 
 ill or well, my presence with the regimental depot 
 was imperative. 
 
 My bullock trunks had been packed by Owen 
 Gwyllim, and the carriage was ordered to convey 
 me next evening, after an early dinner. The latter 
 passed slowly and heavily enough, and afterwards, 
 instead of remaining all together, as might have 
 been expected, circumstances separated us for an 
 hour or so. Lady Naseby was indisposed ; so was 
 Lord Pottersleigh, whom his old enemy had con- 
 fined by the feet to his rooms, yet he hoped to be 
 in service order, to enact the sportsman on the 
 coming 1st of September, a period to which he 
 looked forward with disgust and horror, as involv- 
 ing an enormous amount of useless fatigue, with 
 the chances of shooting himself or some one else. 
 Sir Madoc had certain country business to attend ; 
 and on the three young ladies retiring to the 
 drawing-room, I was left to think over my ap- 
 proaching departure through the medium of bur- 
 gundy and a cigar.
 
 262 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 My sword arm was nearly well now ; but still 
 I should have made but a poor affair of it, if com- 
 pelled to resort to inside and outside cuts, to point 
 and parry, witli a burly Muscovite. 
 
 To know that I had but a few hours left me 
 now, and not to spend them with Estelle Cress- 
 ingham, seemed intolerable ! Before me, from 
 the window, spread the far extent of grassy chase 
 steeped in the evening sunshine ; above the green 
 woods were the peaks of Snowdon and Carney dd 
 Llewellyn, dim and blue in the distance ; and 
 while gazing at them wistfully, I reflected on all I 
 should have to see and undergo, to hope and fear 
 and suffer — the miles I should have to traverse by 
 sea and land — ere I again heard, if ever, the plea- 
 sant rustle of the leaves in these old woods, the 
 voice of the wild pigeon or the croak of the rooks 
 among the old Tudor gables and chimneys of 
 Craigaderyn. And then again I thought of Es- 
 telle. 
 
 ^ I must see her, and alone too, at all risks ; 
 perhaps dear little Dora will assist me,' I mut- 
 tered, and went towards the drawing-room, which 
 was now considerably involved in shadow, being 
 on the western side of the Court ; and I felt with
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 263 
 
 tlie tender Eosalind, wlien her lover said, ' For 
 these two hours, Eosalind, I will leave thee,' * Alas, 
 dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.' 
 
 I entered the room and found only Winifred 
 Lloyd. She was seated in the deep hay of a very 
 picturesque old oriel window, which seemed to 
 frame her as if in a picture. Her chin was resting 
 in the hollow of her left hand, and she was gazing 
 outward dreamily on vacancy, or along the flower- 
 terraces of the house ; hut she looked hastily 
 round, and held out a hand to me as I approached. 
 
 I caressed the pretty hand, and then dropped 
 it ; and not knowing very well what to say, leaned 
 over the hack of her chair. 
 
 *I suppose,' she began, 'you are thinking — 
 thinking — ' 
 
 * How far more pleasing to the eye are a pair 
 of fair white shoulders to the same amount of silk 
 or satin,' said I smilingly, as I patted her neck 
 with my glove. 
 
 She shrugged the white shoulders in question, 
 and said petulantly, with half averted face, 
 
 * Is it possible that your departure has no place 
 in your thoughts ?' 
 
 * Alas, yes ! for do I not leave Craigaderyn by
 
 264 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 sunset ? and its golden farewell rays are lingering 
 on blue Snowdon even now,' said I, witli a forced 
 snaile ; for though I had come in quest of Estelle, 
 something — I know not what — drew me to Wini- 
 fred just then. 
 
 Her eyebrows were very black, but slightly 
 arched, and they almost met over her nose; and I 
 gazed into the orbs below them, so dark, so clear 
 and beautiful — eyes that could neither conceal the 
 emotions of her heart, nor the pleasure or sorrow 
 she felt ; and I thought how easily a man might 
 be lured to forget the world for her, as friendship 
 between the sexes — especially in youth — is peril- 
 ous; and some such thought perhaps occurred 
 to her, for she turned her face abruptly from me. 
 
 ' You are surely not angry with me ?' said I, 
 bending nearer her ear. 
 
 ' Angry — I with you ?' 
 
 * Yes.' 
 
 * Why should I be so ?' she asked, looking 
 down upon her folded hands that trembled in her 
 lap, — for she w\as evidently repressing some emo- 
 tion ; thinking perhaps of poor Phil Caradoc, who 
 was then ploughing the waters of the Mediter- 
 ranean with Carneydd Llewellyn to console him.
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 265 
 
 'You should not have come here,' said she, 
 after a pause. 
 
 * Not into the drawing-room ?' 
 
 * Unless to meet Estelle Cressingham.' 
 
 *Do not say this,' said I nervously and im- 
 ploringly, in a low voice; 'what is Estelle to me?' 
 
 'Indeed!' said the little scornful lip. 'Her 
 mamma summoned her, but she may be here 
 shortly.' 
 
 Doubtless Lady Naseby had some dread of the 
 leave-taking. 
 
 * I shall be so glad to see her once again ere 
 I go.' 
 
 * Of course.' 
 
 ' I hope that you and she will often think and 
 speak of me when I am gone.' 
 
 ' You are a delightful egotist, Harry Hardinge; 
 but I trust our memories may be reciprocal.' 
 
 'We have ever been such friends, and must be, 
 you know, Winifred.' 
 
 ' Yes, Harry ; why should we not be friends ?' 
 she asked, with a dash of passionate earnestness 
 in her tone, while she gazed at me with a curious 
 expression in her large, soft, and long-lashed eyes. 
 
 ' Have you any message for — for — '
 
 266 UNDER THE RED DRIGOX. 
 
 * Whom ?' she asked sharply. 
 'Philip Caradoc' 
 
 * None.' 
 'None!' 
 
 ' Save kindest regards and warmest wishes. 
 What is Mr. Caradoc to me?' Then she gave a 
 little shiver, as she added, ' Our conversation is 
 taking a very strange tone.' 
 
 ' I cannot conceive in how I have annoyed 
 you,' said I, with something of sorrow and wonder 
 in my heart. 
 
 ' Perhaps ; but you have not annoyed me, 
 though you are not quite what you used to be ; 
 and none are so blind as those who will not see.' 
 
 ' I am quite perplexed. I think we know each 
 other pretty well, Winifred ?' said I, very softly. 
 
 *I know you certainly,' was the dubious re- 
 sponse. 
 
 * Well — and I you?' said I, laughing. 
 
 * Scarcely. Woman, you should be aware, is a 
 privileged enigma.' 
 
 * Well, I was about to say that, whatever hap- 
 pens, we must ever be dear friends, and think of 
 each other kindly and tenderly, for the pleasant 
 times that are past and gone.'
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 267 
 
 ^ What can happen to make us otherwise ?' she 
 asked m a strange voice. 
 
 ' I — may be killed,' said I, not knowing very 
 well what to say or suggest ; ^ so, while there is a 
 chance of such a contingency, let us part kindly ; 
 not so coldly as this, dear Winifred ; and kiss me 
 ere I go.' 
 
 Her lips, warm and tremulous, touched mine 
 for an instant ; but her eyes were sad and wild, 
 and her poor little face grew ashy white as she 
 hastened away, leaving me with Estelle, who was 
 approaching through the long and shaded room ; 
 and when with her, Winifred Lloyd and the mo- 
 mentary emotion that had sprung up — emotio;i 
 that I cared not and dared not then to analyse — 
 were utterly forgotten. 
 
 Our interview was a very silent one. We had 
 barely time for. a few words, and heavy on my heart 
 as lead weighed the conviction that I had to part 
 from her — my love so recently won, so firmly pro- 
 mised and affianced. I knew that the days of my 
 sojourn at Winchester must be few now; and with 
 the chances of war before me, and temptations and 
 aristocratic ambition left behind with her, how
 
 268 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 dubious and liow remote were the chances of our 
 meeting again ! 
 
 Moments there were when I felt blindly des- 
 perate, and with my arms round Estelle. 
 
 When returning, would she still love me, as 
 Desdemona loved her Moor, for the dangers I had 
 dared? The days of chivalry and romance have 
 gone ; but the * old, old story' yet remains to us, 
 fresh as when first told in Eden. 
 
 *For life or death, for good or for evil, for 
 weal or woe, darling Estelle, I leave my heart in 
 your keeping!' said I, in a low passionate whisper; 
 * in twelve months, perhaps, I may claim you as 
 my wife.' • 
 
 /L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose,' said she 
 quietly and tenderly. 'I yet hope to see you, 
 were it but for a day, at Walcot Park, ere you 
 sail.' 
 
 * Bless you for the hope your words give me !' 
 said I, as Owen Gwyllim came to announce that 
 the carriage was at the door, and to give me Lady 
 Naseby's and Lord Pottersleigh's cards and fare- 
 well wishes. And from that moment all the rest 
 of my leave-taking seemed purely mechanical ; 
 and not only Sir Madoc, his two daughters, and
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEAET. 269' 
 
 Estelle, were on the terrace of the mansion to bid 
 me adieu, but all the hearty, hot-tempered, higli- 
 cheekboned old Welsh domestics, most of whom 
 had known me since boyhood, were also there. 
 
 The impulsive Dora brought me my courier- 
 bag, a flask filled with brandy, and dainty sand- 
 wiches cut and prepared by Winifred's own kind 
 little hands (for in doing this for me she would 
 trust neither the butler nor Mrs. Gwenny Davis 
 the housekeeper), and then she held up her bright 
 face to be kissed; but inspired by I know not what 
 emotion of doubt or d)'ead, I only touched with 
 my lips the hands of Lady Estelle and Miss 
 Lloyd. 
 
 Both girls stood a little apart from each other, 
 pale as death, tremulous with suppressed emotion, 
 and with their lashes matted and their eyes filled 
 with tears, that pride and the presence of others 
 restrained from falling. They were calm extern- 
 ally, but their hearts were full of secret thoughts^ 
 to which I was long in getting the clue. 
 
 In the eyes of Estelle there was that glance or 
 expression of loving intensity which most men 
 have seen once — it may be twice — in a woman's- 
 eye, and have never, never forgotten.
 
 ^70 UNDER THE EED DRAGON. 
 
 Sir Madoc's brown manly hand shook mine 
 heartily, and he clapped me on the back. 
 
 ' I hope to see you yet ere you leave England, 
 my boy, and such hopes always take the sting 
 from an adieu,' said he, with a voice that quivered 
 nevertheless. ' Sorry you can't stay for the 1st of 
 September — the partridges will be in splendid 
 order; but there is shooting enough of another 
 kind in the preserves you are going to.' 
 
 'And may never come back from,' was the 
 comforting addendum of old Mrs. Davis, as she 
 applied her black- silk apron to her eyes. 
 
 ' Ah, Harry,' said Sir Madoc, * you gave a smile 
 so like your mother just now ! She was handsome ; 
 but you will never be like her, were you as beauti- 
 ful as Absalom.' 
 
 'It is well that poor mamma can't hear all 
 this,' said Dora, laughing through her tears. 
 
 ' Your dear mamma, my girl, was very fond of 
 her and of him too,' said honest Sir Madoc; and 
 then he whispered, ' If ever you want cash, Harry, 
 don't forget me, and Coutts and Co. — the dingy 
 den in the Strand. Farewell — anwylbach! — good- 
 bye!' 
 
 A few minutes more and all the tableau on the
 
 TWO LOVES FOR ONE HEART. 271 
 
 steps had passed away. I was bowling along the 
 tall lime avenue and down the steep mountain 
 road, up which Phil Caradoc and I had travelled 
 but a few weeks before. 
 
 How much had passed since then! and how 
 much was inevitably to pass ere I should again 
 see these familiar scenes ! 
 
 What had I said, or left unsaid ? What had 
 I done, what had passed, or how was it, that as 
 the train sped with me beyond brave old Chester, 
 on and on, on and on, monotonously clanking, 
 grinding, jarring, and occasionally shrieking, while 
 intrenched among railway rugs, with a choice cigar 
 between my teeth, and while I was verging into 
 that pleasant frame of mind when soft and happy 
 visions are born of the half-drowsy brain, lulled 
 as it were by rapidity of motion and the sameness 
 of recurring sounds — how was it, I say, that the 
 strange, unfathomable expression I had seen in 
 the soft pleading eyes of dear Winifred — distance 
 was already making her ' dear' — mingled in my 
 memory with the smileless, grave, and tender fare- 
 well glance of my pale Estelle ; and that the sweet 
 innocent kiss of the former was remembered with 
 sadness and delight ?
 
 272 UNDER THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 I strove to analyse my ideas, and then tlirust 
 them from me, as I lowered the carriage window 
 and looked forth upon the flying landscape and 
 the starry night, and muttered, 
 
 ' Poor Winny — God bless her ! But tivo loves 
 for one heart will never, never do. I have been 
 at Craigaderyn too long !' 
 
 And I pictured to myself the drawing-room 
 there: Estelle perhaps at the piano to conceal her 
 emotions ; or listening, it might be, to the twaddle 
 of old Pottersleigh. Winny gazing out upon the 
 starlit terrace, trying to realise the prospect — as 
 women proposed to will do — if she had married 
 Phil Caradoc ; or thinking of — Heaven knows 
 what ! And old Sir Madoc in his arm-chair, and 
 dreaming, while Dora nestled by his side, of the 
 old times, and the boy — to wit, myself — he loved 
 so well. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON ; 
 
 aOESON AND SONS, PRINTiiKS, PANCRAS KOAD, N.W,
 
 
 d