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 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW.
 
 2rijc Neb Nobels. 
 
 A RECOILING VENGEANCE. By Feank BAERiiTT. 2 vols. 
 
 DIANA B.^RRTNGTON. By Mrs. Crokee, 3 vols. 
 
 A LEAL LASS. By Basil. 2 vols. 
 
 THE LAST HURDLE. A Stort of Sporting and Courting. 
 3!3. 6cl. 
 
 IN OPPOSITION. By G. M. J. Blackbxirne. 3 vols. 
 
 ROBERT HOLT'S ILLUSION. By Miss Linskill. 6s. 
 
 WARD & DOWNEY, Publishees, London.
 
 THE 
 
 MAl^ WITH A SHADOW 
 
 BY 
 
 a MANVILLE FENN, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " OXE MAId's MISCHIEF," " THE MASTEK OF THE CEREMONIliS,' 
 " DOUBLB CirXNIITG," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 WARD AND DOWNEY, 
 
 12, YOEK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 
 
 1888. 
 [J.71 rights reserved.^
 
 CHARLl'H DICKENS AND EVANS, 
 CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS.
 
 cf5 3 
 k / 
 
 COXTEXTS. 
 
 (^ 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS ; AND TAKES HIS STICK 1 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 DR. NORTH GETS IN HOT WATER . . . .20 
 
 ^ CHAPTER III. 
 
 II 
 t? SCIENCE AT WORK . .• 32 
 
 7 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PARSON SALIS TAKES OFF HIS COAT , . .37 
 
 CHAPTER Y 
 
 THE doctor's PATIE> 
 
 ^J. THE doctor's patients WANT HIM AT HOME . . 47
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DR. NORTH VISITS THE SEXTON . . . .59 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 A FRESH PATIENT .... 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DR. NORTH SEES A WHITE MARK . 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES 
 
 80 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " HOW I DO HATE THAT GIRL ! " . . . .88 
 
 98 
 
 105 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 JONADAB MOREDOCK SEES A GHOST . . .113 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE sexton's FETCH . . . . , .123 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AFTER CHURCH .132
 
 CONTENTS. vii 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 HOW HORACE NORTH DID NOT GO TO THE MEET . 141 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A REFRACTORY PATIEN*T . . . . .152 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "l AM NOT ill" 156 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING . . . . .166 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 LEO MAKES A CONFESSION . . . , .175 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WAS IT DELIRIUM ] 183 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A VENERABLE OLD MAN . . . . .196 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 "SOMETBING PARTICULAR TO SAY " . . . 204
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DR. NORTH PROPOSES . . . . . .212 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 TOM OANDLISH PLAYS 13ADLY 224 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 A TERRIBLE SILENCE . . . . . .241 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SMITH FINDS SOMETHING WRONG . . . .246 
 
 CHAPTER XXYL 
 "ah!" 254 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 THE doctor's opportunity . . . . .261
 
 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS; AND TAKES 
 
 HIS STICK. 
 
 " Do what, miss ? " said Dally Watlock. 
 " That ! There, you did it again." 
 ** La, miss ; I on'y thought my face might 
 be a bit smudgy, and I wiped it." 
 
 " Don't tell me a falsehood, Dally. I know 
 what it means. You felt guilty, and your 
 face burned." 
 
 " La, miss ; I don't know what you mean." 
 " Then Til tell you, Dally. You are grow- 
 ing too light and free, and your conduct is 
 far from becominp^, or what it should be for 
 a maid-servant at the Rectory. If girls are 
 so foolish they must not be surprised at young 
 
 _^, VOL. I. B 
 
 \ I
 
 2 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 men — gentlemen — taking such liberties. Now 
 go. And mind this : if it ever occurs again, 
 I shall acquaint my brother." 
 
 *' Well, I couldn't help it, miss. I didn't 
 ask Mr. Tom Candlish to kiss me." 
 
 " Silence ! How dare you ? Leave the 
 room." 
 
 " I was a-going to, miss. He popped out 
 from behind the hedge just as Billy Wilkins 
 had given me the letters, and he says, * Give 
 this note to Miss Leo, Dally,' he says, 'and 
 mind no one else sees.' " 
 
 " I told you to leave the room, girl." 
 
 " Well, miss, I'm a-going, ain't I ? And 
 then, before I could help it, he put his arm 
 round me and said my cheeks were like 
 apples." 
 
 ** Will — you — leave — the— room ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss, of course I will ; and then he 
 kissed me just as Billy Wilkins looked back, 
 and now he'll go and tell Joe Chegg, and 
 he'll scold me too. I'm a miserable girl." 
 
 Eed-cheeked, ruddy-lipped Dally Watlock 
 — christened Delia as a compromise for 
 Delilah — covered her round face with her
 
 THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 3 
 
 apron, and began to sob and try to pump up 
 a few tears to her bright dark eyes, as her 
 young mistress seized her by the shoulders, 
 and literally forced her out of the room, 
 when Dally went sobbing down the passage 
 and through the baize door before she dropped 
 her apron and began to laugh. 
 
 " She's as jealous as jel ! '' cried the girl. 
 ''It made her look quite yellow. Deal she's 
 got to talk about, too. Tell master ! She 
 daren't ! The minx ! I could tell too. AYho 
 cares for her — tallow -face? Thinks she's 
 precious good-looking ; but she ain't every- 
 body, after all. Master Joe Chegg, too, had 
 better mind. I don't care if he does know 
 now." 
 
 Then as if the spot burned, or as if a 
 natural instinct taught her that the kiss im- 
 printed upon her cheek was not as cleanly as 
 it. should have been, or as one of the honest 
 salutes of the aforesaid Joe Cheofor, Dallv 
 Watlock lifted her neat white apron, and 
 wiped the place again. 
 
 '•' How dare he kiss her ? " said Leo Salis, 
 frowning, as she laid the post letters beside 
 
 B 2
 
 4 TBI] MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 her brother's place at the breakfast-table, 
 and then stood with the note in her hand. 
 " I'll punish him for this ! " 
 
 She hastily tore open the note, which was 
 written in a good, manly hand, but contained 
 in ten lines four specimens of faulty spelling, 
 and a " you was " which looked as big as a 
 blot. 
 
 The note was brief and contained a press- 
 ing invitation to meet the writer in Eed Cliff 
 Wood that morning, as soon after breakfast as 
 she could. 
 
 " I won't go," she said passionately. '' I'll 
 punish him ! " 
 
 Then, as if feeling that she would punish 
 herself, the girl stood thinking, and then hastily 
 crushed the note in her hand and walked to 
 the window, to be apparently studying the 
 pretty Warwickshire landscape as her brother 
 and sister entered the room. 
 
 *^ Morning, Leo, dear," said Mary Salis, 
 the elder of the two ; a fair English girl, 
 gray-eyed, with high forehead and dark- 
 brown, wavy hair, her type of countenance, 
 allowing for feminine softness, being wonder-
 
 TBE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 5 
 
 fully like that of the robust, manly-looking 
 clergyman who entered with his hand resting 
 upon her shoulder. 
 
 " Morning, Mary," said Leo quietly ; and 
 her handsome dark, almost Spanish, features 
 seemed perfectly calm and inanimate as she 
 returned her sister's salute ; and then, in a 
 half weary way, rather distantly held up her 
 cheek for her brother to kiss. 
 
 '' Get out ! '' said the latter boisterously, 
 as he caught the handsome girl by the 
 shoulders, and tried to look in her eyes which 
 avoided his. *^ No nonsense, Leo, my dear. 
 No grumps. Give me a good, honest kiss. 
 Lips — lips — lips." 
 
 She raised her face in obedience to the 
 emphatic demand, and then extricated her- 
 self from the two strong hands, to take her 
 place at the table ; while her sister, who 
 seemed nervous and anxious, and kept 
 glancing from one to the other, went to the 
 head of the table, and began to make the 
 tea. 
 
 "You and I must not be on two sides, 
 Leo, my dear," said the brother, smiling, but
 
 6 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 with a troubled look on his face, which 
 seemed the reflection of that in the eyes of 
 the elder sister. " I'm like a grandfather to 
 you, my darling, and what I say and advise 
 is for the best." 
 
 *'Do you wish to send me back to my 
 room, Hartley ? " said the girl, half rising. 
 
 " Name of a little fiddler in France, no ! " 
 cried Hartley Salis. '* There — mum! I've 
 done, dear. Breakfast ! I'm as hungry as 
 two curates this morning. What is it, 
 
 Dally ? " 
 
 "Ammonegs, sir," said the little maid, 
 who entered with a covered dish. 
 
 " Didn't know Ammon ever laid 'em," 
 muttered the curate, with a dry look at his 
 sisters. " Now then : letters. Let me see." 
 
 He proceeded to open his letters, and read 
 and partook of his breakfast at the same 
 time, making comments the while for the 
 benefit of his sisters, when he thought the 
 news would please. 
 
 " Humph ! May ! " he said aloud ; and 
 then skimmed the ill-written, crabbed lines 
 in silence.
 
 TEE cm ATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 7 
 
 *' Hang him ! " he said to himself. " What 
 mischief-making wretch inspired that ? " and 
 he re-read the letter. " ' Not becoming of 
 the sister of a clergyman to be seen so often 
 in the huntincr- field — better be enorao-ed over 
 parish work — excites a good deal of remark 
 — hope shall not have to make this painful 
 allusion again ' — Humph ! '^ 
 
 The curate's face was full of the lines of 
 perplexity, and rapidly doubling up the letter, 
 he swallowed half a cup of tea at a gulp, 
 much hotter than was good for him, and 
 quite sufficiently so to cause pain. 
 '' Phew ! More milk, Mary, dear." 
 A long white hand raised the milk-jug 
 quickly, and the earnest gray eyes which 
 belonged souc^ht the curate's as he held out 
 his cup. 
 
 " Any bad news, Hartley, dear ? " 
 " Bad news ? No, no, dear, only one of 
 May's old worries. The old boy's got gout 
 
 again." 
 
 " Has he, dear ? " 
 
 ''Well, he doesn't say so, but it breathes 
 in that style. He feels it his duty to stir
 
 8 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW 
 
 me up now and then, and he generally does it 
 with a sharp stick." 
 
 He glanced as he spoke at Leo, who sipped 
 her tea and read a novel, without apparently 
 heeding what was going on. 
 
 "It's a great shame, Hartley, working so 
 hard in the parish as you do," said Mary 
 quietly ; " while he " 
 
 " Oh, silence ! thou reviler of those in 
 high clerical places," cried the curate mer- 
 rily, as he inserted his knife in the envelope 
 fold of another missive, and slit it open. 
 "Here's a letter from North." 
 
 The face of Mary Salis was perfectly 
 composed, but there was a flash from her 
 eyes and an eager look of inquiry as the 
 letter was opened. 
 
 " Ha ! Busy as a bee ! Conferences ; 
 lectures. Going to be present at a great 
 operation. Nasty wretch ! How he does 
 glory in great operations ! " 
 
 " It is his love of his profession," said 
 Mary quietly. 
 
 "Too enthusiastic," said the curate. "Why 
 doesn't he, a man with his income, make
 
 THE CUB ATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 9 
 
 himself happy by doing what good he can 
 to his patients, and have his game of chess 
 here when his work is done ? " 
 
 " It is his desire to do good to his patients 
 which makes him so earnest about scientific 
 matters, dear," said Mary, smiling at her 
 brother. 
 
 " Very kind of you to do battle for him, 
 my child ; but Horace North works far too 
 hard, and he'll end by going mad." 
 
 " Or becoming one of the ornaments of 
 his profession," said Mary, smiling. 
 
 " Ornaments be hanged ! One of the 
 useful corners, if you like." 
 
 " Does he say when he is coming home ? " 
 said Mary quietly. 
 
 " Yes ; day after to-morrow. Good news 
 for Mrs. Berens." 
 
 The curate burst into a hearty laugh, and 
 a very, very faint flush of colour came into 
 Mary's cheek. 
 
 " Saw her yesterday, and with a face as 
 innocent of guile as could be she told me 
 that she was very poorly, and should not 
 feel safe to live lono- in a villao-e w^here there
 
 10 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 was no medical man. Glad old Horace is 
 coming back, though. What have we here ? 
 Oh, I see. Letter about the horse — no, it's 
 a mare." 
 
 Leo put down her book and listened 
 attentively now. 
 
 "Hah! Yes! North was right. The 
 fellow will take ten pounds less for her, after 
 all." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 There was a faint sigh, expressive of grati- 
 fication, and the curate looked up. 
 
 " Are you satisfied, Leo ? " he said gravely. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It goes against the grain," he said, laying 
 his hand involuntarily upon the letter he had 
 that morning received from the rector. 
 
 " Don't say that, Hartley," cried Leo, with 
 her face now full of animation. "We can 
 afi"ord the horse, and it was absolutely dis- 
 graceful to appear on poor old Grey Joe." 
 
 " Grey Joe was a good safe horse, and I 
 never felt nervous when you were mounted. 
 Splendid fellow in harness too." 
 
 " Yes, admirable ! " cried Leo. " And now
 
 THE CUBATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 11 
 
 you can keep him always for the chaise. It 
 will be so much better." 
 
 The curate shook his head. 
 
 "No," he said ; '"'poor old Joe will have to 
 go, and I wish him a good master." 
 
 " Poor old Joe ! " said Mary, sighing, as 
 she thought of many pleasant drives. 
 
 ''Grey Joel Go!" said Leo, with her 
 lips apart. "Then what will you do for the 
 chaise ? " 
 
 " Use the new mare." 
 
 Leo looked at him with speechless indig- 
 nation. 
 
 " Put the new mare in the chaise ? " she 
 faltered. 
 
 "Yes, my dear. The man says she goes 
 well in harness." 
 
 "Oh, Hartley," cried Leo, flushing now 
 with indignation, "that would be too 
 absurd ! " 
 
 " Why, my dear ? " 
 
 " You get me a mount because it is so un- 
 pleasant to go to the meet on an old chaise- 
 horse, and then talk of putting my hunter 
 in the chaise."
 
 12 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 *' Grey Joe was not good enough for the 
 purpose," said the curate gravely, "and at 
 your earnest wish, my dear Leo, I have 
 pinched in several ways that my sister, 
 who is so fond of hunting, may not be 
 ashamed before her friends." 
 
 "Pinched!" 
 
 "Yes, my dear, pinched myself and Mary. 
 Our consols money only gives three per cent, 
 and it is hard work to make both ends meet. 
 You have your mount, and I cannot afford 
 to keep two horses, so Grey Joe must go. 
 We must have the use of a horse in the 
 chaise, so the mare will have to run in har- 
 ness sometimes." 
 
 Leo rose from her chair with her eyes 
 flashing and cheek aflame. 
 
 '* I declare it's insufferable," she cried, 
 with a stamp of the foot. "Oh, I am so 
 sick of this life of beggary and pinching ! 
 All through this season I have been dis- 
 graced by that wretched old horse, and now 
 when people who know me Oh, I can- 
 not bear to speak of it ! " 
 
 " My dear sister ! "
 
 THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 13 
 
 '* It's cruel — it's abominable. If it had been 
 Mary, she could have had what she pleased." 
 
 '' My dear Leo," began Mary, looking up 
 at her in a troubled way. 
 
 '' Hold your tongue ! You make mischief 
 enough as it is. You always side with 
 Hartley, who has no more feeling than a 
 stone." 
 
 " But, my dear child," began the curate. 
 
 *' Child ! Yes ; that's how you treat me 
 — like a child. You check me in every way. 
 I suppose you'll want to make me a nun, 
 and keep me shut up always in this dreary 
 hole. You check me in everything, and 
 Mary helps you." 
 
 Mary looked up at her brother now, for 
 he had slowly risen from his seat, and she 
 knew the meaning of the stern aspect of his 
 countenance. 
 
 "I had hoped, Leo," he said, "that you 
 would have accepted my decision about that 
 to which you have thought it wise to allude." 
 
 " I am driven to it," cried the girl pas- 
 sionately. 
 
 *' No : I try to lead," said the curate, '* as
 
 14 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 a father might lead. I shall be sorry when 
 the time comes for you to quit our pleasant 
 old home, but if a good man and true comes 
 and says, ' I love your sister ; give her me to 
 wife ' " 
 
 " If you cannot speak plain English, pray 
 hold your tongue," cried Leo scornfully. 
 
 " I should hold out my hands to him, and 
 greet him as a new brother, Leo," said the 
 curate solemnly ; " but when I find that 
 my young, innocent sister is being made the 
 toy of a worthless, degraded " 
 
 " How dare you ? " cried Leo, flashing out 
 in her rage, while Mary went to her side, 
 and laid her hand upon the trembling arm 
 half raised. 
 
 " I dare," said the curate gravely, " be- 
 cause I have right upon my side. I think — 
 and Mary joins me in so thinking " 
 
 '* Of course ! " said Leo scornfully. 
 
 **That Thomas Candlish is no fit com- 
 panion for my sister. I have told you so, 
 and to cease all further communication. 
 I have told him so ; forbidden him the 
 house ; and he has accepted my judgment."
 
 TEE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 15 
 
 " Mr. Candlish is a gentleman," cried Leo 
 fiercely. 
 
 " People call him so, and his brother by 
 the same name, because of the old family 
 property ; but if they are gentlemen, thank 
 Heaven I am a poor curate ! " 
 
 "Your conduct " 
 
 "Hush!" said the curate firmly. "We 
 will say no more about this, Leo, my dear. 
 You are angry without cause. I have ac- 
 ceded to your request for a fresh horse, so 
 as to indulge you in your love of hunting, 
 and at more cost than you imagine. I shall 
 always be glad to do anything that I can 
 to make my sisters happy ; but I must be 
 judge and master here, though I fear I am 
 often very weak." 
 
 " It is insuflferable," cried Leo indignantly ; 
 and she raised quite a little whirlwind as 
 she swept out of the room. 
 
 The curate sighed, and sank back in his 
 chair with his brow^ knit, till he felt a soft 
 arm encircle his neck and a rounded cheek 
 rest against his temple. 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed; "that's better;"
 
 16 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 and he passed his arm round the graceful 
 form. " This is very sad, Mary. But, there ; 
 we will not brood over it ; difficulties often 
 settle themselves." 
 
 "Yes, Hartley." 
 
 " But that Candlish business must not go 
 on. 
 
 " No, Hartley. It is impossible." 
 
 She kissed his forehead, and the breakfast 
 was finished in silence — supposed to be 
 finished. It had really ended when Leo Salis 
 quitted the room. 
 
 It was about an hour later that as the 
 Keverend Hartley Salis was hard at work 
 over his sermon, striving his best to keep 
 out college lore, and to write in language 
 that the Duke's Hampton villagers could 
 easily understand, that he came to the sen- 
 tence folio wins: — 
 
 " Now a man's duty, my friends — and a 
 woman's " — he added parenthetically. 
 
 '' Now, what shall I tell them a man's 
 duty is — and a woman's ? " 
 
 That required thought, and he laid down 
 his pen, rose, and walked to the study
 
 THE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 17 
 
 window, to look out on the pleasant land- 
 scape ; beautiful still, though not in the 
 most goodly time of year. 
 
 "Obedience!" he cried angrily, for just 
 passing out of the little rustic gate at the 
 bottom of the Kectory grounds he saw his 
 sister Leo. 
 
 She was in hat and cloak. Her movements 
 were rapid, and the furtive look she darted 
 back told tales. 
 
 ''No," said the curate; "it would be 
 spying. I cannot." 
 
 " It is your duty," something seemed to 
 whispsr to him. 
 
 "Perhaps I am contemptibly mean and 
 suspicious," he muttered. " I hope I am. 
 
 If it is so, I'll No, no, no. Hartley, my 
 
 son ! EecoUect what you are. Such as the 
 bishop should be, such must you be — no 
 brawler — no striker. No: it must be a 
 favourable opportunity for a quiet chat with 
 Leo, for we cannot go on like this, poor 
 child." 
 
 He went into the hall, took down his hat, 
 reached a stout cudgel-like stick which his 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 hand gripped firmly, as his nerves tingled, 
 while his left hand clenched, and felt as if 
 it were grasping some one by the collar. 
 
 '' A scoundrel ! " he muttered. 
 
 *' Going out, dear ? " 
 
 " Ah, Mary ! You there ? You go about 
 like a mouse. Yes, I've just got to 'a man's 
 duty is ' in my sermon, and can't get any 
 farther, so I'll go as far as Red Cliff Wood 
 and back for a refresher." 
 
 He nodded and went out. 
 
 "Poor Mary!" he muttered; "she must 
 not know ; but if I had stayed a minute 
 longer she would have found me out. 
 Now, Master Tom Candlish, if you are there, 
 
 rii — " 
 
 He gave himself a sharp slap on the 
 mouth. 
 
 " Steady ! Man, man, man ! how you do 
 
 forget your cloth ! But if Tom Candlish 
 
 Pish ! Steady, man ! Let's go and see." 
 
 Mary Salis stood in the deep old muUioned 
 window, gazing after him. 
 
 " Hartley never leaves and speaks like 
 that unless there is something wrong," she
 
 TEE CURATE GROWS SUSPICIOUS. 19 
 
 said to herself. " If that wretched man 
 has persuaded Leo — she has just gone out — 
 without a word. Oh, no, no ! she would not 
 do such a thiog as that. How I do picture 
 troubles where there are none ! " 
 
 She stood watching until her brother dis- 
 appeared, and then went back into the 
 dining-room, telling herself that it was folly, 
 but her heart refused to be convinced, and 
 set up a low, heavy, ominous throb. 
 
 C 2
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 dr. north gets in hot water. 
 
 ^'Yah!" 
 
 A virtuous mob's war-cry. The favourite 
 ejaculation of the unwashed scoundrels who 
 are always ready to redress grievances and 
 hunt down their fellow-creatures for the 
 crimes they glory in themselves — when they 
 can commit them safely. 
 
 There is always a large floating contingent 
 ready for this duty, and also — to use their 
 own expression — "to have a go at any think ;" 
 and upon several occasions they had had 
 *' a go " at the lecture-room of St. Sector's 
 Hospital, Florsbury, the consequence of such 
 *' goes " being that the neighbouring glaziers 
 had a large job ; but the authorities preferred
 
 I)R, NOETH GETS IN HOT WATEE. 21 
 
 to content themselves with keeping out the 
 wind and water, and left the exterior unpainted, 
 showing the stone dents, chipped paint, 
 and batterings of the insensate crew of 
 virtuous beingrs who revel in destruction 
 whenever they have a chance. 
 
 The " Yahoos " had their own theory about 
 St. Sector's, and allowed themselves to 
 smoulder for a time, but every now and then 
 they burst forth into eruption, and then the 
 consequences were not pleasant to behold. 
 
 Lecture night at St. Sector's, and a goodly 
 gathering present to witness an o^^eration 
 performed by one of the greatest surgical 
 savans of the day. There were medical 
 students present, but some of the cleverest 
 surgeons of London and the country had 
 made a point of being there to see the 
 operation and learn how to combat a terrible 
 disease which, up to that date, had been con- 
 sidered certain death to the unfortunate 
 being who contracted that ill. 
 
 The old savant had thought, had experi- 
 mented, and had given years of his life to 
 studying that evil, and now% having pro-
 
 22 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 claimed the result of his discoveries, and 
 coming as the announcement did from a 
 man of such weight in the profession, a 
 strong band of the lights of surgical science 
 had gathered together to witness the experi- 
 ment ; and also hear a paper read by a 
 young surgeon from the country — Dr. 
 Horace North. 
 
 Precedence was given to the paper, and a 
 keen, intelligent, handsome young man of 
 thirty stepped up to the lecturer's table with a 
 roll of papers in his hand. He looked rather 
 pale, and there was a slight twitching at 
 the corners of his lips as he bowed to his 
 audience, after a few words of introduction 
 from the gray-haired chairman of the even- 
 ing. Then the buzz of conversation, which 
 had ceased for a few momeDts, began again. 
 
 He felt that he had a task before him, 
 that of stopping a gap in front of which an 
 eager crowd were ready to clamour for the 
 treat they had come to hear. Dr. Horace 
 North was nothing to them, and the young 
 students voted his paper a bore. 
 
 He began to read in a calm, clear voice,
 
 VB. NORTH GETS IN EOT WATER. 23 
 
 expounding his views, and the buzz of voices 
 increased as first one and then another page 
 was read and turned over, scarcely a word 
 being heard. 
 
 He stopped and poured out a glass of 
 water, and the carafe was heard to clatter 
 ao:ainst the o^lass as the lecturer's hand 
 trembled. 
 
 This was the signal for a titter, which was 
 repeated by some thoughtless student, as 
 the reading was resumed without the water 
 being tasted. 
 
 Then five minutes of painful reading 
 ensued, with the buzz of voices increasing. 
 
 There was a sudden stoppage, and all 
 were attentive. 
 
 For, with an angry gesture, the young 
 doctor rolled up his paj)ers, threw them 
 aside, and took a step forward. 
 
 " Gentlemen,'^ he cried, in a voice which 
 rang through the theatre, " I am addressing 
 you who in the conceit of youth believe that 
 there is little more to learn, and who have 
 treated my reading with such contempt." 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " cried the old chairman.
 
 24 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 Those two encouragino; words touched the 
 speaker, and, with a dramatic earnestness of 
 manner, he exclaimed : 
 
 '' I have not much to say, but it is the 
 result of years of study, and that you shall 
 hear." 
 
 Then, for the space of half-an-hour, in 
 fluent, forcible language, he poured forth 
 the result of his observations and belief that 
 they, the followers of the noble science of 
 surgery, had a great discovery before them 
 waiting to be made, one which it was the 
 duty of all to endeavour to drag forth from 
 the dark depths in which Nature hid away 
 her treasures. 
 
 He declared that death should only follow 
 upon old age, when the fruit was quite ripe, 
 and ready to fall from the tree of life. He 
 left it to the followers of medicine to attack 
 and conquer disease, so that plague and 
 pestilence should no longer carry off their 
 hecatombs of victims, and addressed the 
 surgeon alone, telling him that in case of 
 accident or after operation, no man of health 
 or vigour should be allow^ed to die.
 
 LE, XOETH GETS IX HOT WATER. 25 
 
 There was a half langh here, and a sneer 
 or two. 
 
 *•' I repeat it," cried the speaker. " No such 
 man should be allowed to die." Previous to 
 his accident he was in robust health, and his 
 apparent death was only, as it were, a trance, 
 into which he fell while Nature busily com- 
 menced her work of restoration, the building 
 up again of the injured tissues. How the 
 sustaining of the patient while Nature worked 
 her cure was to be carried out, it was the 
 duty of them all to discover, and for one he 
 vowed that he would not rest till the discovery 
 was made. 
 
 In the case of drowninsf it was often but 
 suspended animation. In the case of acci- 
 dent and apparent death, it would be the 
 same. Death by shock, he maintained, was 
 a blot upon the science of the present day. 
 Those who died by shock merely slept. 
 Such body was in full health and vigour, 
 and Nature would repair all damages by the 
 aid of man ; and he was convinced that the 
 time would come when surgeons would save 
 a hundred lives where they now saved one.
 
 26 TEE MAN WITS A SHADOW, 
 
 The speaker sat down amidst a whirlwind 
 of applause, for his manner, his thorough 
 belief, and his earnestness carried away his 
 audience ; and the result would have been 
 a most exciting discussion but for the inter- 
 vention of the chairman, who pointed to the 
 clock, and at once introduced the great sur- 
 geon, while a murmur ran through the 
 theatre as a large table was wheeled into 
 the centre of the building from behind a 
 curtain, and those present knew what the 
 draping of the table concealed. 
 
 A burst of applause greeted the grave, 
 gray-headed surgeon ; and as it ceased, he 
 expressed, in a few well-selected words, the 
 pleasure he had felt in listening to Dr. 
 Horace North, to whose theory he expressed 
 himself ready to pin his faith. 
 
 " Kudi I say this, gentlemen, for the reason 
 that I am here to-night — to point out to you 
 how great a stride can be made in surgery — 
 how much we have yet to learn." 
 
 Then, explaining in a calm, clear voice as 
 he went on, he turned back his sleeves, and 
 selected a Ion 2^, keen blade from a velvet-
 
 LB. XOETH GETS IX HOT WATER. 27 
 
 lined case, siofned to his assistants, and the 
 subject upon which he was to operate lay 
 there grim, cold, and ghastly. 
 
 Xo : not ghastly to the earnest men who 
 saw in it the martyr immolated to the 
 saving of thousands, as, with deft fingers 
 and unerring skill, the crreat surgreon made 
 his incisions ; and exemplifying step by step 
 each act and its reasons, he performed his 
 wonderful experiment to the last stroke ; 
 and then, having: finished, was about to 
 draw back when there was a volley of stones 
 upon door and window, and, amid the creak- 
 ing of woodwork and the tinkling of falling 
 glass, came the yelling of the virtuous mob — 
 
 " Yah ! " 
 
 And directly afterwards — 
 
 " Body-snatchers 1 Yah ! " 
 
 For a moment there was a stillness, as if 
 the audience in the lecture theatre had 
 been j)a'ralysed ; then there was a general 
 stampede towards the door, and a burst of 
 rage, excitement, and dread, as a voice 
 loudly announced that the mob had scaled 
 the wall and were in the yard — a tremendous
 
 28 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 volley of stones and brickbats endorsing the 
 announcement. 
 
 For a few minutes only one present 
 seemed to keep bis head, and that was the 
 old operator, who whispered a few orders to 
 his assistants, and with rapid action the 
 table, with its burden, was draped and 
 wheeled beyond the curtained arch from 
 which it had been drawn, the banging of ."^ 
 heavy door and the shooting of bolts following 
 directly after. 
 
 The beating of heavy sticks upon the 
 doors, the smashing in of the windows, glass 
 and wire-work giving way at every volley, 
 and the yelling of the mob, made a deafening 
 uproar, during which the old surgeon calmly 
 began returning his favourite operating knives 
 to their purple velvet-lined cases, locking 
 them up carefully, as he turned to Horace 
 North, who stood beside him, and said, with 
 a smile : 
 
 '' Now what have we done to deserve such 
 treatment as this ? " 
 
 " Yah ! Body-snatchers ! " came with a 
 burst of yells from without.
 
 BB. NORTH GETS IN HOT WATER. 29 
 
 " Done, sir ? " said the young doctor, flush- 
 in fj. " Toiled hard to discover means of alle- 
 viating pain and saving life. This is our 
 reward." 
 
 " Yes," said the old man, smiling, as he 
 patted his cases. '* My pets ; I shouldn't 
 like to lose them. Yes, sir, ignorance in 
 Christian England in the nineteenth cen- 
 tury 1 " 
 
 " Yah ! Body-snatchers ! " came again ; 
 and the howling and yelling mob were 
 evidently forcing their way in. 
 
 " Never mind them, Mr. North," continued 
 the old man. *' Let me see and hear from 
 you. I believe in your theory. You have 
 gone too far, my dear sir ; youth is sanguine. 
 You have aimed at the top of the mountain. 
 You wdll not get there, but to a good high 
 place, and I am proud to have met so clever, 
 vso talented a young man." 
 
 "Thank you, sir; thank you," cried 
 North, as the old man lowered his cases 
 into his pockets ; " but hadn't we better try 
 and get away ? " 
 
 " Try ? " said the old man. " I do not see
 
 30 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 how we can. The mob are arranging for 
 seizing by escalade." 
 
 " Yah ! Body-snatchers ! " came in a 
 fierce yell, louder, too, as it followed upon a 
 tremendous crash. 
 
 The irruption of the London '^ Yahoos " 
 had taken place, and they were pouring in, 
 headed by a fierce-looking, crop-eared, bullet- 
 headed ruffian, and the fight began. 
 
 Medical students can fight ; and upon this 
 occasion they used their fists scientifically 
 and well ; but the odds were against them. 
 The mob swept on, and the big ruffian and 
 a dozen companions made a dash over the 
 seats, treating them as they would those of 
 the gallery of a theatre on a night when 
 they wished to express their displeasure. 
 
 Before Horace North realised the fact, 
 they were upon the group by where the 
 operating table had stood, and close to an- 
 other table upon which were bottles, glasses, 
 basins, sponges, and a pestle and mortar. 
 
 The young doctor was borne back as the 
 yell — the war-cry, ^' Yah ! Body-snatchers ! " 
 — once more arose, and as he struggled with
 
 LR. XORTH GETS IN EOT WATER. 31 
 
 one scoundrel who tried to take venoreance 
 upon him by stealing his watch, he saw the 
 gray- headed old surgeon struck down by the 
 bullet-headed, butcher-like ruffian who led 
 the gang ; and the fellow was about to 
 follow up his attack by performing a war- 
 dance upon the defenceless old man. 
 
 He had not time, for Horace North lite- 
 rally flung himself upon the savage and drove 
 him from his prey, but only to be grasped in 
 turn by one whose greatest pleasure was 
 destruction, and whose unpleasant mouth 
 expanded into a satisfied grin as he bore 
 back the body of his weaker adversary, and 
 with it a good deal of the future of Mary 
 and Leo Salis linked in with that of half 
 the village of Duke's Hampton. 
 
 " Ah, would yer ! it's my turn now." 
 The vengeance of his class against what 
 he called a " swell."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SCIENCE AT WOEK. 
 
 HoEACE NoETH was more of the student 
 than the athlete, and he felt the blood rush- 
 ing to his head — a strange sensation of 
 vertigo which he could have aptly described 
 in writing, and thoroughly expressed, with all 
 due detail, the action going on by the com- 
 pression of certain veins and an artery. But 
 for a few moments, in the melee, he could do 
 nothing to free himself of the savage grip, 
 which threatened to injure him for life, if it 
 did not quite destroy. 
 
 But science is a fine backer of brute force. 
 A man with little muscle is the equal of a 
 ofiant when both are armed with sword or 
 pistol ; and could Horace North have brought
 
 SCIENCE AT WORK. 33 
 
 his science to bear in the shape of galvanism 
 or some anaesthetic, he would have had the 
 burly giant at his mercy instead of rapidly 
 losing his senses. 
 
 Galvanism was, however, not at hand, the 
 opportunity to administer a dose of ether or 
 chloroform was also wanting, and as one of 
 the young doctor's hands vainly grasped the 
 ruffian's sinewy wrist, the other fell nearly 
 nerveless upon the table against which he was 
 borne. 
 
 Here, fortunately, he found the much- 
 needed help of science in the shape of a pestle 
 of marble comfortably reposing in its native 
 mortar. 
 
 Horace North had often used a pestle in 
 peace ; he now used it in war, for his fingers 
 closed upon the wooden handle, the heavy 
 weapon described the arc of a circle, there 
 was a sounding rap, half an oath — barely that 
 — and the big rufiian fell all in a heap upon 
 the floor. 
 
 For a few moments Horace North felt 
 dazed, but the fighting instinct of the man 
 was now roused, and as a couple of the 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 TEE MAN WITS A SHADOW. 
 
 leader's friends came at him to avenge their 
 comrade's fall, one uttered a yell as the pestle 
 was dashed in his face, and the other a howl as 
 it came down with a crack upon his collar- 
 bone, both being rendered hors de combat, 
 while the doctor now bestrode the prostrate 
 body of the old surgeon, and kept the rest 
 at bay. 
 
 Just at this time there was a burst of 
 cheering, for the students were warming to 
 the fray and fighting shoulder to shoulder* 
 The mob, disheartened by their leader's fall, 
 began to give way. The atmosphere of the 
 lecture-hall was evidently too warm, and their 
 retrograde movement rapidly became a rout, 
 in which they were swept bodily out of the 
 place by door and window, too much governed 
 by the laws of self-preservation to think even 
 of those who were down. 
 
 Then, as the last scoundrel was driven out, 
 and a tremendous cheer arose from the victors, 
 a strong body of police marched into the hall, 
 well buttoned up and beautifully cool, to find 
 that the work was done — all save that of
 
 SCIENCE AT WORK. 35 
 
 marching off half-a-dozen dizzy, unwashed 
 savaores to the coolincr cell. 
 
 " Better, sir ? " 
 
 *' Eh ? Better ? Yes — a little contused. 
 Water ! Thank you. Yes ; better now. 
 Eather rough proceedings." 
 
 The old man looked round rather piteously, 
 till his eyes lighted upon the young doctor. 
 
 "x\h ! you, Mr. North. I remember now. 
 Thank you. Would you mind helping me to 
 my carriage ? I'm rather giddy." 
 
 The task was done : the old man beino- 
 helped to the hospital, and through it to a 
 private entrance, where his carriage was in 
 attendance, away from the crowd. 
 
 '' That's right. Come home with me, Mr. 
 North. I should like a few words with you, 
 if you would not mind." 
 
 Horace North gladly entered the carriage, 
 for he thought the old man not fit to go alone, 
 and in the excitement at the hospital no one 
 paid him the slightest attention. 
 
 "Now come to my room," said the old 
 man, as they w^ere set down at his residence 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 in Harley Street. ''Hurt? Ob, no! — a 
 trifle. I want to talk to you about your 
 plans. We'll liave a cup of coffee, a cigar, 
 and a chat." 
 
 That chat in the great surgeon's study 
 lasted till daybreak, and then Horace North 
 walked back to his hotel with his brain on 
 fire. For, with his ideas to a certain extent 
 endorsed by the great authority he had just 
 quitted, he saw himself on the eve of a grand 
 discovery, one which should immortalise his 
 name and benefit his fellow-creatures to a vast 
 extent. 
 
 " It is like taking a plunge into the un- 
 known," he cried, as he walked hurriedly on, 
 excited beyond measure. For Horace North 
 was like the rest of the world — blind as to 
 what would happen. Had he been otherwise, 
 he would have buried his secret thoughts for 
 ever sooner than have faced that which was 
 to come.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PARSON SALIS TAKES OFF HIS COAT. 
 
 MaPvY Salis was wrong, for her headstrong, 
 passionate sister was ready to do whatever 
 she pleased, and what pleased her then was 
 to obey the summons contained in the note 
 Dally ^Yatlock delivered to her that morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Her brother's face grew stern and hard as 
 he walked on, to see from time to time small 
 footprints in the soft track, for a southerly 
 wind and a cloudy sky proclaimed it a hunt- 
 ing morning. No dry wind had hardened 
 the path, and Hartley Salis felt convinced 
 that he knew his sister's goal. 
 
 In half-an-hour he reached Red Cliflf 
 Wood, the great patch of ancient oaks on
 
 38 TEE MAN WITE A 8EAD0W. 
 
 the Candlisli estate tliro-ugli which the best 
 trout-stream in the shire — the one which 
 flowed through the Eectory meadows and 
 down at the bottom of the Manor House 
 garden — meandered. 
 
 His path was along by the stream, which 
 here and there showed upon its bank the 
 same traces of a pair of little feet, whose 
 high-heeled boots left deep imprints ; and 
 Hartley Salis grew more stern as he walked 
 on toward the depths of the wood, where 
 the great mass of ruddy stone cropped out 
 to give its name to the place, and form, as 
 it overhung the stream, a glorious fernery, 
 ever moist with the water that oozed from 
 the strata from foot to top. 
 
 A dozen yards farther and there was a 
 low whinnying noise, w^hich came from a 
 handsome sorrel hunter, secured by the 
 bridle to a ragged old oak bough. 
 
 Not an unpleasant picture in that glorious 
 old mossy wood, but sufficient to make 
 Hartley Salis set his teeth, grip his stick 
 tightly, and stride rapidly on to a green 
 path a little farther away, where another
 
 FABSON SALIS TAKES OFF BIS COAT. 39 
 
 picture met his gaze — to wit, his sister Leo 
 with her back to him, and that back en- 
 circled by a broad scarlet band, which, on 
 closer inspection, took the form of the arm 
 of a well-built man in hunting-coat and top- 
 boots. 
 
 Hartley Salis walked swiftly toward the 
 group, the soft, mossy ground silencing his 
 approach, till he trod upon a piece of rotten 
 branch, which broke with a loud crack. 
 
 The couple started apart and turned to 
 face the intruder, when Leo uttered a gasp 
 of mingled shame and ano^er, and staofojered 
 back against a tree, leaving her brother face 
 to face with Tom Candlish of the Hall. 
 
 For a few moments neither spoke, and then 
 as the young man in scarlet got over his sur- 
 prise, he half closed his dark eyes, and a 
 mocking smile curved his lip. 
 
 "So it has come to this," said the curate 
 at last, speaking in a low voice full of sup- 
 pressed anger. 
 
 " Hallo, parson ! You here ? Coming to 
 the meet ? " said the young man, half mock- 
 ingly.
 
 40 TBE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " After what has passed between us '^ 
 
 "Oh, come, that'll do," cried the young 
 man insolently. "Do you suppose you have 
 a right to begin preaching at me every time 
 you see me ? " 
 
 '*Do you suppose, sir," cried the curate, 
 still mastering his anger, 'Hhat you, because 
 your father was the great land-holder here,, 
 have a right to persevere with what I have 
 expressly forbidden ? " 
 
 " Confound your insolence, sir ! Don't 
 speak to me like that. What the deuce do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " What do I mean, sir ? 1 mean this — and 
 I beg that you will not ado23t that bullying 
 tone toward me." 
 
 " Bullying tone I You shall find something 
 else besides a bullying tone if you interfere 
 with me ; " and as the young man spoke he 
 gave his hunting-whip a flourish. 
 
 The curate's cheeks flushed, and his brow 
 contracted with anger ; but he maintained 
 his calmness as he continued : 
 
 "You asked me what I mean. I mean 
 this : I, as their elder brother, and a clergy-
 
 PARSON SALTS TAKES OFF BIS COAT. 41 
 
 man of the Church of England, occupy the 
 post of guardian to my two orphan sisters. 
 They are happy in their life with me at the 
 old Eectory, and I naturally look with 
 serious eyes at the man who tries to tamper 
 with that happiness. I should feel troubled 
 if a o^entleman came to the house in a 
 straightforward, honourable way, and said to 
 me, * Sir, I love one of your sisters ; I ask 
 your permission to visit at your house ; give 
 sanction to the eno-a^ement ; ' but w^hen " 
 
 " Oh, if you are going to preach, I'm off. 
 Finish it on Sunday." 
 
 The curate's colour grew deeper as he 
 stepped before the young man, and stopped 
 his departure. 
 
 " I am not going to preach, sir ; but I am 
 going to make you hear what I have to say." 
 
 '' Make ? " 
 
 **Yes, sir, make, in spite of your insults. 
 You are the brother of the chief man in this 
 village, and I am only the curate ; but you 
 are to a certain extent under me ; and now 
 you have driven me to it, I am, I repeat, 
 going to make you hear w^hat I have to say.''
 
 42 TBE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Oh, are you ? '^ mockingly. 
 
 "Yes. I say, wlien instead of approach- 
 ing my sister in an honourable way, a man 
 who is noted for his blackguardly conduct 
 toward more than one poor girl in this vil- 
 lage '' 
 
 "Look here, parson, is this meant as an 
 insult ? " 
 
 " Comes to my house, and is re- 
 quested to cease his visits, and then lays 
 siege to the affections of one of my sisters in 
 a cowardly, contemptible, clandestine fashion, 
 I say, that man is unworthy of the treatment 
 I should accord to a gentleman, and calls 
 for that which I would give to some low- 
 lived cad." 
 
 " Here, I say," cried Tom Candlish fiercely ; 
 'do you mean to tell me I am not your 
 sister's equal ? " 
 
 " I tell you, sir, that no one who makes 
 himself the associate of betting men, race- 
 course touts, and low-lived jockeys is the 
 equal of the lady you have named, while 
 one who, in opposition to my wishes, insists 
 upon writing to the weak, foolish girl, and
 
 PAB80N SALIS TAKES OFF HIS COAT. 43 
 
 persuades her to meet him as you have done, 
 merits a sound castigation." 
 
 " Once more, do you mean to tell me, I 
 am not your sister's equal ? " 
 
 ''I do ; and no amount of repentance, sir, 
 for your ill-deeds would make you so." 
 
 *'Look here!" cried the young fellow, 
 "you've been talking to me like a man 
 sometimes, and then you've been dodging 
 into your clerical jargon again. I've lis- 
 tened to you pretty patiently, and have 
 borne more than I should from any one else 
 because you are a parson ; but you've gone 
 too far, and now it's my turn. If Leo " 
 
 " Miss Leonora Salis, sir." 
 
 " If Leo tells me she won't have any more 
 to say to me, I shall go ; but as for you — 
 hark here. I shall write to her, I shall meet 
 her, and I shall ask her to meet me just as 
 often as I please. Not her equal, I ! Why, 
 you miserable, beggarly, hundred-a-year, 
 threadbare curate, how dare you address me 
 as you do ? Do you know who I am ? " 
 
 "Yes : Tom Candlish, brother of Sir Luke 
 Candlish, of Candlish Hall."
 
 44 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 ** Yes, sir, descendants of one of our finest 
 English families." 
 
 "Descendants, sir," retorted the curate, 
 **of a miserly, money-spinning old scoundrel, 
 who gave impecunious James I. so many 
 hundred pounds for a contemptible baronetcy, 
 which has come down to one of as disgrace- 
 ful a pair as ever sat like a blight upon a 
 pleasant English village." 
 
 " You insolent hound ! " roared Tom 
 Candlish ; " I'll ride over to May and have 
 you kicked out of your curacy." 
 
 " Do," said the curate. 
 
 *' No, I won't, for Leo's sake. But, look 
 here, master parson, don't you interfere with 
 me, or, by God, sir ! I'll give you the most 
 cursed horsewhipping I ever gave man in my 
 life. By George ! if it wasn't for your white 
 neck-cloth and black coat, hang me, I'd do 
 it now." 
 
 He extended one hand, as if to grasp the 
 curate's collar, and raised his hunting-whip 
 menacingly ; but in an instant it was whisked 
 out of his hand, and sent flying. 
 
 "You object to my white tie and black
 
 PARSON SALTS TAKES OFF HIS COAT. 45 
 
 coat, eh, Tom Candlish ? " said the curate, 
 rapidly throwing them off and across a 
 neighbouring oak branch ; " there, then, for 
 the time being they shall not afflict your 
 eyes or ])\it me out of your reach. Now 
 then, we are on equal terms. Strip off that 
 scarlet coat, you miserable popinjay." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Tom Cand- 
 lish, turning mottled in the face. 
 
 '' I mean, sir, that words are no use to 
 such a scoundrel as you : that a curate is 
 also a man. In this case he is the lady's 
 brother, and in addition there are a score of 
 insults to wipe away. Take off your coat." 
 
 " What ! " cried Tom Candlish, with a 
 sneering laugh. " Look here — do you know 
 that I can fight?" 
 
 "I know you were in a blackguardly 
 prize-fight, sir, in a ring where your oppo- 
 nent was a sort of champion of the Bilston 
 colliers." 
 
 "Yes, so put on your coat and go home 
 while you're safe." 
 
 "And I know^ that I have not clenched 
 my fist in anger, sir, since I left Oxford,
 
 46 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 twelve years ago ; but if you had beaten 
 Tom Sayers it would not move me now. 
 One of us two does not leave this wood 
 without a sound thrashing, and, please good- 
 ness, that's going to be you." 
 
 The Keverend Hartley Salis, M.A., rapidly 
 rolled up his shirt-sleeves over his white 
 arms ; while it was observable that the 
 nearly new scarlet hunting-coat worn by 
 handsome Tom Candlish, of Candlish Hall, 
 came off very slowly, possibly on account of 
 its excellent fit.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE doctor's patients WAXT HIM AT HOME. 
 
 " Ah ! Horace, old man, back again ? " 
 
 *' Yes. I should have come on sooner, 
 
 but I Hallo ! gloves ! Why, what's the 
 
 matter with your hands ? " 
 
 *' Oh ! nothing. Eubbed the skin off my 
 knuckles. That's all.'' 
 
 " Humph ! " said the curate's visitor — 
 Horace North ; and there was a curious 
 twinkle in his eyes. " I say, I should have 
 been over sooner, but I found a letter from 
 Luke Candlish, askino- me to o-q across to 
 the Hall, as his brother was unwell." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the curate quietly. 
 
 "Went over and found the squire nearly 
 drunk. He's killing himself fast."
 
 48 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " They're a nice pair," said the curate 
 grimly. 
 
 " More sharae for you to say so," cried 
 North. *' They're your moral patients. You 
 ought to improve them." 
 
 " Yes," said the curate drily. 
 
 " The squire was sober enough, though, to 
 tell me that his brother had had a nasty 
 accident — was going to the meet yesterday, 
 when his horse bolted with him, and some- 
 how raced off into Ked Cliff Wood, where 
 Tom was only able to check him right up at 
 the top there, where the beast threw him 
 and he fell crashiug down from the top of 
 the cliff to the bottom." 
 
 "Into the stream?" said the curate quietly. 
 
 " No ; I didn't hear anything about the 
 stream," said the doctor. " I went up and 
 found him swearing at one of the maids 
 because she was putting a poultice on his 
 right eye too hot. Then he began to swear 
 at me for not coming sooner. That raised 
 my dander, and I told him I'd give him a 
 dose that would keep him in bed for a month 
 if he wasn't civil."
 
 THE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT HIM. 49 
 
 *' Yes ? " 
 
 " Well, then he cooled clown and sent the 
 maid away." 
 
 ''Yes?'' 
 
 *' And I went to work. He has had one of 
 the most curious falls I ever met with in 
 practice. His eyes are closed up — beautiful 
 pair of black eyes ; lip cut ; right canine 
 tooth in upper jaw broken short off; several 
 contusions on the lower jaw ; rib broken ; 
 and the skin off his knuckles. — Been doing 
 anything to your bees ? " 
 
 " Bees ? What, this time of year ? No. 
 Why ? " 
 
 " Cheek looks a little puffy. Curious fall 
 that of Tom Candlish. Looked more like 
 having been in another prize-fight. Let me 
 see your knuckles." 
 
 " No ; they're all right. Don't humbug, 
 Horace, old man. You've guessed it. I gave 
 him a most awful thrashing." 
 
 '* Bless you, my son ! " cried the doctor, 
 clapping him on the shoulder. 
 
 " And I feel miserable at having disgraced 
 myself so." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Church militant. Thrashed 
 a confounded scoundrel. But what for ? 
 He has never had the insolence to ? " 
 
 He gave his head a short nod towards the 
 drawiog-room. 
 
 "Yes, and There, I caught them 
 
 together. He has been sending notes to her 
 to meet him. I w^as in a passion, and he 
 insulted me ; and — and " 
 
 " You pitched into the scoundrel, and 
 you've given him the loveliest thrashing a 
 man ever deserved. My dear Sails, you've 
 done one of the grandest deeds of your life." 
 
 " I'm a clergyman, and I've behaved like 
 a blackguard." 
 
 "Nonsense! There's only one drawback 
 to what you have done." 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 " Did it when I was not there to see the 
 fun. Why, it's glorious." 
 
 " I shall never forgive myself." 
 
 " Then I'll forgive you. Why, you soft- 
 hearted old parson, you know you cannot 
 touch him and his rascal of a brother with
 
 TEE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT HIM. 51 
 
 words, and you know that they are the 
 curses of the neighbourhood." 
 
 " No reason for me to give way to temper, 
 and degrade myself." 
 
 '* Degrade your grandmother, sir ! You've 
 treated them as the Irish priests treat their 
 flocks. Metaphorically given Tom Candlish 
 the stick. It was your duty, sir, and there's 
 an end of it." 
 
 " No ; I'm afraid there's not an end to it. 
 He threatens to go to May." 
 
 ''Bah!" 
 
 "And to lay my conduct before the 
 bishop." 
 
 " And goes to bed and pretends his horse 
 threw him. Get out, you old humbug ; you'll 
 never hear another word." 
 
 *' I, who wish to live at peace with all 
 men, have made a deadly enemy." 
 
 *' Pooh ! He's a wind-bag. You've taken 
 the right course, and nipped that aflfair in 
 the bud. Does Leo know of it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And Mary ? " 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of HUNflB
 
 52 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '' Not a word, so be careful — hist ! some 
 one coming." 
 
 '* May I come in ? " said a sweet, musical 
 voice. 
 
 " Come in ? Yes/' said the young doctor^ 
 leaping up to throw open the door, and greet 
 Mary Salis with a frank smile and so hearty 
 a shake of the hand that she had hard 
 work not to wince. *' There, don't come 
 nearer ; I smell of London smoke and blacks. 
 Thank goodness, I'm back home." 
 
 *' The place does not seem the same with- 
 out you," said Mary, going behind her 
 brother's chair, to stand with her hands 
 resting upon his shoulders. 
 
 " I don't know about the place, but I 
 know I do not feel the same out of it. 
 Must go sometimes, though, to pick up a 
 few facts, or one would be left behind. Did 
 you go to the house ? " 
 
 *' Yes, and found Mrs. Milt very busy." 
 
 ^' Bless her ! Nice game she has had, 
 Salis. General clear up, and my study 
 turned upside down. Seen old Moredock ? " 
 
 *' Yes, went yesterday," said the curate.
 
 TEE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT HIM. 53 
 
 *' The old man was lying down, and fretting 
 because you were away. Said he knew he 
 should die before you returned." 
 
 " Stuff. He'll live to a hundred ; but I'll 
 go and see the old boy. There, now you're 
 laughing," he said, turning to Mary; **now, 
 don't say Mrs. Berens has been ill and 
 wanted me." 
 
 " Why not ? " said Mary, with her pleasant 
 face lighting up, and a slight flush coming 
 into her soft cheeks. "I told you the place 
 did not seem the same without you." 
 
 "Mrs. Berens met me twice, and sighed 
 large sighs," said the curate, laughing. " Hah ! 
 I wish they'd all be as anxious about their 
 souls as they are about their bodies." 
 
 ** And they're not, old fellow ? " said the 
 doctor. 
 
 *' No. I begin to wish you were out of 
 the place, North, for yoa are my hated rival." 
 
 "Hartley!" said Mary reprovingly. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed the doctor. 
 *' Jealous. Never mind, old fellow. It'll 
 all come right in the end. There, can't stop. 
 I've no end to do."
 
 54 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 "But how did you get on in London?" 
 
 ''Splendidly. Horribly. No end of ad- 
 ventures. Tell you all about it when I 
 come again. Must see patients now. Must 
 wind up old Moredock, and set him going 
 again, or no bells, no clock, and no ' Amens ' 
 on Sunday." 
 
 '' "Well, we could do without the last," said 
 the curate, smiling. " Going to see Mrs. 
 Berens ? " 
 
 The doctor made a comical grimace. 
 
 *'Must," he said ; "but, 'pon my word, I 
 always feel ashamed to charge for my visits. 
 She's as well as you are. Miss Salis." 
 
 " But she's always better when you've 
 been to feel her pulse," said the curate, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Get out ! " cried the doctor merrily. 
 
 *' I say. North, don't be shabby." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Don't slip off, and be married in 
 London. Have it here, and let me get 
 my fees." 
 
 *' Now, beware," said the doctor, shaking 
 his fist playfully. '' I never have slain a
 
 THE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT EBL 55 
 
 man wilfully ; but if you tempt me there's no 
 knowing what I may do when I have you 
 stretched helpless in bed." 
 
 '^I defy you," cried the curate, laughing. 
 ** See how guilty he looks, Mary." 
 
 " Hartley ! " said Mary reprovingly, and 
 she pressed his shoulder. 
 
 " Now that proves it," said the doctor. 
 " Go to, thou miserable impostor ! Have I 
 not seen the fair, plump, sweet widow smiling 
 softly on thee ? Have not I heard her 
 sigh over her soup when you have been laying 
 down the law at dinner ? " 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense ! " said the curate, 
 frowning. 
 
 **And have I not seen her look grave 
 when you came to firstly in your Sunday 
 sermon ; take out her scent-bottle at secondly ; 
 lean back in rapt adoration at thirdly ; 
 and when it got to ninthly begin to shed 
 tears, shake her head softly, and look as 
 if she were mentally saying, ' Oh, what a 
 sermon we have had.' " 
 
 " I say, North, don't banter," said the 
 curate, with a half- vexed expression.
 
 56 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Why, you hit me first. Didn't he, Miss 
 Salis ? " 
 
 Mary nodded. 
 
 " There, sir. Judged by our fair Portia 
 herself. But I must go. Good-bye, old 
 fellow. Chess to-night ? " 
 
 ''By all means," said the curate. 
 
 " Here or there 1 " 
 
 *' Oh, come on here," cried the curate ; and, 
 with a kindly message for Leo and a hearty 
 shake of the hand to each, the doctor hurried 
 away. 
 
 " I am glad he's back," said the curate 
 seriously. '* Aren't you, Mary ? " 
 
 "Very," she replied. "We miss our 
 friends." 
 
 '' Yes, and he is a good old fellow as ever 
 stepped ; so frank, so manly, and straight- 
 forward. I don't know what the poor 
 people here would do if he were to leave." 
 
 " You don't think he will leave ? " said 
 Mary anxiously. 
 
 " Leave ? Not he. He likes his old home 
 too well. I say, though, seriously, dear, you 
 don't think he cares for Mrs. Berens ? "
 
 TEE DOCTOR'S PATIENTS WANT HIM. 57 
 
 *' Oh, no, Hartley," said Mary, with a 
 confident smile. " I am sure he thinks of 
 nothing but his profession." 
 
 " Exactly. I often think the same, but I 
 often wish something." 
 
 " What, dear ? " said Mary earnestly. 
 
 " That he had taken a fancy to Leo. It 
 w^ould have been a happy day for me to 
 have seen her with such a protector for 
 life." 
 
 " Yes," said Mary softly. ''He is a true 
 gentleman at heart." 
 
 " Why, Mary," cried the curate enthu- 
 siastically, " he never takes a penny of any 
 of the poor folk, and he works for them like 
 a slave. The nights I've known him pass 
 at a sick bedside. Well, thank God, we have 
 such a man here." 
 
 ** Amen," said Mary softly. 
 
 " There's Leo," said the curate, as she was 
 seen to pass down one of the paths of the 
 garden. " Mary, my child, if that could be 
 brought about, it would be her saving, and 
 make me a happy man." 
 
 Mary rested her hands more firmly upon
 
 58 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 her brother's shoulder, and turned to watch 
 her sister ; and, as she did so, her sweet, 
 pensive face grew more grave and her 
 brother's was averted, so that he could 
 not read its secret, neither did he hear the 
 sigh that softly rose as her eyes were suffused 
 with tears.
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 DR. XORTH VISITS THE SEXTON. 
 
 "Nonsense, Hartley, she is as quiet as a 
 lamb." 
 
 'Tm not so sure of that," said the curate, 
 who looked rather anxiously at a hand- 
 some, weedy gray cob just led round to the 
 front. 
 
 His sisters were standing ready to go 
 and make a call, and his brow wrinkled a 
 little as he noted a peculiar fidgety expression 
 about the mare's ears. 
 
 " Why, Hartley, how foolish you are ! " 
 cried Leo. "You stop indoors reading till 
 you are as nervous as Mrs. Berens." 
 
 " Eh ? Yes. Well, I suppose I am," said 
 the curate good-humouredly. " But be care-
 
 60 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 ful ; I'm always a little uncomfortable about 
 strange mares. Will you have an extra rein ? '' 
 
 " Absurd ! '' said Leo. " There, you shall 
 be humoured. Tell him to buckle it lower 
 down." 
 
 The girl looked very handsome and ani- 
 mated, and, since the scene in the wood 
 with Tom Candlish, had been so penitent 
 and patient that her brother had shrunk 
 from checking her in any way. 
 
 The mare had duly arrived, and, appa- 
 rently bending to her brother's will, Leo 
 had patiently seen it put in harness — de- 
 graded, as she called it — and as it went very 
 well they were going on the present morn- 
 ing drive. 
 
 Hartley Salis tried to hide his anxiety, 
 and turned to chat with Mary, who looked 
 rather pale — the consequence of a headache, 
 as she said ; and as he talked he felt more 
 and more between the horns of a dilemma. 
 
 Mary did not want to go, he knew. He 
 did not want her to go, but, paradoxical as 
 it may sound, he did want her to go. For 
 choice he would have gone himself; but he
 
 BE. NORTH VISITS THE SEXTON. 61 
 
 knew that if he did Leo would look upon it 
 as distrust — not of her power to manage 
 the new mare, but of her word. For she 
 had as good as promised him that she would 
 see Tom Candlish no more, and he felt that 
 he was bound to show in every w^ay possible 
 that he enjoyed a confidence that he really 
 did not feel. With Mary to bear Leo com- 
 pany he knew that she was safe, and even 
 that would bear the aspect of espionage ; 
 but the girl had accepted the position, and 
 they were ready to start. 
 
 The trio w^ere on their way to the gate 
 when the new mare uttered a loud w^hinnying 
 noise w^hich was answered from a distance. 
 There was the sound of hoofs, and directly 
 after North trotted up. 
 
 Mary drew" a deep breath, and her ner- 
 vousness in connection w-ith her ride was 
 killed by one greater, which forced her to 
 rouse all her energies, so as to be calm 
 durinor the cominor encounter. 
 
 ''Morning," cried the doctor merrily, as 
 he shook hands w^ith all in turn. *' Going 
 to try the new mare ? "
 
 62 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *^ Yes," said the curate eagerly, while Leo 
 was quiet and distant, and Mary her own 
 calm self. *' What do you think of her ? " 
 
 The doctor, who, like most country gentle- 
 men who keep a nag, considered himself a 
 bit of a judge, looked the mare over, and 
 grew critical. 
 
 *' Well bred,'' he said, at the end of a few 
 moments. 
 
 *' Oh ! I am glad," said Mary, eager to 
 break the chilly silence that prevailed. 
 
 " I meant by descent," said the doctor 
 merrily. " I don't know how she behaves." 
 
 " Oh ! " ejaculated Mary, in a disappointed 
 tone, while Leo looked on scornfully. 
 
 " But she seems quiet ? " said the curate 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Ye — es," replied the doctor dubiously, as 
 he continued his examination. '*Kather a 
 wicked look about one eye." 
 
 *' Don't, pray. Dr. North," said Leo petu- 
 lantly. " My brother is quite fidgety enough 
 about the mare. She is of course a little 
 more mettlesome than our poor old plodding 
 horse ; but a child might drive her."
 
 BU. NORTH VISITS THE SEXTON. 63 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course," said the doctor, in a 
 tone which seemed to say, " But I would 
 not answer for the consequences." Then 
 aloud : " Bit swollen about that hock. May 
 mean nothino*. Nice-lookincc little thino^, 
 Salis." 
 
 " I'm glad you like her," said the curate 
 eagerly. 
 
 '* I did not say I liked her, old fellow," 
 replied North. ** I said she was well 
 bred." 
 
 "But you don't think she is dangerous 
 for ladies ? " 
 
 ''Oh, Hartley! How absurd!" cried 
 eo. 
 
 " Dangerous ? surely not," said the doctor. 
 '' Have tried her yourself, of course ? " 
 
 "Well, no," replied the curate. *' I have 
 been so busy : but the man has driven her 
 several times." 
 
 "And says she goes very quietly," said 
 Leo pettishly. " Hartley never has any con- 
 fidence in my driving." 
 
 " Indeed, yes," said the curate, smiling at 
 his sister affectionately. " I know that you
 
 64 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 drive well, and are a clever horsewoman. I 
 am only anxious about your driving a strange 
 horse." 
 
 '* But Leo will be very careful," said 
 Mary, interposing to end a scene which was 
 agony to her. " I am quite ready, Leo." 
 
 " Yes, let's go," said the latter. ^^ Hartley 
 wants to sell you the horse at a profit, 
 Dr. North," she added banteringly. *' Good 
 morning all." 
 
 The curate said no more, but handed his 
 sisters into the light low phaeton, Leo taking 
 the reins in the most business-like manner 
 before mounting, and then sitting upright 
 on the raised seat in a way that would have 
 satisfied the most exacting whip. 
 
 The mare started ofi" at a touch, with her 
 neck arched and her head well down, the 
 wheels spinning merrily in unison with the 
 sharp trot of the well-shaped hoofs. 
 
 " An uncommonly pretty little turn-out, 
 old fellow," said the doctor, as he sat in the 
 saddle watching critically till the chaise 
 turned the corner ; " and your sister drives 
 admirably."
 
 DB. XOBTH VISITS THE SEXTON. 65 
 
 " Yes," said the curate rather dolefully ; 
 *' she drives like she rides." 
 
 " And that's better than any lady who 
 follows our pack of hounds," cried the doctor. 
 " Now, if I had been anything of a fellow, I 
 should have cantered along by their side, 
 and shown myself oflP." 
 
 "You would," assented the curate; and 
 his countenance seemed to say, ^'I wish you 
 bad." 
 
 " But, there, I am not anything of a 
 fellow, and I have patients waiting, so here 
 o'oes." 
 
 He pressed his horse's flanks, and went 
 off in the other direction at a trot, while the 
 curate, with his troubled look increasing, 
 walked into the house. 
 
 " I suppose the mare's Cjuite safe," he 
 said ; " and it pleases her. May take her 
 attention off him. Poor Leo ! It is very 
 sad." 
 
 Meanwhile the doctor continued his wav 
 till he reached the stocks — a dilapidated 
 set, as ancient-looking as the whipping-post 
 which kept them company, and both dying 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 THE MAN WITH A SEABOW, 
 
 their worm-eaten death, as the custom of 
 using them had died generations before. 
 
 But they had their use still, the doctor's 
 horse stopping short by them, as if he knew 
 his goal, and his master dismounting, and 
 throwing his rein over the post before enter- 
 ing a low cottage, with red tile sides and 
 thick thatch roof. The door was so low 
 that he had to stoop his head to enter a 
 scrupulously clean cottage room, with uneven 
 red brick floor, brightly-polished stove, with 
 a home-made shred hearthrug in front, and 
 for furniture a well-scrubbed deal table, a 
 high Windsor chair, a beautifully - carved 
 old oaken chest or coffer, and a great, old- 
 fashioned, eight-day clock, whose heavy pen- 
 dulum, visible through a glazed hole in its 
 door, swung ponderously to right and said 
 chich ! and then to left and said chack ! 
 
 Empty as the old room was in one respect 
 it was full in another, and that was of a 
 faint ancient smell of an indescribable nature. 
 It was not very unpleasant ; it was not the 
 reverse ; but it had one great peculiarity — to 
 wit, that of exciting a desire on the part of a
 
 Bn. XOBTH VISITS THE SEXTOX. G7 
 
 visitor to know what it was, till his or her eye 
 rested upon the occupant of the tall armed 
 Windsor chair, in which sat Jonadab Moredock, 
 clerk and sexton of Duke's Hampton, when 
 the idea came that the strange ancient odour 
 must be that of decay. 
 
 " Well, old chap, how are w^e this morn- 
 ing ? " said the doctor cheerily. 
 
 The red-eyed, yellow-skinned, withered 
 old man placed his hands on the arms of his 
 chair, raised himself an inch or two, o-ave his 
 head a bob, and subsided again, as he shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Bad, doctor — mortal bad ; and if you 
 goes away again like that you'll find me dead 
 and buried when back you comes." 
 
 " Nonsense, Moredock ; there are years 
 upon years of good life in you yet." 
 
 " Nay, doctor, nay," moaned the old 
 fellow. 
 
 '' But I say yes. Why, you're only ninety." 
 
 " Ninety-three, doctor — ninety-three, and 
 'most worn out." 
 
 *' Nonsense ; there's a deal of work to be 
 got out of you yet. Had your pipe ? " 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE MAN WITR A SHADOW. 
 
 *' Pipe ? No. How can a man have a 
 pipe who has no tobacco ? " 
 
 "Ah well, never mind," said the doctor, 
 *' I've brought you some physic." 
 
 "Then I won't take it," cried the old man 
 angrily. " I won't take it, and I won't pay 
 for it, not a penny." 
 
 " Wait till you're asked," said the doctor 
 drily, as he threw a packet of tobacco in the 
 old fellow's lap. " There's your medicine. 
 Now say you will not take it if you dare." 
 
 The old man's red-rimmed eyes twinkled 
 at the sight of the shredded-up weed, around 
 which his hand closed like the claws of a 
 hawk. Then rising slowly, he took down 
 from the chimneypiece a curious-looking old 
 tobacco - box, which seemed as if it had 
 been hammered out of a piece of sheet lead, 
 and began to stuff the tobacco in. 
 
 *' Where did you get that leaden box,. 
 Moredock ? " said the visitor. 
 
 " I — I made it," said the old man, with a 
 furtive look. 
 
 " Made it ! I thought as much. Coffin 
 lead, eh ? "
 
 LR. NORTH VISITS THE SEXTOX. 69 
 
 " Xever you mind about that, doctor. I 
 found the lead when I was dio^grino-." 
 
 •' And did you find that oak chest when 
 you were diororin gr vou old rascal ? '' 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay, that's nowt to do wi' 
 you, doctor. Physic's your business, and not 
 bits o' furnitur' in people's houses." 
 
 '•'Ah, well, we won't quarrel about that, 
 Moredock ; only I've taken a fancy to that old 
 chest. I'll buy it of you." 
 
 " Nay, you won't, doctor ; it isn't for 
 sale." 
 
 '•' Then leave it to me in your will." 
 
 " Nay, and I shan't do that. It's for my 
 grandchild, Dalily, who's up yonder at the 
 Eectory, you know — her as had the measles 
 when she was seventeen." 
 
 '' Ah, yes, I know — the dark-eyed, rosy- 
 cheeked hussy. Lucky girl to inherit that 
 chest." 
 
 " Ay, but I don't know as she'll get it, 
 doctor. Hussy ! Yes, that's it. That's what 
 she is, and if I see her talking to young 
 Squire Luke Candlish's brother, Tom Cand- 
 lish, ao-ain, she shan't have the chest."
 
 70 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Then Til set Tom Candlisli to talk to lier 
 agaio, and then you'll leave it to me." 
 
 " Na}', you won't, doctor. I know you 
 better than that. But he's a bad 'un. So's 
 the squire. They're both bad 'uns. I know 
 more about 'em than they think, and if 
 Squire Luke warn't churchwarden, I could 
 say a deal." 
 
 *' And you will not ? " said the doctor. 
 '' Well, I must be going. I say, though, did 
 you get me that skull ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay," said the old man, shak- 
 ing his head, as he lit his pipe, and began 
 smoking very contentedly, with his eyes half 
 closed. " I couldn't get no skulls, doctor. It 
 would be sackerlidge and dessercation, and as 
 lonoj as I'm saxton there shall be nothino: of 
 that kind at Duke's Hampton. Bowdles doos 
 it at King's Hampton : but no such doings 
 nere. 
 
 '' But I want it for anatomical purposes, 
 my good man." 
 
 " Can't help it, sir. I couldn't do it." 
 
 ''Now what nonsense; it's only lending 
 me a bone."
 
 BB. NORTH VISITS TEE SEXTON. 71 
 
 '' You said sell it to you," said the old 
 man sharply. 
 
 ^'Well, sell it. I'll buy it of you." 
 
 "Nay, nay, nay. What would Parson 
 Salis say if I did such a thing ? He'd turn 
 me out of being saxton, neck and crop." 
 
 *' Ah, well, I won't worry you, old fellow ; 
 and I must o^o now." 
 
 o 
 
 "Nay, don't go yet, doctor," cried the old 
 man querulously. " You haven't sounded me, 
 nor feeled me, nor nothino:." 
 
 " Haven't I given you some comforting- 
 medicine ? " 
 
 ^' Yes, doctor ; bit o' 'bacco does me 
 good ; but do feel my pulse and look at 
 my tongue." 
 
 " Ah, well, let's look," said the doctor, and 
 he patiently examined according to rote. 
 " It's Anno Domini, Moredock — Anno 
 Domini." 
 
 " Is it, now, doctor ? Ah, you always did 
 understand my complaint. If it hadn't been 
 for you, doctor " 
 
 " We should have had a new sexton at 
 Duke's Hampton before now, eh ? "
 
 72 TRE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 '*Yes, doctor," said the old man, with a 
 shudder. 
 
 " Well, without boasting, old chap, I 
 think I did pull you through that last 
 illness." 
 
 *' Yes, doctor, you did, you did ; and don't 
 go away again. You were away seven days — 
 seven mortal days of misery to me." 
 
 **0h, but you're all right," said the doctor, 
 looking curiously at the old man. 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay. I thought I should have 
 died before you come back, doctor ; that I 
 did." 
 
 "But you're better now." 
 
 " Yes, I'm better now, doctor. I feel safer- 
 like, and I've got so much to do that I can't 
 afford to be ill." 
 
 " And die ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay ; not yet, not yet, not yet, 
 doctor ! " 
 
 *' Ah, well, I'm glad I do you good, More- 
 dock ; but I think you might have lent me 
 that skull." 
 
 "You said sell, doctor,'^ cried the old 
 man.
 
 DB. XORTH VISITS THE SEXTOX, 73 
 
 " Of course I should have paid you. But 
 I suppose I must respect your scruples." 
 
 " Ay, do, doctor, and come oftener. Anno 
 Domini, is it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " 'Tain't a killing disease, is it, doctor ? " 
 
 " Indeed but it is, old fellow. But, there, 
 I'll come in now and then and oil your works, 
 and keep you going as long as I can." 
 
 "Do, doctor, do, please. I shall feel so 
 much safer when you've been." 
 
 " All right. Good-day, Moredock." 
 
 "Good-day, doctor," said the old man, 
 gripping his visitor's arm tightly with a hook- 
 like claw. 
 
 "Good-day; and if you do overcome your 
 scruples, I should like that skull. It would 
 be useful to me now." 
 
 The old man kept tightly hold of his 
 visitor's arm, and hobbled to the door to 
 look out, and then, still gripping hard at the 
 arm, he said in a strange, cachinnatory way, 
 as he laid down his pipe : 
 
 " He-he-he ! hi-hi-hi ! I've got it for you, 
 doctor."
 
 74: TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *' What ? The skull r' 
 
 " Hush ! Of course I have ; only one 
 must make a bit o' fuss over it. Sackerlidge 
 and dessercation, you know." 
 
 "Oh! I see." 
 
 " I wouldn't do such a thing for any one 
 but a doctor, you know. Anno Domical 
 purposes, eh ? " 
 
 '* You're getting the purpose mixed up 
 with your disease, Moredock," said the doctor, 
 as the old man took out a key from the pocket 
 of his coat, and, after blowing in it and tap- 
 ping it on the table, prior to drawing a pin 
 from the edge of his waistcoat and treating 
 the key as if it were a periwinkle, he crossed 
 to the old oak coffer. 
 
 " Just shut that door, doctor," he said. 
 *' That's right. Now shove the bolt. Nobody 
 aren't likely to come unless Dally Watlock 
 does, for she always runs over when she aren't 
 wanted, and stops away when she is. Thankye, 
 doctor." 
 
 He stooped down, looking like some 
 curious old half - bald bird, to unlock the 
 chest, and then, after raising the lid a short
 
 BE. NORTH VISITS THE SEXTON. 75 
 
 distance, in a cunningly secretive way, he 
 thrust in one arm, and brouo^ht out a dark- 
 looking human skull. 
 
 *' Ha ! yes," cried the doctor, taking the 
 grisly relic of mortality in his hands. '' Yes, 
 that's a very perfect specimen ; but it's a 
 woman's, evidently. I wanted a man's." 
 
 " You said sell you a skull," said the old 
 man angrily. *' You never said nowt about 
 man or woman." 
 
 ''No. It was an oversight. There, never 
 mind." 
 
 *' Ay, but I do mind," grumbled the old 
 man. " I like to sadersfy my customers. 
 Give it me back." 
 
 " But this will do." 
 
 '* Nay, nay, nay ; it won't do," cried the 
 old man peevishly. '' Give it to me." 
 
 The doctor handed back the skull, and the 
 old man hastily replaced it in the coffer, hesi- 
 tated a few moments, and then brought out 
 another skull. 
 
 " Ah ! that's right," cried the doctor 
 eagerly; "the very thing. How much?" 
 
 ** Nay, nay, nay ; I'm not going to com-
 
 76 . THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 mit sackerlidge and dessercation. I can't 
 sell it." 
 
 " But you are not going to give it to 
 me ? " 
 
 '' Nay ; I only thought as you might put 
 anything you like on the chimbleypiece." 
 
 "I see,'' said the doctor, smiling, and 
 placing a small gold coin there, the old 
 man watching eagerly the while. '' But I 
 say, Moredock, how many more have you 
 got in that chest ? " 
 
 " Got ? — there ? " said the old man sus- 
 piciously. " Oh ! only them two. Nothing 
 more — nothing more." But the next instant, 
 as if won over to confidence in his visitor, 
 or feeling bound to trust him, he screwed 
 up his face in a strange leering way. and 
 opened the coffer wide. 
 
 " You may look in," he said. '' You're a 
 doctor, and won't tell. They're for the 
 doctors." 
 
 *' Your customers, eh ? " 
 ''Customers?" said the old man sharply; 
 '' who said a word about customers ? " 
 
 *' You did. So you deal in those things ? "
 
 LB. XORTH VISITS TEE SEXTOX. 77 
 
 *' No, no ; not deal in 'em. I find one 
 sometimes — very old — very old. Been in 
 the earth a mort o' years." 
 
 As he spoke he watched the doctor curi- 
 ously while he inspected the specimens of 
 osteology in the oak chest. Then, taking 
 up a tin canister from the bottom, he gave 
 it a shake, the contents rattling loudly, and 
 upon opening it he displayed it half full of 
 white, sound teeth. 
 
 ''Dentists," he said, with a grin, which 
 showed his own two or three blackened 
 fangs. " They uses 'em. False teeth. People 
 thinks they're ivory. So they are." 
 
 " Why, Moredock, what a wicked old 
 wretch you are," said the doctor. *' I don't 
 wonder you feel afraid to die." 
 
 " Wicked ? No more wicked than my 
 neicj-hbours, doctor. Everv one's afraid to 
 die, and wants to live longer. Wicked ! 
 How could I save a few pounds together, to 
 keep me out o' the workus when I grows 
 old, if I didn't do something like this ? " 
 
 "Ah, how indeed?" said the doctor, look- 
 ing half-wonderingly at the strange old being.
 
 78 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 ''And my grandcliild, Dalily, up at the 
 Kectory. Man must save — must save. Be- 
 sides, it's doing good." 
 
 '' Good, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes," said tlie old fellow, with a hideous 
 grin. " Lots o' them never did no good in 
 their lives, and maybe they're thankful now 
 they're dead to find that, after all, they're 
 some use to their fellow-creatures." 
 
 "Ah! Moredock, people are always ready 
 to find an excuse for their wronef-doins:. 
 Seems to me that I ought to expose you up 
 at the Eectory." 
 
 '' Nay, you won't tell the parson, doctor ? " 
 said the old man, with a chuckle, 
 
 "No, I shall say nothing, Moredock." 
 
 " No, doctor, you can't. You're in it. You 
 set me to get that for you." 
 
 " There, stop that confounded laugh of 
 yours, and take this quietly to the Manor 
 House to-night. Shall you be well enough ? " 
 
 "Have — have you got any more o' that 
 Hollands gin, doctor ? " whispered the old 
 man, with a leer. 
 
 "About another glassful, I dare say."
 
 T>B. NORTE VISITS THE SEXTON. 79 
 
 "Then I shall be well enough to come, 
 doctor. Nobody shall see what it is. And 
 look here : you keep me alive and well, and 
 you shall have anything you want, doctor. 
 Parson's master in the church, but I'm 
 master outside, and in the tombs, and in 
 the old Candlish morslem. Like to see in 
 it, doctor ? " 
 
 " Pah ! not I. See enough of the miser- 
 able breed alive without seeing them dead. 
 Good-morning." 
 
 He remounted his horse, and rode out of 
 the village by the main road, to draw rein 
 at a pretty ivy-covered villa, whose well-kept 
 garden and general aspect betokened wealth 
 and some refinement. 
 
 *' Mrs. Berens at home ? " he asked, as the 
 drag at a bell sent a silvery tinkle through 
 the house. 
 
 The neat maid-servant drew back with a 
 smile, and the doctor entered, and was shown 
 into a pretty drawing-room, where he stood 
 beating his boot with his riding-whip, and 
 looking scornfully at the ornaments, lace, and 
 gim cracks around.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A FRESH PATIENT. 
 
 "I ALWAYS feel like a fly," the doctor mut- 
 tered — " a fly alighted upon a spider's web. 
 The widow wants a husband. I wish some 
 one would snap her up." 
 
 '*Ah! doctor — at last," said a pleasant 
 voice, which sounded as if it had passed 
 through swan's-down, while a strong odour 
 of violets helped the illusion. 
 
 "Yes, at last, Mrs. Berens," said the 
 doctor, taking the extended, soft, white hand 
 of the pleasant, plump lady of eight-and- 
 thirty or forty, whose whole aspect was sug 
 gestive of a very pretty, delicate-skinned baby 
 grown large. "Why, how w^ell you look." 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! "
 
 .4 FRESH PATIENT. 81 
 
 " Indeed you do. Why, from your note 
 I was afraid that you were seriously ill." 
 
 " And I have been, doctor. In such a 
 low, nervous state. At one time I felt as if 
 I should sink. But " — with a sio^h — " I am 
 better now." 
 
 The ladv waved her kerchief towards a 
 chair, and seated herself upon an ottoman, 
 where, in obedience to the suggestion, she 
 once more laid her hand in the doctors firm 
 white palm, wherein Jonadab Moredock's 
 gnarled, yellow, horny paw had so lately 
 lain ; and as the strong fingers closed over 
 the delicate white flesh, and a couple glided 
 to the soft round wrist, the patient sighed. 
 
 **'0h, doctor, I do feel so safe when you 
 are here. It would be too hard to die so 
 Youno^." 
 
 The doctor looked up quickly. 
 
 "Now that's wicked," said the lady re- 
 proachfully, " because I said ^ so young.' 
 Well, I'm not quite forty, and that is young. 
 Is my pulse very rapid ? " 
 
 " No, no. A little accelerated, perhaps. 
 You seem to have been frettins^." 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '^Yes, that's it, doctor. I have," said 
 the lady. 
 
 " What a fool I am ! " he said to himself, 
 as he released the hand. Then aloud : " I 
 see, I see. Little mental anxiety. You want 
 tone, Mrs. Berens." 
 
 "Yes, doctor, I do," she sighed. 
 
 " Now what should you say if I prescribed 
 a complete change ? " 
 
 " A complete change, doctor ? " said the 
 lady, whose pulse was now certainly accele- 
 rated. 
 
 " Yes. That will be better than any of 
 my drugs. A pleasant little two months' 
 trip to Baden or Homburg, where you can 
 take the waters and enjoy the fresh air." 
 
 "Oh, doctor, I could not go alone." 
 
 " Humph ! No. It would be dull. Well, 
 take a companion. Why not one of the 
 parson's sisters? Mary Salis — or, no," 
 he added, quickly, as he recalled certain 
 family troubles that had been rumoured. 
 " Why not Leo Salis ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, doctor," said the lady, with a 
 decisive shake of the head. I don't think
 
 A FllESR PATIEXT. 83 
 
 ]\Ii.-ss Leo Salis and I would ^et on tooretlier 
 lono;.'' 
 
 "The other, then," said the doctor. 
 
 " Xo, no. Prescribe some medicine for 
 me. 
 
 *'But you don't want medicine." 
 
 *' Indeed, doctor, but I do. Ill take any- 
 thing you like to prescribe." 
 
 *' But " 
 
 '•' Now, doctor, I am low and nervous, and 
 you must humour me a little. I could not 
 bear to be sent away. I should feel as if I 
 had o-one over there to die." 
 
 ** When I guarantee that vou would come 
 back strong and well ? " 
 
 '•' No, doctor, no. You must not send me 
 away. Deal gently with me, and let me 
 stop in my own nest. Ah, if you only knew 
 my sufferings." 
 
 Dr. Horace North felt as if he fully knew, 
 and was content to stand off at a distance, 
 for though everything was extremely lady- 
 like and refined, and there was a touch of 
 delicacy mingled with her words, he could 
 not help interpreting the meaning of the 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 widow's siojhs and the satisfied look of 
 pleasure which caaie over her countenance 
 w^hen he was at hand to feel her pulse. 
 
 " I do know your sufferings," he said 
 gravely, '' and you may rely upon me to 
 bring any little skill I can command to bear 
 upon your complaint. Think again over the 
 idea of change." 
 
 *' Oh, no, doctor," said the lady quickly. 
 " I could not go." 
 
 "Ah, w^ell, I will not press you," he said, 
 rising. " I'll try and prescribe something 
 that will give vou tone." 
 
 " You are not going, doctor," said the lady, 
 in alarm. '' Why, you have only this moment 
 come." 
 
 *' Patients to see, my dear madam." 
 
 " No, it is not that. I w^orry you with my 
 complaints. I am very, very tiresome, I own." 
 
 '* Nonsense, nonsense," said the doctor ; 
 " but really I must hurry away." 
 
 " Without seeing my drawings, and the 
 books I have had down from town ! Ah ! I 
 am sure I bore you with my murmuring. A 
 sick woman is a burden to her friends."
 
 A FBESH PATIENT. 85 
 
 ** If some one would only fetch me away 
 in a hurry, I'd bless him," thought the 
 doctor. 
 
 *' There are times, doctor, when a few 
 words of sympathy would make me bear 
 my lot more easily, and " 
 
 '' Wheels, by George ! " exclaimed the 
 doctor. 
 
 " If you only knew " 
 
 "There's something bolted." 
 
 *•' The dead vacancy in my poor heart." 
 
 "A regular smash if they don't look 
 out. AYoa, Tom! Steady, my lad!" cried the 
 doctor, opening the French window and 
 stepping out on to the lawn. 
 
 " Doctor, for pity's sake," sobbed Mrs. 
 Berens, in anguished tones. 
 
 The patient's voice was so ^ pitiful that 
 the doctor could not resist the appeal, and 
 though called as it were on both sides, he 
 stepped rapidly back into the little drawing- 
 room in time to catch the fainting widow in 
 his arms. 
 
 Unfortunately for poor Mrs. Berens, who 
 had for long felt touched by the young
 
 86 TBE MAN WITH A SEABOW. 
 
 doctor, a lady in distress, mental or bodily, 
 or both, was always a patient to Dr, North, 
 and he only retained her in his arms just 
 long enough to lower her down in a corner 
 of a soft couch, before rushing out of the 
 window and throuo^h the o-ate, where his 
 tied-up horse was snorting and kicking. 
 
 The poor brute had cause, for the rapid 
 running of wheels and beat of hoofs were 
 produced by Hartley Salis's phaeton and the 
 new mare, which came down the road at a 
 frantic gallop, with Mary clinging to the 
 side of the vehicle, pale with dread, and 
 Leo, aj)parently quite retaining her nerve, 
 seated perfectly upright in her place, but 
 unable to control the mare, one rein havinof 
 given way at the buckle hole, and a pull at 
 the other being so much madness. 
 
 They had come along for quite a mile at 
 a headlong pace, till n earing Mrs. Berens' 
 house, Leo caught sight of the doctor s cob, 
 which pricked up its ears and began to rear 
 and plunge. 
 
 To have kept on as they were meant a 
 collision, and there was nothing left now for
 
 A FEESH PATIENT. 87 
 
 the driver to do but draw gently upon the 
 sound rein. 
 
 The pull given was vain, and a sharp one 
 followed, just in time to make the half- 
 bred mare swerve and avoid the doctor's cob ; 
 but the consequence was that the fore wheel 
 of the phaeton caught a post on the other 
 side of the road. There was a crashing sound, 
 a wild scream, and the cause of the accident 
 went off at a more furious pace than ever, 
 with the shafts dangling and flying about 
 her legs. 
 
 " Hurt ? No, not much," cried the doctor, 
 half lifting Leo from the grass at the side of 
 the road ; and hurrying to where Mary lay 
 staring wildly, entangled among the fragments 
 of the chaise. 
 
 '* My poor child ! " he cried. " Oh, this is 
 
 bad work. Try and Here ! Miss Leo — 
 
 Mrs. Berens. Water — brandy — for Heaven's 
 sake, quick ! "
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW I DO HATE THAT GIRL ! " 
 
 " Oh ! my poor darling ! " 
 
 It was Mrs. Berens who spoke ; the 
 accident, and its consequent call upon her 
 for aid, having in an instant swept away 
 all thought of self, and shown her at once 
 in her best colours, full of true womanly 
 sympathy. 
 
 Leo stood leaning against the hedge, dazed 
 and perfectly helpless, while Mrs. Berens 
 came running out to help ; but only to rush 
 m asrain and return with a decanter and 
 water. 
 
 " Is she — is she " 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered the doctor sternly ; 
 *'try and pour a few more drops between
 
 ''HOW I BO HATE THAT GIBLf' 89 
 
 her lips, and keep on bathing her forehead 
 till I get her out." 
 
 Mrs. Berens was down upon her knees on 
 one side of Mary Salis, with her hands and 
 delicate dress bedabbled with blood ; but 
 she did not heed the dust or hideous stains 
 as she passed her left arm beneath the poor 
 girl's neck, and held her with her cut and 
 bruised face resting upon her bosom, while 
 the doctor tore hard at the crooked wood- 
 work and iron which held the sufferer pinned 
 down. 
 
 " Leo Salis," said the doctor impatiently, 
 " if you're not hurt, don't stand dreaming 
 there, but run off to the village for help." 
 
 Leo stared at him wildly for a moment or 
 two, and then walked hastily away, holding 
 her left wrist in her right hand, as if she 
 were in pain. 
 
 " Hah ! That's better," cried the doctor, 
 as he set one foot against a portion of the 
 iron-work, and pulled with all his might, 
 his effort being followed by a loud cracking 
 noise, and the iron bent. "Now, Mrs. 
 Berens, I think we can lift her out."
 
 90 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 '' Yes ; let me help," cried the widow 
 energetically, and seeming quite transformed 
 as she assisted in bearing the inanimate girl 
 into the drawing-room. 
 
 " Quick, Mary, pillows," she cried ; and 
 her round-eyed, helpless maid ran upstairs, 
 to return with the pillows, by whose aid 
 Mary Salis was placed in a comfortable 
 position. 
 
 Without its beinoj suo;2:estecl, Mrs. Berens 
 herself fetched basin, sponge, and towels, 
 with which the blood and dust were re- 
 moved, the widow colourimx once hio^hlv 
 as the doctor awarded her a word of praise. 
 
 '* Cut in the temple. Hair will cover it," 
 said the doctor, as he rapidly dressed the 
 insensible girl's injuries. "Nasty contusion 
 there on the cheek — slight abrasion." 
 
 " Will it disfigure her, doctor ? " said Mrs. 
 Berens anxiously. 
 
 " Oh ! no — soon disappear." 
 
 "What a comfort," sighed the widow, 
 who evidently believed that a young lady's 
 face was her fortune. '' Is she much hurt, 
 doctor ? "
 
 ''HO^V I no RATE THAT GIELf' 91 
 
 " No ; I am in hopes that she is only 
 suffering from the concussion. That bleed- 
 ins: has been orood for her. She is comino- 
 round," 
 
 ''Poor darling!'"' cried Mrs. Berens, ten- 
 derly kissing Mary's hand. 
 
 *' You're an uncommonly good, useful 
 woman, Mrs. Berens," said the doctor 
 bluntly. " I didn t think you had it in you." 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! " she cried. 
 
 " Spoilt your dress and lace too. But, 
 never mind, it will bring her round. Ah ! 
 that's better; she's coming to.' 
 
 "Is she?" 
 
 The doctor pointed to the quivering lips, 
 as the next minute there was a wearv^ sio-h, 
 and Mary Salis opened her eyes to gaze 
 wildly round, and then made an effort as if 
 to rise, but she only raised her head and let 
 it fall back with a moan. 
 
 ''Are you in pain ?" said the doctor, as he 
 took her hand. 
 
 She looked at him wildly, and a faint 
 colour came into her cheek as she whispered 
 hoarsely :
 
 02 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Yes. Send — for a doctor." 
 
 " He is here, my poor dove," cried Mrs. 
 Berens. " Don't you know him — Dr. North ? "' 
 
 " Yes ; but send — for some one — a doctor.'^ 
 
 " A little wandering," whispered North, 
 bending over Mary, who tried to shrink 
 from him. '^ Now," he said gently, " try 
 and tell me where you feel pain. I must 
 see to it at once." 
 
 " No, no. Don't touch me — a doctor — 
 send for a doctor," answered Mary. 
 
 " But Mr. North is a doctor, my poor 
 dear," cried Mrs. Berens. 
 
 ''Send — for a doctor," whispered Mary 
 again ; and then she uttered a faint cry of 
 indignation and dread commingled as, think- 
 ino' of nothing but the case before him, the 
 doctor began to make the necessary pre- 
 liminary examination, to stop short at the 
 end of a minute, and lay his hand upon the 
 patient's forehead, aghast at the discovery 
 he felt that he had made. 
 
 " Don't resent this," he said kindly. 
 " Believe me, it is necessary, and I will not 
 give you more pain than I can help."
 
 "now I no HATE TEAT GIRL!" 93 
 
 " Mrs. Berens," sobbed the poor girl, 
 ••' your band." 
 
 " My darling ! "' cried the widow, taking 
 the extended hand, to hold it pressed against 
 her lips. 
 
 " Now, Miss Salis," said the doctor, '' I 
 ■want you to move yourself gently — a little 
 more straight upon the couch." 
 
 She looked at him strangely. 
 
 *' Now, please," he said. ''' It will be an 
 easier position." 
 
 But still she did not move. 
 
 " Did you try ? " he said rather hoarsely. 
 
 " Yes — I tried," she said faintly ; and 
 then the flush deepened in her face again, 
 as the doctor bent over the couch, and 
 changed the position in which she lay. 
 
 '' Did I hurt vou ? " he said. 
 
 '* No. Did you move me 1 " she faltered ; 
 -and Mrs. Berens looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 'Must a trifle," he said gravely. ''Ah! 
 Iiere's Salis." 
 
 There was a quick step outside, and the 
 curate rushed in, followed more slowly by 
 Leo, who looked ghastly.
 
 04 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *•' Mary, my dear cliild," he cried, throwing 
 himself upon his knees beside his sister, 
 " are you much hurt ? " 
 
 " I think not, Hartley, dear," she replied, 
 with a smile. "My head is not so giddy 
 now/' 
 
 *' Oh ! what a madman I was to let you 
 go," he cried. 
 
 ** Hush, dear ! It was an accident," said 
 the poor girl tenderly. ''I shall soon be 
 better. You are hurtiog Leo. She suffers 
 more than I." 
 
 " That cursed mare, North. She looked 
 vicious. How w^as it, Leo ? " 
 
 *' She pulled, and one of the reiDS broke," 
 said Leo hoarsely. '* There would have been 
 an accident with any horse." 
 
 "Yes, yes, of course," said Mary faintly; 
 " and I am very sorry, Hartley. The chaise 
 — the expense. Thank dear Mrs. Berens, 
 and now let me try and walk home." 
 
 ''No, no, my dear," said Mrs. Berens, 
 " you must not think of going. Stay here, 
 and be nursed. I'll try so hard to make you 
 well."
 
 "HOW I LO HATE THAT GIRLf' 95 
 
 ** I know you would/' said Mary gently ; 
 "but I shall be better at home. Leo, dear, 
 help me up. No, no, Hartley ; I did not 
 want to send you away. I'm better now." 
 
 She made an effort to rise, as the doctor 
 looked on with eager eyes awaiting the result, 
 at which his lips tightened, and he glanced 
 at Mrs. Berens. 
 
 For Mar}' Salis moved her hands and 
 arms, and slightly raised her head, but let 
 it fall again, and looked from one to the other 
 wildly, as if her perplexity were greater than 
 she could bear. 
 
 Hartley Salis caught his friend by the 
 wrist, and then yielded himself, and followed 
 the doctor as he moved from the room. 
 
 "North, old fellow," he said, in an eager 
 whisper, " what does that mean ? Is she 
 much hurt ? " 
 
 "Try and bear it like a man, Salis. It 
 may not be so bad as I fear, but I cannot 
 hide from you the truth." 
 
 " The truth ! Good heavens, man, speak 
 out ! " 
 
 " Hush ! She is too weak from the shock
 
 96 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 to bear it now. Let her learn it by degrees, 
 only thinking at present that she is nerveless 
 and stunned," 
 
 " But you don't mean Oh, North ! " 
 
 cried the curate, in agony. 
 
 " Salis, old friend, it would be cruel to 
 keep back the truth," said the doctor, taking 
 his hand. *' It may not be so bad, but I fear 
 there is some terrible injury to the spine." 
 
 *' Good heavens ! " cried Salis wildly ; 
 " that means paralysis and death." 
 
 " Let's hope not, old friend." 
 
 " Hope ! " cried the curate wildly. " How 
 has that poor girl sinned that she should 
 suffer this ? " 
 
 At that moment the truth had come home 
 to Mary Salis that her injury was terrible 
 in extent, and she lay there gazing wildly at 
 her handsome sister, but seeing beyond her 
 in the long, weary vista of her own life a 
 helpless cripple, dragging her way slowly 
 onward towards the end. 
 
 Then there was a low, piteous sigh, and 
 Mrs. Berens came quickly to the door.
 
 ''HOW I DO HATE THAT GIRL!" 97 
 
 "Doctor," she whispered, "come back. 
 Fainted ! " 
 
 North hurried back into the room, to 
 find Mary Salis lying back, white as if cut 
 in marble, while her sister stood gazing at 
 her in silence, making no movement to be 
 of help. 
 
 **How I do hate that girl!" he muttered, 
 as he went down on one knee by the couch. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DR. NOETH SEES A WHITE MARK. 
 
 Patient never had more assiduous attention 
 than Mary Salis received from Dr. North. 
 He had formed his oj)inions about her case, 
 but insisted upon having further advice, and 
 Mr. Delton — the old savant of the lecture — 
 was proposed. 
 
 " I'm afraid he will want a heavy fee, 
 Salis," said North; '*but you ought to make 
 a sacrifice at a time like this, and his opinion 
 is the best." 
 
 '^Any sacrifice; every sacrifice," said the 
 curate. " Send for him at once." 
 
 Mr. Delton came down and held a con- 
 sultation with North. 
 
 He seated himself afterwards by Mary's
 
 BE. NORTH SEES A WHITE MABK. 99 
 
 couch, where she, poor girl, lay, flushed, and 
 suffering agony mentally and bodily, conse- 
 quent upon this visit. 
 
 But when the gray-headed old man took 
 her hand between both his, and sat gazing 
 in her eyes, those eyes brimmed over mtli 
 tears. The fatherly way w^on upon her, and 
 she said softly, as she clung to him : 
 
 " Tell me the worst." 
 
 He remained silent, gazing at her fixedly 
 for some time, but at last he raised and 
 kissed her hand. 
 
 " I will speak out," he said gently, " be- 
 cause I can read in your sweet young face 
 resignation and patience. To another, per- 
 haps, I should have preached patience and 
 hope ; to you I feel that it would be a 
 mockery, and I only say, bear your misfortune 
 by palliating it with the work your intellect 
 will supply." 
 
 "Always to be a cripple, doctor — a help- 
 less cripple ? " she moaned. 
 
 " My child, your life has been spared. 
 Patience. What seems so black now may 
 appear brighter in time. You have those 
 
 H 2
 
 100 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 you love about you, and there is the faint 
 hope that some day you may recover." 
 
 " Faint hope, doctor ? " 
 
 " I must say faint, my child. And now 
 good-bye. I shall hear about you from our 
 friend North. I congratulate you on having 
 so able a friend. You may trust him im- 
 plicitly. Good-bye." 
 
 He raised her hand to his lips — a very 
 unprofessional proceeding, but it did not seem 
 so to Mary, as she lay there and watched 
 the bedroom door close. 
 
 " Trust him ? Yes," sighed Mary, as she 
 lay with her hands clasped, thinking of 
 Horace North's many kindly attentions to 
 his patient. " Yes, to his patient ! " she 
 said bitterly. " A hopeless cripple ! Oh, 
 God, give me strength to bear it without 
 repining. Good-bye, good-bye, my love — my 
 love ! " 
 
 There was a little scene going on in the 
 dining-room at the Kectory, for in spite of 
 Mrs. Berens' protestations, Mary Salis had 
 been carried home. 
 
 The curate had thanked the old surgeon
 
 BR, SOUTH SEES A WHITE MARK. 101 
 
 for comiDor do^vn, and the old man had 
 nodded, to stand thoughtfully, hat in hand, 
 ofazino; out of the window with Salis. 
 
 " A very sad case, Mr. Salis — a very sad 
 case. So young and innocent and sweet." 
 
 "Then there is no hope, sir?" said the 
 curate hoarsely. 
 
 " Of her recrainins: her strenorth, sir ? 
 Very little. But of her recovering sufficiently 
 to lead a gentle, resigned, patient life, yes. 
 You are a clergyman, sir. I need not preach 
 to you of duty. Ah, Mr. Xorth, what about 
 the train ? " 
 
 ''One moment, sir," said the doctor, in- 
 terrupting the whispered conversation he was 
 holdinp[ with the curate. 
 
 The next minute he had asked the great 
 surgeon a question, and received a short 
 decisive answer, which was communicated 
 to Salis. 
 
 '' But, my dear sir," he said, in remon- 
 strance, " I have brought you down here on 
 professional business. I am not a rich man, 
 but still not so poor that " 
 
 " My dear Mr. Salis, I am a rich man,"
 
 102 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 said the old surgeon, smiling, '* and partly 
 from my acquaintance with Dr. North, 
 partly from the pleasure it has given me to 
 meet your sweet sister, I feel so much interest 
 in her case that I must beg of you not to 
 spoil a pleasant friendly meeting by in- 
 troducing money matters. No, no ; don't be 
 proud, my dear sir. I possess certain know- 
 ledge. Don't deprive me of the pleasure of 
 trying to benefit Miss Salis." 
 
 " He's a fine old fellow as ever breathed," 
 said North, returning to the Eectory, after 
 seeing the great surgeon to the station. 
 
 '* A true gentleman," said the curate sadly. 
 *' How can I ever repay him ? " 
 
 " He told me — by helping your poor sister 
 to get well." 
 
 '* Ah ! " sighed the curate ; *' it is a terrible 
 blow." 
 
 '' Terrible," acquiesced North. " But she'll 
 bear it, sir, ten times better than I her sister 
 Leo would. By the way, I haven't seen 
 her." 
 
 '^ No ; I have just been asking about
 
 BB. XOBTH SEES A WHITE MABK. 103 
 
 her. The scene was too painful for her, 
 poor girl, and she went out so as to be 
 away." 
 
 "Oh ! " said North quietly ; and then to 
 himself : '' I can't bear that girl ! " 
 
 Just as he spoke he saw Leo Salis enter 
 the meadow gate after her walk, and soon 
 after she came into the room, looking per- 
 fectly quiet and composed. 
 
 " What does the London doctor say ? " she 
 asked, after shaking hands with North. 
 
 ''Don't ask, Leo," said the curate, with a 
 groan. 
 
 " Poor Mary ! " said Leo, with a sigh, but 
 she did not seem stirred. There were no 
 tears in her eyes, and she might have been 
 making inquiry about the health of some 
 parishioner. 
 
 So North thought. 
 
 '•' I'll go up and sit with her now, Hartley," 
 she said quickly, and turned to leave the 
 room, when Horace North's eyes became 
 fixed upon a white mark at the back of the 
 young girl's sleeve — a mark which looked
 
 104 THE MAN WITH A 8HAV0W. 
 
 exactly as if her arm had been held by some 
 one wearing a well pipe-clayed glove. 
 
 The next moment the young girl, the dark 
 sleeve, and the white mark had passed from 
 Horace North's sight, and soon after from 
 his mind.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE DOCTOR PRESCRIBES. 
 
 " There, my dear, I shall give you up now," 
 said North one day, about three months 
 after the accident. ** Ah ! you look bad ! " 
 
 Mary was downstairs, lying back in an 
 easy-chair, and she coloured slightly, and 
 there was a faint gathering of wrinkles 
 on her white forehead at his easy-going, 
 paternal way. 
 
 '* Yes," said Mary. *' Do advise him, 
 doctor. He is far from well." 
 
 '' Yes ; he's a bad colour," said North 
 bluffly. 
 
 " Hadn't you better suggest that I should 
 be painted ? " said the curate tartly. 
 
 "Another bad sign," said North, with a
 
 106 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 good-tempered look at Mary. "He talks 
 to his old friend in that way. Bile, Miss 
 Salis— bile." 
 
 "It's bother, not bile," cried the curate 
 sharply. " I beg your pardon, old fellow." 
 
 ''Granted. But what's the matter ? " 
 
 "Everything. I'm troubled about the 
 church matters. The squire is rector's 
 churchwarden, and somehow we don't get 
 on." 
 
 " That's a wonder," said the doctor drily. 
 
 "Then, I'm in trouble with the rector." 
 
 "Why, what's he got to say for himself? 
 He's nearly always in London, so as to be 
 within reach of his club. It isn't time for 
 him to come down and give us another of 
 his sermons, is it ? " 
 
 " No. It isn't about that." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "Oh! nothing." 
 
 " Come, out with it ! " 
 
 The curate glanced at Mary, who shook 
 her head slightly, but he went on. 
 
 "The fact is, old fellow. May takes 
 upon himself to write me most unpleasant,
 
 THE DOCTOR PBESCBIBES. 107 
 
 insolent letters. He learns from some mis- 
 chief-making body that Leo hunts, and I 
 never hear the last of it." 
 
 ** Humph! Why not put a stop to it, 
 and sell the mare ? " 
 
 The curate shook his head. 
 
 '' I don't like her," said the doctor. "She'll 
 be getting your sister into some fresh scrape." 
 
 " Don't talk like that, man. She has done 
 mischief enouo^h. What nonsense ! Leo can 
 do anything she likes with her now." 
 
 " Glad to hear it ; and now I want to do 
 what I like with you." 
 
 "So you do," said the curate good- 
 humouredly. 
 
 "Not quite. You're horribly snappish. 
 Sure sio'n of beinor a little out of order. I 
 shall prescribe for you." 
 
 " Do," said Salis grimly, " and I'll take 
 the medicine and poison some one else 
 with it." 
 
 "No need; plenty of people are doing 
 that. Now, look here, you worry yourself 
 too much about everyday matters." 
 
 " Nonsense ! "
 
 108 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *' It is quite true, Mr. North," said Mary, 
 smiling. 
 
 " There, sir, yon hear. Then you don't 
 take enouo^h exercise." 
 
 *' Indeed, but I do. I spend half my time 
 going about." 
 
 "Visiting the poor," cried the doctor. 
 " Harassing yourself with other folks' troubles, 
 and listening to endless stories of worrv." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. North, quite true." 
 
 " What nonsense, Mary ! " cried the curate 
 piteously. " I must do my duty." 
 
 '* Of course, my dear sir, so do it ; but 
 don't overdo it. Kecipe " 
 
 ''I won't take it," said the curate. 
 
 "Miss Salis here shall make you, sir. 
 Kecipe : * One good cigar or two pipes of 
 bird's-eye per diem, and three hours to be 
 spent in gardening or fishing every day.'" 
 
 Mary's eyes brightened in forgetfulness of 
 her own trouble as she rejoiced in the advice 
 oiven to her brother. 
 
 " It's all rubbish, North. I've no time to 
 give to fishing or gardening. As to the 
 cigar, I might manage that."
 
 THE DOCTOR PBESCRIBES. 109 
 
 "Pills no use without the draught," said 
 the doctor. 
 
 " But you a doctor, and prescribe tobacco 
 — a poison ! " 
 
 " Does people good to poison them a little 
 when they're out of order." 
 
 "But May grumbles as it is, and is never 
 satisfied. What will he say if he hears of 
 my smoking, and pottering about with a 
 tishing-rod ? " 
 
 "Tell May to mind his points at whist 
 and leave us alone. There, I must be ofi". 
 Take my advice, too, about the mare. I 
 shall always hate her for the injury she did to 
 poor Miss Salis here. Good-bye, both of you." 
 
 " Stop a minute," said the curate. " What 
 about yourself ? " 
 
 " Well, w^hat about myself ? " 
 
 " The great idea — the crotchet — the 
 cr 
 
 " Well, say it — the craze, man I Every 
 inventor is considered a lunatic till his 
 invention w^orks. Wait, my dear fellow — 
 wait. I may astonish you yet. Good-bye, 
 Miss Salis."
 
 110 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 He shook hands, and left the Rectory 
 parlour with Salis, the saddle creaking loudly 
 as he mounted and then rode away. 
 
 " Good fellow, Horace," sighed the curate, 
 " but only fit for a West End practice, among 
 people with plenty of time and money. I 
 fancy myself smoking on the river bank, 
 throwing flies and pitching in ground bait. 
 It's absurd ! " 
 
 " Poor Miss Salis ! " said Mary to herself, 
 as she repeated the doctor's sympathetic, pity- 
 ing words ; and it w^as forced upon her more 
 and more plainly in what light he regarded 
 her. She was his patient — nothing more. 
 No ; this was unjust, for he always treated 
 her most warmly — as a friend — almost as a 
 sister. 
 
 But her old hopes and aspirations seemed 
 to be dead for ever, without promise of revival. 
 
 At that moment the curate returned. 
 
 ^' Poor Leo ! he said. " I could not do 
 that," as he again thought of how attached 
 she had become to the mare, and how the 
 handsomxC little creature had seemed to divert 
 her attention from the past.
 
 THE DOCTOR PEESCEIBES. Ill 
 
 '' It would not do, Mary," he said aloud. 
 " Poor girl ! I seem to have been very hard 
 upon her about Tom Caodjish, and it would 
 be too bad to deprive her of the mare." 
 
 ** She appears very fond of it," said Mary 
 gravely. 
 
 " And the more fond she gets of it the less 
 she thinks about anything else, eh ? " 
 
 Mary was silent. 
 
 " She never mentions him to you now ? " 
 
 '^No, Hartley." 
 
 " Hah ! That's a good job. It was hard 
 work and painful ; but I nipped that in the 
 bud." 
 
 Mary was silent, and looked at her brother 
 uneasily. 
 
 " "Well, what is it, dear ? Not comfort- 
 able ? " 
 
 "Yes, Hartley, I am quite comfortable," 
 said Mary, smiling sadly. 
 
 '' But you looked at me in a peculiar way. 
 You don't believe that Leo thinks about him 
 now ? " 
 
 ** I don't know. Hartley. I am not sure." 
 
 " Oh ! but I am. It's all right, my dear.
 
 112 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 The girl's ideas are quite changed now, and 
 I am beginning to be hopeful that she thinks 
 a little of North. Why, my dear Mary, how 
 ghastly pale you do look to-day. Are you 
 worse ? " 
 
 ''No, no, dear; indeed no. I — I fancy I 
 am getting better." 
 
 " That's right ; but I am trespassing on 
 you by talking too much. How thoughtless 
 man can be ! " 
 
 ''And how thoughtful," said Mary, as she 
 took his hand in hers, and held it to her 
 cheek. ''* Don't reproach yourself, Hartley ; 
 you give me pain." 
 
 The curate bent down and kissed her, 
 and she leaned back and closed her eyes, so 
 that her brother should not see how they 
 were suffused with tears. 
 
 " Patience," she said softly ; *' give me 
 patience to be unselfish, and bear my bitter 
 lot."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 JONADAB MOPvEDOCK SEES A GHOST. 
 
 MoREDOCK was better by the next Saturday, 
 and he got up with the intention of having 
 a good long day at the church. 
 
 " Must keep friends with the doctor," he 
 muttered. " Can't afford to die yet. So 
 much to do first." 
 
 He looked up at his clock, and the clock's 
 sallow round face looked down at him, 
 pointing out how time was getting on, and 
 kept on its monotonous chicle chach, as the 
 old pendulum swung from side to side. 
 
 " Mornin', old Moredock," cried a cheery 
 rustic voice, and a rough, fair, curly head 
 was thrust in at the doorway, the owner of 
 the body keeping it carefully outside, as he 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 held in at arm's length an old patched boot, 
 which had evidently been soaked in water 
 to allow for a series of great stitches to be 
 put into the upper leather. 
 
 For the moment it seemed as if Moredock 
 was some grim old idol, carved in yellowish- 
 brown wood, as he sat in his chair in the 
 middle of his sanctuary, and the new comer 
 was an idolater, bringing him a peace offer" 
 ing ; but the idea died away as the old man 
 snarled out : 
 
 '^ Mornin', young Chegg. So you've brought 
 it at last.'' 
 
 " At last ! Well, I haven't had it so very 
 long. Sixpence." 
 
 " Sixpence ! What, for sewing up that 
 crack ? " 
 
 " Yes, and cheap, too. W^hy, I'd ha' 
 charged parson a shilling. How are you ? " 
 
 '' How am I ? Ah ! that's it, is it ? That's 
 what you've come for. Not dead yet, Joe 
 Chegg, and they don't want another clerk 
 and saxton for the old church." 
 
 "Nay " 
 
 " Hold your tongue when I'm speaking.
 
 JONABAB MOBEDOGK SEES A GHOST. 115 
 
 Think I don't know you. Want to step in 
 my shoes, do you ? Want to marry my 
 grandchild Dally, do you ? Well, you're not 
 going to while I'm alive, and I'm going to 
 live another ten year." 
 
 '' That's all right," said the young man, 
 rubbing his face with a hard hand, much 
 tanned, and coated with wax. '^ I don't want 
 you to die." 
 
 " Yes, you do," cried the old man fiercely. 
 *' I see you looking me up and down, and 
 taking my measure. Think you're going to 
 dig my grave, do you ? Well, you're not 
 going to these ten years to come ; and p'r'aps 
 I shall dig yours first, Joe Chegg ; p'r'aps 
 I shall dig yours." 
 
 It was a cool morning, in the hunting 
 season, but the young man perspired, and 
 shifted uneasily from foot to foot. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know, Mr. Moredock, sir," 
 he muttered awkwardly. 
 
 " Then I do," cried the old sexton, drag- 
 ging his hand out of his trousers' pocket. 
 " There's a fourpenny piece. Quite enough 
 for your job, and I tell you now^ as I mean 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 to tell you ten year hence, you ain't going 
 to be saxton o' Dook's Hampton while Jona- 
 dab Moreclock's alive, so be off." 
 
 ^* I don't want nothing but what's friendly 
 like, Mr. Moredock, sir. I thought as when 
 voa was out o' sorts I mis^ht be a kind o' 
 depitty like, to ring the bells for you, and dig 
 a grave for you." 
 
 "Ah!" shouted the old man, ''that's it 
 — that's what Parson Salis calls showing 
 the cloven hoof. You said it, and you can't 
 take it back. You'd like to dig a grave for 
 me." 
 
 " I meant to put some one else in," said 
 the young man, staring. 
 
 '*No, you didn't; you meant to put me 
 in; but I'll live to spite you. I'll ring my 
 own bells, and say my own amens and 
 'spouses, and dig my own graves ; and if 
 you marry Dally Watlock, not a penny does 
 she have o' my money, and Til burn the 
 cottage down." 
 
 The young man wiped his forehead and 
 backed slowly towards the door, just inside 
 which he had been standiDg during the latter
 
 JONADAB MOBEDOCK SEES A GHOST. 117 
 
 part of the interview, and as soon as lie was 
 outside he hurried away. 
 
 " Not going to die yet," muttered the old 
 man. "I can't and won't die yet. I'll let 
 'em see. Doctor said a man's no business to 
 die till he's quite wore out, and I'm not wore 
 out yet — nothing like. I'll show 'em. Only 
 wish somebody would die, and I'd show 'em. 
 Give up, indeed ! " 
 
 A sharp fit of coughing interrupted the 
 old man, and left him so exhausted that he 
 took his seat and leaned back, staring at the 
 fire, and only moving at times to put on a 
 lump of coal, till towards evening, when he 
 rose and made himself some tea. Then, 
 putting a piece of candle loose in his pocket, 
 with happy indifi*erence to the fact that it 
 was not wax, he took a box of matches from 
 the mantelpiece and thrust them in with the 
 candle, as he believed, felt in another pocket 
 for his key, and trudged ofi" to the church 
 to put things in order for the next day's 
 service. 
 
 Moredock reached the old lych gate in 
 the dark autumnal evening, passed through,
 
 118 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 and ascended the path, which looked like a 
 cutting in the churchyard, six hundred years 
 of interments having raised the ground till 
 it formed a bank, while the church itself 
 seemed to have become sunken. 
 
 Half-way up he struck off along a narrower 
 path which curved round to the old iron- 
 studded door in the tower, a door whose 
 hinges resembled Norse runes, so twisted and 
 twined was the iron- work. 
 
 The heavy old key was inserted, turned, 
 and taken out, and as the door yielded to 
 pressure the key was inserted on the other 
 side. The next minute the door was closed 
 and locked, and Moredock stood in the old 
 tower, fumbling in the darkness for the horn 
 lantern which stood in a stone niche. 
 
 The lantern was found, opened, and the 
 piece of candle inserted in the socket. The 
 next thing was a search for the matches, 
 which, however, were not found, for they 
 were reposing on the rug in the sexton's 
 cottage. 
 
 And there he stood fumbling and mutter- 
 ing for some minutes in the total darkness,
 
 JOXAJJAB MORE DOCK SEES A GHOST. 119 
 
 till, believiDo- that the matches must have 
 been left behind, he uttered a loud grunt, 
 and prepared to do T\athout. 
 
 It was no great difficulty ; for, as he stood 
 in the basement of the old square tower, 
 with the five bells high above his head, and 
 the ropes hangiug therefrom, he knew that 
 to his right ran the rickety old flight of 
 stairs leadiuD- to the difi'erent floors and the 
 leads of the tower ; on his left his tools 
 leaninof ao'ainst the stone wall, and the Q-reat 
 cupboard in which, in company with planks 
 and ropes, were sundry grisly-looking relics, 
 dug up from time to time, but never seen by 
 any one but himself; behind him was the 
 door by which he had entered, and facing 
 him the lancet-shaped little opening through 
 the tower wall, leading into the west end of 
 the church. 
 
 It was dark enough where he next stood, 
 for he was beneath the loft where the 
 school children and the singers sat on Sun- 
 days ; but in front of him, dimly seen by 
 the great east window being beyond it, and 
 looking like an uncouth, dwarf, one-legged
 
 120 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 monster, was the massive stone font, round 
 which he passed slowly, and then walked 
 straight along the centre aisle towards the 
 tomb-encumbered chancel, cut off by its 
 antique oaken screen. 
 
 His steps were hushed by the matting, 
 and the darkness, in spite of the windows 
 on either side, was intense behind, though 
 above the old deal unpainted pews there 
 seemed to float a dim haze, as if from the 
 great east window, as he made his way to- 
 wards the door on the north side of the 
 chancel. 
 
 Moredock could have walked swiftly 
 along the church in the dark, and he had 
 often done so when he was younger. He 
 could recall the time, too, when he had 
 whistled softly as he went about dusting 
 cushions and rearranging hassocks and mat- 
 ting. But now he had no breath left for 
 whistling, and he walked — almost shuffled — 
 along slowly towards the vestry, where he 
 had nothing to do but give the gown and 
 surplice a shake and hang them up again, 
 and refill the large water-bottle from Gumley's
 
 JONABAB MOBBBOGK SEES A GHOST. 121 
 
 jDump, which drew water from a well in 
 remarkably close proximity to the church- 
 yard. 
 
 The big pews shut him in right and left, 
 so that had he been visible to any one at a 
 distance, it would have seemed as if a head 
 and shoulders were gliding along the church ; 
 but there was no one to see him. All the 
 same, though, Moredock could see, and as 
 well as was possible he saw something which 
 made him stop short just half-way between 
 the font and the eagle lectern, to shade his 
 eyes and gaze towards the chancel. 
 
 He did not believe in ghosts. He had 
 been night and day in that old church too 
 many hundred times to be scared at any- 
 thing — at least so he thought. But perhaps 
 owing to the fact that he had been ill, he 
 was ready to be weak and nervous, and 
 hence it was that he stood as if sealed to 
 the spot, gazing at a dimly seen head, draped 
 in long folds like that of the lady on the 
 old mural slab on the south wall by the 
 door. It was gray and dim as that always 
 seemed in its recess, and as it glided along
 
 122 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 the south aisle it disappeared behind a pillar, 
 all so dimly seen as to be next to invisible, 
 and then reappeared in front of the pulpit, 
 passed through the screen into the chancel, 
 where it was seen a trifle more plainly ; 
 and then, as the old man gazed, the draped 
 head grew for a moment more distinct, and 
 then seemed to melt into thin air.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE sexton's fetch. 
 
 *'Why, Moredock, you are not going to tell 
 me that you believe in ghosts ? " 
 
 "No, doctor, for I don't; and I've been 
 in that church and the vaults sometimes all 
 night." 
 
 '' All night, eh ? What for, eh ? " 
 
 "That's my business, doctor. P'raps I 
 was on the look out for body-snatchers ; but 
 I've been there all night, and no ghosts never 
 troubled me." 
 
 *' And yet here you are, all shivering and 
 nervous — too ill to attend service this morn- 
 ing ; and you tell me you saw something in 
 the church last night." 
 
 "Ay, and so I did, doctor. I s'pose I
 
 124 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 swownded away, I was took so bad ; and 
 must have laid there for hours before I got 
 up and crawled home ; and Parson Salis must 
 be in a fine taking this morning, for there's 
 nothincj done in the church." 
 
 '* Oh ! never mind that, Moredock ; Mr. 
 Salis is sorry you are ill. He's a good fellow, 
 and he sent me on this morning. You're a 
 bit nervous and shaken at what you fancied 
 you saw. Come, Moredock, old man, I'm a 
 doctor, and you're a sexton, and we're too 
 much men of the world — we've seen and 
 known too much — to be afraid of ghosts, 
 eh?" 
 
 " Ghosts ! Sperits ! I'm afraid of no ghosts, 
 doctor; but I see that thing o' Saturday 
 night." 
 
 " Thought you saw it, old chap ! " 
 
 *'Nay, doctor, I saw it; and that's what 
 scares me." 
 
 *' Pooh ! You scared at something you 
 saw — a hollow turnip and a sheet ! A trick 
 played by some scamp in the village." 
 
 *' Trick played? Nay, doctor; there isn't 
 a lad in the village dare do it. I know 'em.
 
 THE SEXTOX'S FETCH. 125 
 
 I aren't scared at the thing I saw. It's at 
 what it means." 
 
 "What it means! Then, what does it 
 mean ? " 
 
 ** Notice to quit this here earthly habi- 
 tation, as parson calls it, doctor. That's what 
 it means." 
 
 ''Kubbish!" 
 
 " Ah ! you say that to hide your bad 
 work, doctor, and because you know you 
 arn't done your duty by me." 
 
 " Why, you ungrateful old humbug ! I've 
 done no end for vou. Haven't I crone on 
 oiling your confounded old hinges for years 
 past, to keep you from dropping off, rusted 
 out ? " 
 
 " Ah ! I don't say anything again that, 
 doctor ; but you've always thought me a 
 poor man, and you've treated me like a poor 
 man — exactly like. If you'd thought me 
 well off, and you could send me in a big 
 bill, you'd have had me in such condition 
 that I shouldn't have seen my fetch last 
 night." 
 
 ''Seen your ^grandmother, man."
 
 126 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '*Ay, you ma}^ laugh, doctor; but what 
 have you. told me over and over again ? 
 ' Moredock,' says you, ^ a healthy man's no 
 business to die till he's quite worn out.' 
 And ' What age will that be, doctor ? ' says I. 
 * Oh ! at any age,' says you ; and here am 
 I, a hale, hearty man, only a little more'n 
 ninety, and last night I see my fetch." 
 
 "But you're not a hale, hearty man, 
 Moredock." 
 
 "Tchah ! Whatcher talking about ? Why, 
 I'd 'bout made up my mind to be married 
 again." 
 
 " You ? Married ? Why, even I don't think 
 of such a thing." 
 
 '' You ? No," said the old man, contemp- 
 tuously. " You're not half the man I've 
 been. My son's gal — Dally Watlock's 'fended 
 me, and if she don't mind she'll lose my bit 
 o' money." 
 
 ''You take my advice, Moredock, and 
 don't marry." 
 
 " Shan't leave you nothing, if I don't 
 marry, doctor," said the old man, with a 
 cunning leer ; *' and you needn't send in
 
 THE SEXTON'S FETCE. 127 
 
 no bills because you've found out I've got 
 a bit saved up." 
 
 " Why, you wicked old ruffian, I sup- 
 pose you've scraped together a few pounds 
 by trafficking in old bones, and of what 
 you've robbed the church." 
 
 '^ Never you mind, doctor, how I got it, or 
 how much it is." 
 
 '' I don't ; but just you be wise, sir. 
 You're not going to marry again, and you're 
 going to leave your money to your grand- 
 child." 
 
 '' Eh ? What — what ? Do you want to 
 marry her ? " 
 
 "No, I don't, Moredock ; but if you don't 
 behave yourself, hang me if I come and 
 doctor you any more. You may send over 
 to King's Hampton for Dr. Wellby, or die 
 if you like : I won't try and save you." 
 
 " No, no, no ; don't talk like that, 
 doctor — don't talk like that," whimpered 
 the old man; "just now, too, when I'm so 
 shook." 
 
 " Then don't you talk about disinheriting 
 your poor grandchild. Come, hold up, More-
 
 128 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 dock ! I didn't mean it. There's nothing 
 much the matter." 
 
 '^ Ah 1 but there is, doctor. I saw my 
 fetch last nig^ht." 
 
 *' No, you did not. You were not strong 
 enough to go up to the church, and you 
 fancied you saw something." 
 
 *' I see it." 
 
 " Well, suppose you did. Some one had 
 gone into the church to fetch a hymn-book, 
 or put in a new cushion." 
 
 " Nobody couldn't, but me and parson, and 
 squire and you. I see it, and it was my 
 fetch." 
 
 ** No, no, old fellow; you're mistaken* 
 You were in the dark, and your head weak." 
 
 " I see it, and it was my fetch, doctor." 
 
 "Very well, then, Moredock, it was your 
 fetch ; but we won't let it fetch you for 
 some years to come. What do you say to 
 that ? " 
 
 " Ah 1 now you're talking sensible, doctor," 
 cried the old man, brightening up. " Look 
 here, doctor, you do what's right by me, and 
 let me have the best o' stuff — good physic^
 
 THE SEXTOX'S FETCH. 120 
 
 you know — and tliere isn't anything I won't 
 do for you. A skull, or a bone of any kind, 
 or a whole set, or " 
 
 " There, that will do, Moredock. I'll do 
 my duty by you, and I don't want any 
 reward." 
 
 "No, you don't. You're a good fellow, 
 doctor ; and you do understand my complaint, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, thoroughly. There, sit back in 
 your chair, and keep quiet. Mr. Salis is 
 coming in to see you by-and-by." 
 
 '* Nay, nay, nay ! T don't want he. It 
 makes a man feel as if he's very bad when 
 parson comes to see him." 
 
 "Why, I'm sure he's a thoroughly good 
 friend to you, old fellow." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, he's right enough ; but as soon 
 as ever he comes in this here room, he'll 
 be^in talking: to me about what a sinner 
 I've been." 
 
 '*Well, quite right, too." 
 
 " Maybe, doctor, maybe," said the old man, 
 bursting into a loud cachinnation ; " but he 
 don't know everything, doctor, do he ? If 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 he did, he'd lay it on thicker ; and he 
 wouldn't be quite so friendly with you." 
 
 '' Come, come, Moredock," said the doctor, 
 laughing. " Suppose we leave professional 
 secrets alone, eh ? " 
 
 '^ Ay, ay, doctor, we will. I don't forget 
 what you've told me ; but do go and tell 
 parson I'm a deal better, and that he needn't 
 come." 
 
 " AVhy ? A visit won't do you any harm." 
 
 " Maybe not, doctor — p'raps not ; but as 
 soon as he comes he'll want to read me a 
 chapter and then pray over me ; and I'm 
 that soaked with it all, after these many 
 years, that I haven't room for no more." 
 
 " But, Moredock " 
 
 '^ There, it's of no use for you to talk. 
 Think I don't know ! Why, I know more 
 chapters and bits of the sarvice by heart 
 than half-a-dozen parsons/' 
 
 '' Ah, well ! I'll send you a bottle of mix- 
 ture as soon as I get home, so sit up and 
 make yourself comfortable." 
 
 " May I smoke my pipe, doctor ? "
 
 THU SEXTON'S FETCR. 131 
 
 •' Ob, yes, as long as you like, man. You're 
 not bad ; and take my advice : just you forget 
 all about your fetch, as you call it, and 
 don't go to the church any more in the 
 dark" 
 
 K 2
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AFTER CHUECH. 
 
 The doctor left the sexton's cottage, tliinkiDg 
 deeply on the way in which the brain is 
 aflfected by the weakness of the body. 
 
 ** Poor old fellow ! " he muttered ; *' nearly 
 a hundred years old, and clinging to life 
 more tightly than ever. Believes he saw 
 something, of course. Not fit to go out 
 alone. But hell pull round, and perhaps 
 last for years. Wonderful constitution, but 
 also an exemplification of my pet theory. 
 Humph ! coming out of church. Well, I 
 must meet 'em, I suppose. Hallo I what's 
 going to happen ? Has Salis converted the 
 pair of reprobates ? Morning, Squire ; morn- 
 ing, Mr. Candlish."
 
 AFTER CHURCH. 133 
 
 He shook hands — professionally, as he 
 called it — with the yonng squire and his 
 brother, who were just out of church, and 
 walked slowly on with tliem, discussing the 
 hunt, election matters, and the state of the 
 country. 
 
 " Why don't you hunt more, doctor ? " said 
 the squire, a florid, fine-looking man, singu- 
 larly like his brother, but more athletic of 
 build. 
 
 '•' Want of time," said the doctor orood- 
 humouredly. ''Too many irons in the fire." 
 
 " You work too hard. But look here — 
 don't be ofi'ended ; I've always a spare 
 mount or two when you are disposed for a 
 gallop." 
 
 '' Thanks ; Til ask one of these days — 
 which never come," the doctor added to him- 
 self. "And now, good-day." 
 
 " No, no ; come on, and have a bit of 
 dinner with us — early dinner to-day." 
 
 " Thanks — no ; I've a patient or two to 
 see, and I want a w^ord with the parson." 
 
 "We don't," said the squire; " eh, Tom ? 
 WeVe had ours."
 
 134 TEJE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 Tom Candlish scowled. 
 
 " AVell, always glad to see you, doctor — 
 non-professionally," said the squire ; and they 
 went on, v/hile North turned back to. meet 
 Salis, wondering why Tom Candlish had con- 
 descended to come to church. 
 
 '' To stare at Leo, I'll be sworn, and Salis 
 must have felt it. I'll be bound to say he 
 made a dozen mistakes in the service this 
 morning through that fellow coming. And, 
 as for the squire — that young man drinks, 
 and he had better look out, or Moredock will 
 have a grand funeral to attend." 
 
 ** Good morning, doctor. Were you coming 
 to see me ? " 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Berens ! I beg your pardon ; 
 I didn't see you." 
 
 "No, doctor, you never do seem to see 
 me. You forget your most anxious patients," 
 said the lady pathetically. 
 
 "But, really, you did not send me word." 
 
 "No, I did not send you word. I lived in 
 hope of your coming." 
 
 " Thank goodness ! " thought the doctor. 
 "This woman is growing; dangjerous."
 
 AFTER CHURCH. 135 
 
 His pious ejaculation was consequent upon 
 the fact that his friend, the curate, was ap- 
 proaching in company with Leo. 
 
 Mrs. Berens became aware of the fact at 
 the same time, and though she uttered no 
 pious ejaculation, she was equally pleased, for 
 two reasons. 
 
 The first was that through the past two 
 hours she had been seated in the same build- 
 ing with Leo Salis ; the pews were high, and 
 Leo could only have seen the top of her 
 bonnet, w^hereas the handsome widow did not 
 go to great expense for the most fashion- 
 able modes et robes, as the dressmakers 
 express it, for nothing. The most elegant 
 head-gear, though it may aiSbrd some satisfac- 
 tion to the wearer, is hardly worth wearino-, 
 unless it be envied by those of the one sex and 
 admired by the other. This encounter with 
 the doctor would give handsome Leo a good 
 opportunity for envious glances, and as Mrs. 
 Berens could not rival her neighbour in 
 contour, she would have some chance of 
 standing upon an equal footing. 
 
 The other reason was that she wished the
 
 136 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 curate to come up and speak to her at the 
 same time as she was talking to the doctor. 
 For Mrs. Berens was not deeply in love ; 
 she only wished to be. The doctor and the 
 curate were both fine, manly fellows, to 
 either of whom she would have been willing 
 to give herself and fortune ; but somehow 
 they had both been terribly unimpressionable, 
 and though she had shown as plainly as she 
 dared, any time during the past year, the 
 tenderness waiting to burst forth, she was 
 still Mrs. Berens, and twelve months older. 
 
 Here was an opportunity of playing one 
 off against the other ; for men could often be 
 stirred, she knew, into learning the value of 
 something when they saw that it was gliding 
 from their grasp. 
 
 The couple from the Rectory came up, and 
 Mrs. Berens felt a pang as, after her warm 
 salutations, in which her hand had rested in 
 that of the curate for a few moments, to 
 receive nothing; more than a frank, friendly 
 pressure, she saw that of Leo Salis rest in the 
 doctor's longer than she considered prudent. 
 Leo seemed unusually handsome, too, that
 
 AFTER CHURCH. 137 
 
 morning:. There was a briorht flush on her 
 cheeks ; her eyes sparkled, and she looked 
 twenty, while Mrs. Berens felt that she looked 
 nearly forty. 
 
 Salis was glad of the encounter, for it 
 was true that he had been makino- mistakes 
 that morning. The very fact that Tom Cand- 
 lish was in the church was disturbing, and 
 when he knew that he must have come — he 
 could not believe otherwise — expressly to 
 stare at Leo, the presence of the man whom he 
 had thrashed in so unclerical a way acted on 
 his thoughts as a pointsman acts over trains 
 at a busy junction — sent them flying in dif- 
 ferent directions beyond the drivers' control. 
 
 The curate's colour was heightened, for lie 
 knew that he had appeared at a disadvantage 
 before the more thoughtful of his congrega- 
 tion. He was anxious, too, about Leo, who 
 looked excited, and he dreaded any renewal 
 of the past trouble ; so that the encounter 
 was satisfactory, if only from the fact that 
 it afi'orded temporary relief from worrying 
 thoughts and cares. 
 
 Mrs. Berens was sweetness itself to all.
 
 138 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 and Leo seemed to rouse herself to be 
 pleasant to the doctor, the result being that 
 Mrs. Berens was seen home — to part most 
 affectionately from Leo, and with most 
 tenderly friendly pressures of the hand to 
 the gentlemen ; after wdiich she hurried 
 into her room, to tear o'ff her new bonnet 
 and indulge in a passionate burst of 
 sobbing. 
 
 '^ She's as deceitful as she is young," she 
 cried. ''She has thrown over Tom Cand- 
 lish, and now she is winning over that 
 foolish doctor ; while Hartley Salis is as 
 immovable as a stone. 
 
 *' I'll be even with her," she cried. " Either 
 Tom Candlish or the squire would be glad 
 to marry me. I'll have one of them, and 
 I'll make her half die with envy by asking 
 her to my house, and — yes, there they go, 
 and Horace North is going into the house 
 with them. Ugh ! the monster I He de- 
 serves to have the doorstep sink beneath 
 his feet. But I'll be revenged. No, no, no I 
 they're too bad," she sobbed * " but I couldn't 
 stoop to that."
 
 AFTER CIIUECH. 139 
 
 IMrs. Berens subsided into an easy-cliair, 
 to go on reddening her eyes ; while the 
 doctor accompanied his friends to the 
 Eectory, and stopped chatting for a few 
 minutes, but refused another invitation to 
 dine even when Mary Salis and Leo both 
 added their persuasions. 
 
 ''Xo/' he said, " I've promised old More- 
 dock his dose, and I'm o'oino* to see that he 
 
 ' (^ CD 
 
 has it." And then, after a few kindly w^ords 
 to Mary concerning her health — words that 
 were almost tender, but which seemed to 
 burn and sear the poor girl, as she read them 
 aricrht — he went awav, to hurry to his suro-ery 
 in the Manor House. 
 
 '' I'm very glad, for poor old Hartley's 
 sake, that the affair's all off. It is, evi- 
 dently ; for Madam Leo seemed as cool as 
 could be, and she's as handsome and lady- 
 like a cfirl as a man need wash to call wife. 
 Humph ! I'U give him a little chloral — just 
 a suspicion — to calm him down. Poor old 
 boy ! and he thinks he's going to die. AYell, 
 it's my theory," he continued, as he com- 
 pounded the sexton's mixture and carefully
 
 140 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 corked it up ; " and, think about it from 
 whichever j)oint I may, it seems to be quite 
 right. There, Master Moredock, there's 
 your dose. That will lay any ghost in the 
 United Kingdom, given sufficiently strong ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW HORACE XORTH DID NOT GO TO THE 
 
 MEET. 
 
 " What a morninor for a run with the 
 hounds ! " said Horace North, as he stood at 
 the door of the fine old Manor House, where 
 he had come to cool himself, after a scene 
 with Mrs. Milt, his housekeeper, owing to a 
 committee of ways and means. 
 
 Mrs. Milt had wanted to have everything 
 her way. The doctor had shown a desire 
 to have everything his way, and the approach 
 of the two forces had resulted in an ex- 
 plosion. 
 
 '•' Candlish offered me a mount, and I've a 
 good mind to take the offer, just for once. A 
 good gallop would do me a world of good.
 
 142 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 No ; I'll go and have a cliat with old More- 
 dock, see Mrs. Berens, Biddy Tallis, and 
 Brown's baby, and then settle down to a 
 good, quiet study. Hah ! " 
 
 Horace iSlorth was dubious. A slight puff 
 upon his vane would have sent it in either 
 direction, and it seemed as if the decisive 
 puff came just then in the shape of some- 
 thino* as lioht as air. For there was the 
 sound of hoofs ; and directly after, looking 
 exceedingly handsome in her tightly-fitting 
 riding-habit and natty hat, Leo Salis passed 
 on her pretty mare. 
 
 She caught sight of him, and returned 
 a coquettish nod and »mile to his low bow, 
 but did not draw rein, though she must 
 have seen his intention to hurry down to the 
 gate ; cantering gently on, as charming a 
 specimen of early womanhood as ever rode 
 gracefully upon a well-bred mare. 
 
 " By George ! that settles it," said the 
 doctor. " Where's the meet ? '' 
 
 He hurried in, snatched up the county 
 paper, and found that it was at Fir Tree Hill, 
 four miles beyond the Hall.
 
 HORACE XOBTE AXD THE MEET. 143 
 
 '"The very thing," lie cried. 'Til just 
 get on my boots, and walk over to the Hall, 
 get my mount, and go on. Xo, I won't ; 
 I'll drive." 
 
 He rang the bell, and Mrs. Milt — a very 
 severe-looking, handsome, elderly lady — in 
 the whitest of caps, bibs, and tuckers, ap- 
 peared frowning, as if still charged with the 
 remaininof clouds of the late storm. 
 
 "Tell Dick to put the horse in the 
 chaise." 
 
 Mrs. Milt tightened her lips, and made 
 parallel lines in her forehead, but did not 
 stir. 
 
 " ^Ye\\ ? " said tlie doctor. 
 
 "Well?" said Mrs. Milt. 
 
 " Did you hear what I said ? " 
 
 •''Perfectly," said Mrs. Milt. 
 
 " Then, why don't you do it ? And for 
 Heaven's sake, my dear Mrs. Milt, let's have 
 no more of this petty squabbling. Discharge 
 cook ; have a fresh house-maid ; paper and 
 clean up, and do whatever you please, but 
 don't bother me." 
 
 "It is not my wish to bother you,
 
 144 TEE MAN TVITE A SEADOJV. 
 
 Dr. North," said the lady austerely, and 
 with considerable emphasis on the word, 
 "bother." 
 
 "Very well, then, let's have peace. Such 
 a scene as we had this morning interferes 
 with my studies. Now, go and tell him 
 to put to the horse." 
 
 *^ Will you be good enough to tell me 
 how, Dr. North ? " 
 
 '^ What do you mean ? " 
 
 " You sent your man in that chaise to 
 fetch some drugs from King's Hampton." 
 
 " Hah ! so I did. He ought to be back 
 by now. Yes ; there are wheels." 
 
 '' The carrier," said Mrs. Milt. 
 
 " Pish ! of course. Never mind, I'll walk. 
 There's something else coming," he said, 
 listening. " Yes ; that's the chaise. Go and 
 tell Dick not to take out the horse, but to 
 come round here." 
 
 *'He's coming round," said Mrs. Milt, 
 going to the window ; " and there's a gentle- 
 man with him." 
 
 The doctor looked up hastily, and frowned, 
 as he caught sight of a dark, sleek-looking
 
 HOBACE XORTH AXD THE MEET. 145 
 
 personage, about to descend from the chaise ; 
 while, as Mrs. Milt went to open the door, 
 Horace North exclaimed to himself : 
 
 *'Now, why in the world is it that Nature 
 will set one against one's relations, and above 
 all against Cousin Thompson, for " 
 
 " Ah ! my dear Horace, this was very 
 good and thoughtful of you," exclaimed the 
 object of his thoughts, entering the room with 
 extended hands. 
 
 *'Ah! Thompson, glad to see you," said 
 the doctor, innocently enough — for the lie 
 was from habit, not intentional — ''but you 
 are not cyanide of potassium ! " 
 
 " Sure I'm not, indeed ; but I want to 
 consult you." 
 
 " I sent in my man for a portion of that 
 unpleasant chemical ; not to meet you." 
 
 *' Well, it doesn't matter, my dear boy. I 
 was coming down, and I saw your chaise ; 
 and I know you like me to make myself at 
 home, so give me some breakfast." 
 
 " Yes, of course. Eun down this morning ? " 
 
 " Yes, by the six-thirty from Paddington. 
 Early bird gets the first pick, you know." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE MAN WITE A SHADOW. 
 
 *' There goes my gallop," groaned the 
 doctor, as a mental vision of Leo Salis ap- 
 peared before him, while he rang the bell. 
 
 " Not ill, are you ? Come to consult 
 me ? " 
 
 '^No, I'm not ill; but I have come to con- 
 sult you, my dear Horace." 
 
 '' Did vou rinor sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Milt ; my cousin would like 
 some breakfast." 
 
 " I am getting it ready, sir ; but it can't 
 be done in two minutes and a half." 
 
 •'' No, no, of course not, Mrs. Milt. Thank 
 you. Send word when it's ready." 
 
 " I'll bring word myself, sir," said Mrs. 
 Milt austerely. 
 
 " No, don't trouble, my dear Mrs. Milt," 
 said Cousin Thompson, who looked so sleek in 
 skin and black cloth that he shone ; " a cup 
 of coffee and a sole, cutlet — anything." 
 
 " Sole ! cutlet ! My dear fellow, this 
 isn't London. Give him some ham and 
 eggs, Mrs. Milt," said the doctor. "Now, 
 old fellow," he continued, as the door closed 
 after the housekeeper a little more loudly
 
 HOILWE NORTH AND THE MEET. U7 
 
 than was necessary, *' business : what's the 
 matter ? Liver ? " 
 
 "No, no, my dear Horace. I'm quite 
 well. To consult you about Mrs. Berens." 
 
 The doctor pushed back his chair. 
 
 ''Why, how surprised you look! You re- 
 commended her to come to me about her 
 money affairs.'"' 
 
 " Oh ! Ah ! Yes, of course ; so I did. She 
 asked me to give her the name of a London 
 solicitor, and so I gave her yours — my 
 cousin's.'' 
 
 " It was very good of you, Horace, for I 
 am a poor man," said the visitor sleekly. " Far 
 be it from me to quarrel with L'ncle Kichard's 
 apportionment of his money, but " 
 
 " There, for sfoodness' sake, don't brino- 
 that up again ! You know why the old man 
 excluded you." 
 
 "Yes. I had the misfortune to offend 
 him, Horace," said the visitor with a sigh. 
 
 " And now what about Mrs. Berens ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes ; a very simple matter. You are 
 a great friend of hers ? " 
 
 *•' I am her doctor." 
 
 L 2
 
 148 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *' Yes, yes," said the other, with an un- 
 pleasant chuckle, which made North long to 
 kick him ; " but if report is true, you are 
 going to marry the handsome widow." 
 
 **Then report is not true," said North 
 angrily. " Now to business." 
 
 '* Well, the fact is this," said the visitor; 
 '• in my capacity of confidential solicitor to 
 several people, I often have to give advice, 
 and to raise money." 
 
 ''No doubt," said the doctor drily. 
 
 *' I have a client now who wants rather a 
 heavy sum upon the security of some lease- 
 hold houses. Mrs. Berens has money lying 
 in the Three per Cents., and I thought that 
 you, as her friend, might advise her. She 
 would get six per cent, instead of three, and 
 a word from you " 
 
 '* Will never induce a lady patient of mine 
 to run any risks," said the doctor shortly. 
 
 " Kisks ? " 
 
 " Breakfast's ready," said the doctor 
 abruptly, and he led the way into the other 
 room. Having sufficient wisdom not to 
 recommence the attack, Cousin Thompson
 
 HOBACE NORTH AXD TEE MEET. U9 
 
 contented himself with breakfastinof heartilv, 
 but he was not pleasant over his feeding ; 
 and, w^hat was more, he had a w^ay of bring- 
 ing into every room he entered an odour of 
 mouldy parchment. 
 
 After breakfast Cousin Thompson had an 
 interview with Mrs. Berens ; and after that, 
 without consulting^ his cousin, he walked 
 across to the Hall to hold a meeting, not 
 unconnected with money matters, with Tom 
 Candlish. Had he consulted his cousin, he 
 would have known that in all probability 
 Tom Candlish had gone to the meet, 
 especially as he rarely missed a run. 
 
 Consequently, Cousin Thompson returned 
 to the doctor's, to find him chafing over his 
 disappointment. Not that he was a hunting 
 man ; but the whim had seized him to go, 
 and the appearance of Leo Salis had helped 
 to make the ride more attractive than it 
 might have appeared at another time. 
 
 '*Ah, Horace, my dear fellow," he said, 
 " I shall have to trespass on your hospitality 
 for dinner, and then ask you to give me a 
 bed."
 
 150 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '' All right," said the doctor gruffly. '' Give 
 you a dose too, if you like." 
 
 " Thanks, no, unless you mean wine." 
 
 *' Oh, yes, I'll give you a glass of port," said 
 the doctor. '' I hope you haven't persuaded 
 that poor woman to invest in anything 
 risky." 
 
 " Now, my dear Horace, what do you take 
 me for ? " cried Cousin Thompson. 
 
 " A lawyer." 
 
 " But there are good lawyers and had 
 lawyers." 
 
 " Well, from a legal point of view, you're 
 a bad lawyer. I never gave you but one 
 case to conduct for me, and that you lost." 
 
 " The barrister lost it, my dear Horace. 
 Don't be afraid. I am not a legal pick- 
 pocket. I might retaliate, and say you're a 
 bad doctor." 
 
 " Well, so I am — horribly bad. The 
 amount of ignorance that exists in my brain, 
 sir, is truly frightful." 
 
 **But you go on curing people." 
 
 *' Trying to cure people, sir, you mean. 
 Wading about in deep water ; groping in
 
 HORACE NOBTR AND TEE MEET. 151 
 
 the darkness. Thank Heaven, sir, that you 
 \vere not made a doctor. Eh, what is it — 
 some one ill ? " he cried, as Mrs. Milt entered 
 the room with a note. 
 
 "Poor somebody ! " said Cousin Thompson 
 to himself. 
 
 " Note from the Rectory, sir." 
 
 '' Oh ! " ejaculated the doctor ; '^ shan't 
 be able to go, as you are here. AVants me 
 to play a game at chess. Salis, you know." 
 
 As he spoke he leisurely unfastened the 
 envelope, and began to read. 
 
 "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. ''Mrs. 
 Milt, attend to my cousin as if I were here. 
 Very sorry. Serious case," he continued, 
 turning to his guest ; and the next minute 
 he had hurried from the house, to set off 
 almost at a run for the Rectory. 
 
 For Hartley Salis' note was very brief, 
 but none the less uro^ent, containino; as it 
 did these w^ords : 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, come on ! Leo has 
 had a serious fall." /
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A EEFEACTORY PATIENT. 
 
 Leo made light of her accident, though her 
 shoulder was a good deal hurt, and she bore 
 the bandaging of what was a serious wrench 
 with the greatest fortitude. As North learned 
 by degrees, there had been a magnificent 
 run, but towards the last, when Leo w^as 
 almost heading the field, the mare had|become 
 unmanageable, and had rushed at a dan- 
 gerous jump, with the result that she fell, 
 threw her rider on the bank of the deep little 
 river, and, in her efibrts to rise, entangled 
 herself with Leo's habit, and rolled with her 
 right into the water. 
 
 ''A most providential escape," said Salis, 
 who looked pale with anxiety.
 
 A BEFEAQTORY PATIENT. 153 
 
 " AYhat nonsense, Hartley ! " said the 
 girl ; " a bit of a bruise on the shoulder and 
 a wetting." 
 
 *' Yes, but you would have been drowned 
 if the gentlemen of the hunt had not galloped 
 up to your aid." 
 
 " But they always do gallop up to a lady's 
 aid if her horse falls," said Leo, speaking 
 excitedly. "There, don't make so much of 
 it ; and it was utterly absurd, Hartley, for 
 you to send for a doctor for such a trifle." 
 
 "Trifle or no, Miss Salis/' said the doctor, 
 "I should advise your seeking your bed at 
 once." 
 
 "Nonsense, Dr. North ! " 
 
 " Well, then, I must insist," he said 
 firmly. 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Leo ; " I suppose 
 you are master, so I have no more to say. 
 A little girl has had an accident, and so they 
 put her to bed. Fudge ! " 
 
 " Leo, dear," said Mary, from her couch, 
 " pray be advised. Dr. North would not 
 wish it if it were not necessary." 
 
 *' Certainl}^ not," said North shortly, for
 
 154 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 lie was annoyed at Leo's flippant manner, 
 and ready to wonder why lie had felt at- 
 tracted that mornino'. 
 
 " What nonsense, Mary ! " cried Leo. 
 '' Pray don't you interfere." 
 
 Mary sighed, and remained silent. 
 '* Well, as you please," said North. ^'' I 
 have given you good advice : act as you 
 think best." 
 
 He turned to go, but was followed into 
 the hall by the curate. 
 
 *' Gome into my room," said the latter, 
 with a pained and perplexed look in his 
 face. ^' This is very sad, old fellow." 
 
 '' What ? being guardian to a couple of 
 giddy girls 1 " said the doctor petulantly. 
 ''No, no: I beg your pardon; don't take 
 any notice of my bitter way ; but really, 
 Salis, old boy, you had better have got rid 
 of that mare." 
 
 ''Yes, I wish I had," said the curate sadly ; 
 
 "but Leo seems to take such pleasure in it — 
 
 and who could foresee such a mishap as this ? " 
 
 "I could," said the doctor shortly. 
 
 " Good thing she was not killed."
 
 A EEFEACTOEY PATIENT. 155 
 
 '' You don't think the hurt serious ? 
 
 "Serious? Xo. Give her a grood deol of 
 pain, of course." 
 
 '•'And the chill?" 
 
 " What chill ? " 
 
 ■' The plunge into the river after a heated 
 ride." 
 
 '•' She chang^ed her thingrs at once, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " No," said the curate. " It seems that 
 out of bravado she insisted on mountino^ 
 ag^ain, and then rode slowlv home. She was 
 shivering when she came in." 
 
 " Why was I not told all this before ? " 
 said North sharply. '' Look here, Salis, old 
 fellow ; she must go to bed directly, and take 
 what I send her. Exercise your authority, or 
 she will have a very serious cold." 
 
 He hurried away, and did not send the 
 promised medicine, but took it himself, 
 leaving it with emphatic instructions as to 
 its being taken ; and the result was that 
 Leo Salis laughed at the supposed necessity, 
 as she termed it, and calmly declined to 
 follow out the doctor's views.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 "l AM NOT ILL." 
 
 Hartley Salls did not tell the doctor the 
 whole of his trouble, neither did he say n 
 word to Mary upon the subject ; but she 
 divined the cause of his auger as she lay 
 helpless there, and sighed as she wished 
 that she could set matters right. 
 
 For Tom Candlish had ridden home with 
 Leo, and parted at the gate. 
 
 *« 1 might have known that they would 
 meet," said Salis, as he sat thinking; "but 
 I never imagined that he would have the 
 assumption to come again to the house." 
 
 But Tom Candlish had helped Leo when 
 she was in great peril of being drowned ; and 
 as the curate learned this he felt his im-
 
 •'•'I AM XOT ill:' ]57 
 
 potence, and was coldly courteous, while, on 
 his side, Tom Candlish was defiant, almost 
 to the point of insolence ; and his manner 
 to Leo seemed intimate enoucrh to startle 
 
 o 
 
 Salis, and make him wonder whether they 
 had met since the scene at the river-side. 
 
 Hartley Salis soon had something to 
 divert his attention from this point, for the 
 next day Leo was not very well. She was 
 tired, she said. It had been a very long 
 run, but delightful all the same ; and she 
 allowed now that perhaps it would have 
 been better if she had listened to the doctor's 
 advice. 
 
 ** I shall be quite well to-morrow," she cried. 
 " Why, LEartley, how serious you look ! " 
 
 '•' Do IV he said, smiling, for he had been 
 communing with himself as to whether he 
 should ask Leo plainly if she had kept 
 her word. 
 
 '•' Do you ? Yes ! " she cried angrily ; and, 
 without apparent cause, she flashed out into 
 quite a fit of passion. '*' I declare it is 
 miserable now to be at home. It is like 
 living between two spies."
 
 158 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " My dear Leo ! " began Salis. 
 
 " I don't care : it is. Mary here watches 
 me as a cat does a mouse. You always 
 follow me about whenever I stir from home ; 
 and then you two compare notes, and plot 
 and plan together how to make my life a 
 burden." 
 
 '' Leo, dear," said Mary gently, '' you are 
 irritable and unwell, or you would not speak 
 like this." 
 
 . *'I would. I am driven to it by my 
 miserable life at home. I am treated like a 
 prisoner." 
 
 *' Leo, my child," began Salis. 
 
 *' Yes, that's it — child ! You treat me as 
 if 1 were a child, and I will not beau it. 
 Anything more cruel it is ioipossible to 
 conceive." 
 
 " Nonsense, dear," said Salis, smiliug 
 gravely, as he took his sister's hand. 
 
 She snatched it away ; not so quickly, 
 thouofb, but that he had time to feel that 
 it was burning hot, as her scarlet cheeks 
 seemed to be, while her eyes were unusually 
 brilliant.
 
 ''I AM NOT ILLr 159 
 
 It was no time to question or reproach, 
 and the curate set himself to soothe. 
 
 " Why, Leo, my dear," he said, smilino-. 
 " I shall begiu to think you are cross." 
 
 "If you mean indignant," she retorted, " I 
 am. My very soul seems to revolt against 
 the ^Yretched system of espionage you two 
 have established ao^ainst me." 
 
 " No, no, Leo, dear ! " said Mary. " How 
 can you say such things of Hartley, whose 
 every thouQ-ht is for vour crood ? " 
 
 **Good — good — o-ood ! " cried Leo: "I'm 
 sick of the very word ! Be good ! Be a 
 good girl ! Oh ! it's sickening ! " 
 
 Salis made a sio-n to Marv to be silent, 
 but Leo detected it. 
 
 " There ! " she cried, with her eyes flash- 
 ing. " What did I say ? You two are always 
 plotting against me. Ah ! " 
 
 She shivered as from a sadden chill, and 
 drew her chair closer to the fire. 
 
 " Do you feel unwell, dear ? " said Salis 
 anxiously. 
 
 *' No, no, xo ! I have told you both a 
 dozen times over that I am quite well. It
 
 IGO TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 is a cold morning, and I shivered a little. 
 Is there anything extraordinary in that ? '^ 
 
 " I only felt anxious about you, dear." 
 
 "Then, pray don't feel anxious, but let 
 me be in peace." 
 
 She caught up a book, and tried to read ; 
 while, to avoid irritating her, Salis and Mary 
 resumed their tasks— the one writing, the 
 other busy over her needle ; and to both it 
 seemed as if they were performing penance, 
 so intense was the desire to keep on glancing 
 at Leo, while they felt the necessity for avoid- 
 ing all appearance of noticing her. 
 
 She held her book before her, and ap- 
 peared to be reading, but she did not follow 
 a line ; for the letters were blurred, and a 
 curious, dull, aching sensation racked her 
 from head to foot, rising, as it were, in waves 
 which swept through her brain, and made 
 it throb. 
 
 This, with its accompanying giddiness, 
 passed off, and with obstinate determination 
 she kept her place, and the pretence of read- 
 in o- was carried on till towards eveninof. 
 
 They had dined — a weary, comfortless
 
 "I AM NOT ILL." 161 
 
 meal — at which Leo had taken her place, 
 and made an attempt to eat ; but it was 
 evident to the others that the food diso^usted 
 her, and almost everything was sent untasted 
 away. 
 
 The irritability seemed to have died out, 
 but every attempt to draw her into conver- 
 sation failed ; and after a time the meal 
 progressed in silence, till they drew round 
 the fire at the end to resume their tasks, 
 almost without a word. 
 
 Salis was busy over a formal report of 
 the state of the parish for the rector. Mary 
 was hard at work stitching, to help a poor 
 widow who gained a precarious living by 
 needlework, and Leo still had her book before 
 her eyes. 
 
 Mary's were aching, and she was about 
 to ring for the lamp, for the short December 
 afternoon was closing in, and Salis was in 
 the act of wiping his pen, when Leo sud 
 denly let fall her book, to sit up rigidly, 
 staring wildly at them. 
 
 "Leo, my child!" 
 
 *' Well, what is it?" she said; and her 
 
 VOL. I.I M
 
 162 THE MAN WITB A SHADOW. 
 
 voice sounded harsh and strange. " Why did 
 you say that ? You knew I should say yes." 
 
 ** Yes, yes, of course, my dear ; but I did 
 not speak." 
 
 '• You did. You said I lied unto you, 
 quite aloud, and " — with a return of her 
 irritable way — *'are we never going to have 
 dinner ? " 
 
 Salis rose from the table where he had 
 been writing, and laid his hand upon his 
 sister's arm. 
 
 '* Leo, dear," he said anxiously ; and he 
 gazed in her wild eyes, which softened and 
 looked lovingly in his. 
 
 "No," she said, as she nestled to him and 
 laid her cheek upon his arm ; *' a bit of a 
 wrench. My shoulder aches, but it will soon 
 be well, dear." 
 
 " Lie back in your chair," said Salis, as he 
 laid his hand upon her throbbing brow. 
 
 "Yes, that's nice," she said, smiling as 
 she obeyed. "So cool and refreshing — so 
 cool." 
 
 " Do you feel drowsy ? Would you like 
 to have a nap ? "
 
 "I AM NOT ILL." 163 
 
 " Yes, if you wish it," she said. *' I am 
 sleepy. Don't tell them at home, dear." 
 
 Salis started, and his face grew convulsed, 
 as he exchanged glances with Mary, who read 
 his wish, wrote a few lines in pencil, and softly 
 rang the bell. 
 
 " Take that at once," she whispered to 
 Dally Watlock, who entered, round- eyed and 
 staring. 
 
 '' To Mr. Tom Candlish, miss ? " 
 
 "No, no, girl ; to Mr. North." 
 
 Mary drew her breath hard as the door 
 closed behind the girl, for she read in her 
 words a tale of deceit and also who had been 
 the messenger, perhaps, in many a love missive 
 sent on either side. 
 
 She tried to rise, feeling that this was a 
 time of urgent need ; but her eyes became 
 suffused with tears as she sank back help- 
 less in her seat. 
 
 '* Take my arm, Leo, dear," said Salis. 
 *'You would be better if you went up to 
 your room and lay down." 
 
 "Yes, dear; if you wish it," she said 
 softly ; and she started up, but caught at 
 
 M 2
 
 164 th:b man with a shadow. 
 
 her brother, and clung to him as if she had 
 been seized by a sudden vertigo, and then 
 stared wildly round. 
 
 Salis gave Mary a nod, and then, drawing 
 Leo's arm through his, led her up to the 
 door of her room, which she entered while 
 he ran quickly down. 
 
 " Quite delirious," he said quickly. " I 
 hope North will not be long. I thought he 
 would have been here this morning." 
 
 He was busy as he spoke preparing for 
 a task which he had performed twice daily 
 since Mary's convalescence. For, taking her 
 in his arms as easily as if she had been a 
 child, he bore her out of the room and up 
 to Leo's door. 
 
 As Mary, trembling with anxiety, pressed 
 it open, Leo uttered an angry cry, dashed 
 forward, and thrust the door back in her 
 face. 
 
 " No, no ! " she said hoarsely ; " not you. 
 Let me be. Let me rest in peace." 
 
 ''But Leo, dear, you are ill." 
 
 *' I am not ill," she cried fiercely. '' Go 
 away ! "
 
 "J AM NOT ILLy 165 
 
 " Don't irritate her," whispered Salis 
 gently. " Leo, dear, Mary will be in her 
 own room. Lie down now." 
 
 The phase of gentleness had passed, and 
 Leo turned upon him almost savagely, in 
 her furious contempt. 
 
 " Lie down ! Lie down ! as if I were a 
 door 1 Oh ! there must be an end to this. 
 There must be an end to this." 
 
 She had partly opened the door so as to 
 speak to her brother, but now she closed it 
 loudly, and they heard her walking excitedly 
 to and fro.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING. 
 
 "I FEAEED it," said North, as he returned 
 from the bedroom, where he had left Leo 
 with the servants, who stood staring help- 
 lessly at her, and listening to her ravings 
 about the mare, the plunge into the cold 
 river, and the injured shoulder. "Vioknt 
 fever and delirium. Poor girl ! what could 
 we expect? Heated with her ride, the fall, 
 the sudden plunge into the water, and then a 
 long, slow ride in the drenched garments." 
 
 " Do you think she is very ill ? " said Mary 
 anxiously. 
 
 '* Very ; but not dangerously, I hope. 
 There, trust to me, and I will do every- 
 thing I can. You must have a good nurse
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING. 137 
 
 at once. Those women are worse than use- 
 less, ril send on my housekeeper." 
 
 **But you are not going?" cried Salis, 
 with the look of alarm so commonly directed 
 at a doctor. 
 
 "My dear boy — only to fetch medicine. 
 I'll not be long ; and mind this : she must 
 not leave her room now. She must be kept 
 there at any cost." 
 
 " And I am so helpless, Hartley," whis- 
 pered Mary piteously. "It is so hard to 
 bear." 
 
 The curate bent down and kissed her, 
 and then, taking his place by the bedroom 
 door, he remained to carry out the instruc- 
 tions he had received. 
 
 They were necessary, for he had not been 
 there five minutes before the delirious crirl 
 rose from her couch, and there was an angry 
 outcry on the part of the women. She in- 
 sisted upon going to the stable to see to her 
 mare. It was being neglected ; and it was 
 only by the exercise of force that she was 
 kept in the rooip. 
 
 Before half-an-hour had passed, the doctor
 
 168 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 was back, and quiet, firm Mrs. Milt, who 
 put ofi" lier crotchety ways in the face of 
 this trouble, took her place by the bedside, 
 and with good effect ; for, partly soothed 
 by the old woman's firm management, and 
 partly by the strong opiate the doctor had 
 administered, Leo sank into a restless sleep, 
 in which she kept on muttering incoherently, 
 the only portions of her speech at all con- 
 nected being those dealing with her acci- 
 dent, which seemed to her to be repeated 
 again and again. 
 
 It was towards ten o'clock, as the doctor 
 was returning by the short cut of the fields 
 to the Kectory, after having been home for 
 a short time, that he caught sight of a couple 
 of figures a short distance over the stile 
 leading down to the meadows, through 
 which the little river ran. 
 
 " Humph ! " he muttered, as, in spite of 
 the darkness, he recognised the figures, his 
 own steps being hushed by the moist pasture, 
 and the couple too intent upon their con- 
 versation to hear him pass. 
 
 " Humph ! " he said ; " poor old More-
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING. 169 
 
 dock is right, perhaps, about the girl. Con- 
 founded hard upon the people to have such 
 a scoundrel loose among them." 
 
 He half-hesitated, as if he felt that it was 
 his duty to interfere, but there was too 
 much earnest work at the Eectory for him 
 to speak at a time like this. And, besides, 
 he could not have explained why, but the 
 thouo^ht seemed to afford him somethinor like 
 satisfaction, for it was evident that if Tom 
 Candlish had stooped to court pretty Dally 
 Watlock, the Eectory servant, everything 
 must have long been at an end between Leo 
 and the squire's brother, the thrashing ad- 
 ministered by Mr. Salis having been effectual 
 in its way. 
 
 He was extremely anxious, too, about 
 Leo ; for unconsciously a new interest was 
 awakening in him, and he felt that no case 
 in w^hich he had been encrao-ed had ever 
 caused him more anxiety than this. So he 
 hurried on to his patient's room, where the 
 fever was growing more intense, and the 
 flushed face was rolled from side to side upon 
 the white pillow.
 
 170 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 ^^Just the same, sir," said Mrs. Milt, as 
 lie asked a few eager questions. " She's been 
 going on like that ever since you left. Isn't 
 she very bad ? Hark at her breath." 
 
 "Very bad, Milt," said the doctor gravely; 
 "and if matters go on like this 1 shall send 
 over to King's Hampton for " 
 
 "No, no ; don't you do that, sir," said the 
 old housekeeper sharply. "If you can't save 
 her no one can." 
 
 " Why, Milt ! " exclaimed the doctor 
 wonderingl}^ 
 
 " Oh ! you needn't look like that, sir. I 
 know you. It's a deal of wherrit you give 
 me with your awkward ways and irregular 
 hours ; but I will say this for you, there isn't 
 a cleverer doctor going." 
 
 " And yet you walked over to King's 
 Hampton to the other doctor when you 
 were ill." 
 
 '^ Well, you had put me out so just then, 
 and I felt as if I would sooner have died 
 than come to you." 
 
 " Ugh ! you obstinate old thing," said 
 North. "There, I'm ooino^ down to talk to 
 
 "I
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING. 171 
 
 Mr. Salis for a while ; then I shall come and 
 take your place for six hours while you go 
 and lie dowu." 
 
 "Oh!" ejaculated Mrs. Milt; and she 
 tightened her lips and remained silent for a 
 few moments, while her master re-examined 
 his patient. Then, drawiug herself up : ''I 
 may be obstinate, sir, but I think I know my 
 duty in a case of illness. Tm here to watch 
 by Miss Leo Salis's bedside, and here I'm 
 going to stay." 
 
 " Mrs. Milt," said the doctor sternly, " the 
 first duty of a nurse is to obey instructions, 
 as you w^ell know. Now, no more talking, 
 but sit down till I return." 
 
 Mrs. Milt looked tiohter than ever, and 
 her rigid stay-bone gave a crack, but she 
 obeyed ; while the doctor went down to where 
 Salis and Mary w^ere anxiously awaiting his 
 report. 
 
 *' I meant to have had some tea ready 
 for you," said Mary, after hearing what he 
 had to say; "but Dally is missiug. She 
 must have o-one to her oTandfather's cot- 
 taixe. 
 
 'r^
 
 172 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 The doctor uttered a loud " Humph ! '* and 
 then remarked that he could wait. 
 
 He had to wait some time, as Dally had 
 gone to keep an appointment in the mea- 
 dows, and had come upon a figure leaning 
 against a great willow pollard on the river's 
 brink. 
 
 The figure started forward out of the dark- 
 ness and caught her arm, with the result that 
 Dally uttered a little affected squeal. 
 
 " La, Mr. Candlish 1 how you made me 
 jump ! " 
 
 *' Why, what brings you here ? " he cried, 
 passing his arm round the girl's waist. 
 
 *' Now, do adone, sir ; you've no business 
 to touch me like that. What w^ould Joe 
 Ch egg say ? " 
 
 " That I was a wise man, and that it was 
 the prettiest little waist in Duke's Hampton." 
 
 " Please keep your fine speeches for Miss 
 Leo, and talk about her waist, sir, and let 
 me go. I only come for a walk." 
 
 " Nonsense ! tell me. You've got a mes- 
 
 sage 
 
 "No, I haven't."
 
 WHAT DALLY WAS DOING. 173 
 
 *' You — you have a letter ? " 
 
 "No," said Dally, shaking her head, and 
 struggling just a little for appearance' sake. 
 
 *'Is she coming, then ?" 
 
 " No, she isn't ; for she's too ill." 
 
 " Eh ? Nonsense ! " 
 
 ^' But indeed she is, sir, and confined to 
 her bed." 
 
 *' And she sent you, Dally. Oh ! how good 
 of her." 
 
 " No, nor she didn't send me neither, Mr. 
 Candlish ; and do let go. You shouldn't." 
 
 " Has she caught a cold. Dally ? " 
 
 " Horrid bad one ; and she's gone right 
 ofi" her head." 
 
 ** Gammon!" 
 
 " She has, indeed, sir ; and me and cook 
 had to hold her down : she was so bad." 
 
 " Hold her down ? " 
 
 "Yes; and she kept on talking in a 
 hurry like, all about the hunting and falling 
 in the water." 
 
 "Did she say anything about me?" said 
 Tom Candlish eagerly. 
 
 " About you ? 1 should think not, indeed.
 
 174 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 You men seem to think that ladies are 
 always thinking about you. Such stuff!" 
 
 Then a long amount of whispering took 
 place, Tom CaDcIlish being one of those 
 gentlemen who never fret after the absent, 
 but possess a sailor-like power of taking the 
 good the gods provide. 
 
 At the end of five minutes there was the 
 sound of a smart smack — not a kiss, but the 
 contact of a palm upon a cheek. 
 
 Then, from out the darkness came the 
 expression, "You saucy jade!" following 
 upon the rush of feet in flight. 
 
 A minute later the swinsf crate leadinsr 
 into the Eectory grounds was heard to clap 
 to, and Tom Candlish stopped in his pursuit 
 and walked home across the fields.
 
 CHAPTER XVII I. 
 
 LEO MAKES A CONFESSIOX. 
 
 '' Yes, doctor, Vm. better, and you needn't 
 come again." 
 
 "Yes, you're better, Moredock. Seen any 
 more ghosts ? " 
 
 "Nay; I never see no ghosts. I only see 
 what I did see ; but how's young miss up 
 yonder ? " 
 
 Horace North's brow wrinkled, and his 
 voice sounded stern. 
 
 "Hi, Moredock — seriously ill. Violent 
 fever." 
 
 " Fever — fever ! " said the old man, back- 
 ing away with unwonted excitement. 
 
 " Yes, fever, you selfish old rascal ! " cried 
 the doctor irascibly. "You oughtn't to be
 
 176 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 afraid of catching a fever at your time of 
 life." 
 
 "But I am, doctor — I am," said the old 
 man, with a peculiar change in his voice. 
 ''You see, Fve just been ill, and it would 
 be very hard to be ill again. Is — is it 
 ketching ? " 
 
 '' No ! " roared the doctor angrily ; ** not 
 at all. There, take care of yourself, and 
 don't go to the church again in the dark." 
 
 ''I shall go to the church as often as I 
 like and when I like,'' grumbled the old man. 
 " It's my church ; but, I say, doctor, is it 
 likely to be — eh ? — you know — ^job for meV 
 
 North looked at him with an expression of 
 horror and loathing that made the old man 
 stare. 
 
 " Why, you hideous old ghoul 1 " he cried ; 
 " do you want me to strangle you ? Ugh ! " 
 
 He hurried out of the cottage, and More- 
 dock rose slowly and followed him as far as 
 the door. 
 
 '' What's he mean by that ? Gool ? 
 What's a gool ? He's been drinking. I 
 see his hand shake : that's what's the
 
 LEO MAKES A CONFESSION. 177 
 
 matter with him ; and I'm glad he hasn't 
 got to mix no physic for me this morning. 
 Now, I wonder what he takes. Them 
 doctors goes into their sudgeries, and mixes 
 theirselves drops as makes 'em on direckly. 
 Old Borton used to, and I buried him. He's 
 making a bad job of it up at the Rectory, 
 and he's drinking, but I put him out by 
 speaking of it. Ay, there he goes in at the 
 Rect'ry gate. Wonder whether they'll have 
 a tomb for her, or a plain grave." 
 
 Leo Salis had looked for some hours past 
 as if one or the other would be necessary, 
 and Moredock's words had seemed to Xorth 
 as if each bore a sting. 
 
 So bad was the patient that when he 
 reached the Rectory that day he decided to 
 stay. 
 
 " I'd say, send for other advice directly, 
 Salis, ' he said drearily ; " but if you had the 
 heads of the profession here, they could do 
 nothing but wait. The fever will run its 
 course. We can do nothiucr but watch." 
 
 ** And pray," said Salis sternly. 
 
 " And pray," said the doctor, repeating 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 TB"^ MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 his words. ** Will you send over to the 
 town, and telegraph ? " 
 
 ''No," replied the curate. " I have confi- 
 dence in you, North." 
 
 He said no more, but turned into his 
 study to hide his emotion, while North 
 crossed to where poor helpless Mary lay 
 back in her chair, looking white and ten 
 years older as her eyes sought his, dumbly 
 asking for comfort. 
 
 He took her hand, and kissed it, retaining 
 it in his for a few minutes, as he stood talking 
 to her, trying to instil hope, and little think- 
 ing of the agony he caused. 
 
 '' I'll go to her now," he said. " There j 
 try and be hopeful and help me to cheer up 
 poor Hartley. He wants comfort badly. 
 I'll come and tell you myself if there is any 
 change." 
 
 *' The truth," said Mary faintly. 
 *'The truth? Yes: to you," he said mean- 
 ingly ; and his words seemed to convey that 
 she was so old in sufi'ering that she could 
 bear to be told anything, though perhaps it 
 miaht be withheld from her brother.
 
 LEO MAKES A CONFESSION. 179 
 
 Mrs. Milt, who had been an untiring- 
 watcher by the sick-bed, made her report — 
 one that she had had to repeat again and 
 aorain — of restless mutterinors and delirium : 
 otherwise no change. 
 
 " No, ]\Irs. Milt, we have not reached the 
 climax yet," said North, sighing. 
 
 '' There, go and lie down, my good soul," 
 he added after a short examination; '^you 
 must be tired out." 
 
 '* Tired, but not tired out, sir," said the 
 old lady. "Poor child! she has something 
 on her mind, too, which frets her." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said North. 
 
 ''Yes," continued Mrs. Milt, in a whisper. 
 " She keeps muttering about telling him 
 somethinoj — confessino- she calls it some- 
 times." 
 
 " Some old trouble come up into her 
 brain," said the doctor ; and he sat down by 
 the bedside, to gaze at Leo's flushed face as 
 she lay there with her eyes half closed, 
 apparently sleeping heavily now. 
 
 '*Not yet, not yet," sighed North, as he 
 took the hot, dry hand in his, and a shiver 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 ran through him as he thought of the old 
 sexton's words, and wondered whether he 
 would be able to save her — so 3^oung and 
 beautiful — from so sad a fate. 
 
 " Poor child ! " he said, half aloud ; and 
 then he sat on, hour after hour, wondering 
 whether it would be possible to do more ; 
 whether he had done everything that medi- 
 cal skill could devise ; and finally, as he 
 came to the conclusion that he had tho- 
 roughly done his duty by his patient, his 
 heart sank, and he owned to himself that in 
 some instances he and the rest of the 
 disciples of the great profession were singu- 
 larly impotent, and merely attendants on 
 Nature's will. 
 
 Salis came up from time to time, to enter 
 the room softly, and mutely interrogate 
 his friend, and then go sadly back to his 
 study — where Mary sat with him — to give 
 her such news as he had to bear, and join 
 with her in watching and praying for the 
 wilful sister they both so dearly loved. 
 
 It was getting towards nine o'clock on the
 
 LEO MAKES A COXFESSIOX. ISl 
 
 gloomy, stormy winter's night when, after 
 softly replenishing the fire, as North was re- 
 turning to his place by the bed, he heard 
 a faint sicrh, and bendins; down over his 
 patient, he found that her eyes were wide 
 open — not in a fixed, delirious stare, full of 
 excitement, but calm and subdued, while a 
 sweet smile passed into her expression as 
 his face neared hers. 
 
 " Is that dreadful old woman there ?" she 
 whispered. 
 
 ''No," he said, laying his hand upon her 
 forehead. "I am alone." 
 
 '' Then I will speak," she said, in a low, 
 passionate voice. " You have not known — 
 you have not believed it possible — but tell 
 me, I have been very ill ? " 
 
 "Yes," he said gently, "you have been 
 ill ; but don't talk — try and rest." 
 
 *' I have been very ill, and I may die, and 
 then you would never know," she whispered 
 quickly. "It is no time, then, for a foolish, 
 girlish reserve. I may have been light and 
 frivolous — coquettish too — but beneath it
 
 182 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 all I have loved you, and you alone. I do 
 love you with all my heart.'' 
 
 Two soft, white arms were thrown about 
 Horace North's neck, to draw him closer to 
 his patient's gently heaving breast.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WAS IT DELIRIUM? 
 
 " Leo, my child, think what you are saying," 
 cried North. 
 
 " I do think. I have lain here and thought 
 for hours. I am not ashamed to confess it. 
 Why should I be?" 
 
 She looked up at him inquiringly; while 
 he for the moment felt giddy with emotion, 
 but recovered himself directly. 
 
 " She is delirious, poor child," he said to 
 himself; and he tried to remove the enlacing 
 arms from his neck. 
 
 " No, no ; don't leave me," she said 
 softly. "Don't be angry with me for saying 
 this." 
 
 '* I am not angry, but you are weak.
 
 184 te:e man with a shadow. 
 
 You have been very ill, and you must not 
 be excited now." 
 
 " No, I am not excited. I only feel happy 
 — so happy. You are not angry ? " 
 
 " Angry ? No," he said tenderly. '* There, 
 let me lay you back upon your pillow. Try 
 and sleep." 
 
 *' No. I do not wish to sleep. Only tell 
 me once again that you are not cross, and 
 then sit down by me, and let me hold your 
 hand." 
 
 "Poor girl!" muttered North, as he felt 
 the hands which had clasped his neck steal 
 down his arm softly and lingeringly, as if 
 they delighted in its strength and muscu- 
 larity, resting for a few moments upon his 
 wrist, and then grasping his hand tightly, 
 while their owner uttered a low sigh of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 He seated himself by the bedside, and 
 Leo said softly, as she lay gazing into his 
 eyes : 
 
 " I feel so happy and restful now." 
 
 " And as if you can sleep ? " 
 
 " Sleep ? No. Let me lie and look at
 
 Trj.S IT DELIEIUM^ 185 
 
 you. Don't speak, I want to think. Shall 
 I die ? " 
 
 ''Die *? No ; you must get better now, and 
 grow strong, for Mary's sake and for Hartley's." 
 
 ''And for yours," said Leo softly, as she 
 smiled lovingly in his face. " I shall be your 
 wife if I live." 
 
 " You shall live, and grow to be happy 
 with all who love you." 
 
 " Yes," she said softly, " with all who love 
 me ; " and she closed her eyes. 
 
 '•' It is delirium, poor child," said North 
 to himself. " Good heavens ! am I such a 
 scoundrel as to think otherwise ? " 
 
 He sat back in his chair startled by the 
 thoughts which had surged up to his brain. 
 He was horrified. For, in spite of medical 
 teachinof, of his thorouojh command over 
 himself, and of the fact that he had always 
 been one whose love was his profession, he 
 had found that he was strongly moved by 
 the words and acts of the beautiful girl who 
 had seemed to be laying bare the secrets of 
 her heart. 
 
 " Delirium — delirium ! the workings of a
 
 186 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 distempered brain," lie said to himself 
 fiercely. " Grood heavens ! am I going to 
 be delirious too ? " 
 
 At that moment Leo opened her eyes 
 again, with a calm, soft light seeming to 
 burn therein, as she smiled in his face and 
 drew his hand more to her pillow so that 
 she could rest her cheek upon it, and once 
 more her eyes half closed ; but he knew 
 that she was gazino; at him still with the same 
 soft, loving look which, in spite of his self- 
 control, made his heart beat with a dull, 
 heavy throb. 
 
 " I have so longed to tell you all this," 
 she whispered ; '' but I never dared till 
 now. It has made me bitter, and distant, 
 and strange to you. I was angry with 
 myself for loving you ; and yet I could not 
 help it. You made me love you. I always 
 did — I always shall." 
 
 " It is delirium," panted North. '^ I will 
 not listen to her. Pah ! it is absurd. Where 
 is my manliness — where are all my honour- 
 able feelings ? " I can master such folly, 
 and I will." 

 
 WAS IT BELIBIUM? 187 
 
 He set his teeth, aud his face grew hard 
 and cold ; but all the same his pulses quick- 
 ened, and as he sat prisoned there, with 
 those soft, lustrous eyes gazing into his, he 
 found that he was dreaming of another life 
 in which his scientific researches would be 
 forgotten in the sweet, dreamy, sensuous 
 existence which would be his — enlaced in that 
 loving embrace, while those eyes gazed in 
 his as they were gazing now, and those curved 
 lips returned his kisses or murmured tenderly 
 as once more they whispered the secrets of 
 her breast. 
 
 " It has been so long. I have been so ill ; 
 but I do not complain, for it has made me 
 free to speak to you as I speak now. No, 
 no ; don't take away your hand. Let me 
 rest like that." 
 
 He was softly stealing away his hand, but 
 she clung to it the more tightly, and her 
 white teeth glistened between her ruby lips 
 in a smile that was half mockinof: 
 
 He heaved a deep sigh, and resigned him- 
 self to his position, while the new thoughts 
 which came surg:iDO' on in a flood began to
 
 188 th:e man with a shadow. 
 
 sweep everything before them. She had 
 been delirious, but there was no delirium 
 here. She loved him. This young and 
 beautiful girl, to whom for years he had 
 given no thought save as the sister of his 
 old friend, loved him passionately, and he 
 knew now the meaning of the ideas which 
 had troubled him for days — he must — he did 
 love her in return. 
 
 But he was not beaten yet. A flush rose 
 to his forehead and he set his teeth hard, as 
 he recalled his position — the confidence re- 
 posed in him as a medical man — a confidence 
 which he seemed to be abusing ; and draw- 
 ing his breath deeply, he resolved that he 
 would be man enough to resist this tempta- 
 tion now Leo was weak and excited. She was 
 yielding to her impulse as she would not have 
 yielded had she been strong and well ; hence 
 he would be taking an unmanly advantage if 
 he trespassed upon her weakness now. 
 
 His course was open ; his mind clear. He 
 would be tender and kind to her now. After 
 she was well he could listen to her confes- 
 sions of love as a lover should ; and as the
 
 WAS IT DELIRIUM? 189 
 
 thought expanded in his brain that he would 
 call this lovinor orirl wife, he wondered how it 
 was that he could have been so dull and 
 cold before — how it was that love should 
 have been shut from his mental vision as 
 by a veil ? And he sat gazing at his patient, 
 almost dazzled by the bright light which 
 seemed to be shed upon his future, till Hartley 
 softlv entered the room. 
 
 " Any change ? " he whispered. 
 
 North glanced at the bed, and his heart 
 beat fast. Leo was again sleeping uneasily, 
 and muttering in a low whisper. To an 
 ordinary observer there seemed to be 
 none, but to Horace Xorth there was an 
 enormous change, and he asked himself 
 whether he should speak now or wait. 
 
 He could not speak then of the subject 
 nearest to his heart. He and Salis had 
 always been the most intimate of friends — 
 almost brothers — and they would be quite 
 brothers in the future ; but he could not 
 tell him then. 
 
 *' She seems calmer," he whispered. " She 
 was awake and talkinof a little while a^o."
 
 190 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 ^' What— lucidly— sensibly ? " 
 
 In spite of himself North could not help 
 a start as he turned and met his friend's eye, 
 while his words were slow and constrained 
 as he said, in a hesitating manner : 
 
 ''Yes ; I think so. But she is very weak." 
 And the mental question insisted upon being 
 heard — Was she speaking sensibly, and as 
 one in the full possession of her senses ? 
 
 " -North, old fellow, this is great news," 
 cried the curate. " Heaven be thanked ! I 
 must go and tell Mary." 
 
 He was hurrying from the room, but 
 his friend caught his arm. 
 
 '' No, no ; not yet," he said hurriedly. 
 " I would not raise her hopes too much." 
 
 *' Not when she is starving for the merest 
 crumb of comfort ? I must tell her." 
 
 " Then be content to say I think she is a 
 trifle better," whispered North. 
 
 *' But the climax must have come and 
 gone ? " 
 
 " I — I am not sure. The case is peculiar. 
 Do as I say, and give her the crumb of
 
 WAS IT BELIBIUM? 191 
 
 comfort of which you spoke. To-morrow, 
 perhaps, I can speak more definitely." 
 
 Hartley Salis left the room, and North 
 once more bent over the bed. His heart 
 beat, his pulses throbbed, and the nerves in 
 his temples seemed to tingle, as he laid his 
 hand upon the burning brow, placed a finger 
 upon the wrist, where the pulse beat so 
 hard and pitifully, while, when he softly raised 
 one of the blue-veined eyelids and gazed at 
 the pupil, he drew back slowly, and shaded 
 the sick girl's face from the light. 
 
 It was growing late, the wind howled 
 mournfully about the house, and from time 
 to time there was a soft, patting noise at the 
 window, as of some one tapping the panes 
 with finger-tips. So high was the wind 
 without that the candle flames were at times 
 wafted to and fro. 
 
 Horace North had left the bedside, and 
 was standing with his foot upon the fender, 
 gazing down into the tiny glowing caverns 
 in the fire, where the cinders fell together 
 from time to time with a peculiar musical
 
 192 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 sound — the sound that strikes a watchers 
 oar so strangely in the long hours of the 
 night. 
 
 His thoughts were wild, and a tempest 
 was rasjins: in his breast as furious as that 
 without. Love had made its first attack 
 upon a strong man, and the wound w^as 
 rankling. His brain was confused. He 
 
 a 
 
 was almost giddy with his new sensations, 
 astonished at the position in which he found 
 himself. 
 
 He had been keen enough man of the 
 world to understand Mrs. Berens' tender, 
 shrinking advances, and they had been to 
 him by turns a cause of annoyance and of 
 mirth. But this was a novel and an in- 
 tense delio^ht. He could not have believed 
 that he could be so moved. 
 
 It was a hard fight, but the man of honour 
 won. 
 
 " I am her brother's friend ; I am her 
 medical attendant," he mused; "and neither 
 by word nor look will I betray what passes 
 in my heart till she is well. Then I, too, will 
 lay bare the secret I shall hide."
 
 WAS IT DELIEIUM? 193 
 
 " And if she speaks to you again as she 
 spoke awhile ago — what then ? " 
 
 It was as if a soft voice had whispered 
 those w^ords in his ear, and he shivered as he 
 asked himself, " What shall I say ? " 
 
 " It is all madness," he cried fiercely — 
 '' utter madness. They were the outpour- 
 incrs of her diseased brain. Am I o-rowin^ 
 into an idiot ? Has much study of the 
 occult wonders of our life half turned my 
 brain ? '"' 
 
 He walked quickly to the bed, took up 
 the candle, and let its light fall upon the 
 flushed face for a few moments, a face look- 
 ing so beautifully attractive with its wealth 
 of rich hair tossed away over the white 
 pillow. 
 
 He set down the candle, and pressed his 
 hand softly once more upon her burning 
 brow, listening the while to the dull throb- 
 bings of his heart. 
 
 '' Yes, Horace Xorth," he said at last, 
 " you, the much-praised would-be savant, are 
 as weak as the weakest of your sex, ready 
 to be flattered into a passion by the first 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 tb:e man with a shadow. 
 
 sweet words which fall from a woman's lips. 
 You are strong in knowledge, you have 
 mastered endless difficulties, but you have 
 not mastered Horace North." 
 
 '* Fool — fool — fool ! " he whispered to him- 
 self, after a pause ; " with all your study 
 to be so ready to rush to such a belief — 
 ready to forget the trust reposed in you by 
 a true man, by his sweet-minded sister, and, 
 as it were, by you, my poor helpless girl. 
 Spoken in your wild delirium, my child — 
 the emanations of a young girl's brain, of 
 one whose waking thoughts must, Nature 
 taught, be almost always of who is to be 
 your mate through life. Yau opened the 
 secret casket of your heart, my child, when 
 helpless and without control, and I have 
 gazed therein with prying eyes. But sleep 
 in peace ; they shall be secrets still. Yes," 
 he added, once more, as he drew steadily 
 back — " delirium : she knows not what she 
 says." 
 
 A sigh from the sleeper made him pause, 
 and then a low, musical laugh rang out, 
 followed by a quick muttering.
 
 WAS IT DELIBIUM? 195 
 
 Tlien once more the low laugh was heard, 
 and the mutterino; became louder — then 
 plainly heard, as if the speaker were in a 
 merry protesting mood. 
 
 '' You ask so much. Again ? Well, I will 
 confess. Yes, I do love you — with all my 
 poor weak heart ! " 
 
 2
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A VENERABLE OLD MAN. 
 
 ^' No, Moreclock, I am not going to find more 
 fault, and I am not going to complain to the 
 rector. If you had been a young man, with 
 chances of getting work elsewhere, I should 
 have had you discharged at once." 
 
 '' Ay, discharged at once," said the old 
 man, trying to bite his livid lip with one 
 very yellow old tooth, as he stood in the 
 vestry doorway, looking down at the curate. 
 
 '* But as you are a venerable old man " 
 
 *' Gently, Parson Salis ; a bit old, but not 
 venerable,'' grumbled the sexton. 
 
 " 1 shall look over it, and not disturb 
 
 you for the short time you have to live upon 
 this earth. But ^"
 
 A VENERABLE OLD MAN. 197 
 
 "Now, don't go on like that, sir, and 
 don't get talking about little time on earth. 
 I may live a many years." 
 
 "I hope you will, Moredock," said the 
 curate, taking; out the ciojar-case he had 
 started at North's recommendation, and 
 carefully selecting a cigar before replacing 
 it ; '' and I hope you will bitterly repent. 
 If vou had come to me and asked me I 
 woukl have given you a bottle of wine, but 
 for a trusted servant of the church to take 
 
 advantage of his position and steal " 
 
 *'On'y borri'd it, sir." 
 " I say steal, Moredock. It was a wicked 
 theft," said Sails sternly. "The wine kept 
 
 here for sacramental purposes " 
 
 " But it w^as only in the cupboard." 
 " It was a wicked theft, sir." 
 "And it's poor sweet stuff; no more like 
 the drop o' port Squire Candlish give me 
 than treacle and water's like gin." 
 
 "You're a scoundrelly old reprobate, 
 Moredock." 
 
 "No, I arn't, parson. I'm a good old 
 sarvant o' the church. Here have I been
 
 198 th:ej man with a shadow, 
 
 ill, as doctor '11 tell you, and I was took bad 
 in the church o' Saturday, and you'd ha'' 
 done the same, and took a drop o' the wine." 
 
 " And you've been taken bad Saturday 
 after Saturday for months past, eh, sir ? " 
 said the curate sternly. 
 
 ^' Been out of order for a long bit, sir," 
 grumbled Moredock, shuffling from foot to 
 foot like a scolded schoolboy. 
 
 ** You old scoundrel ! " said the curate,, 
 half rising from his seat in the dim vestry, 
 where the surplices and gowns, hung against 
 the old oak panels, seemed like a jury listen- 
 ing to the sexton's impeachment. "You old 
 scoundrel ! " he said again, shaking the cigar 
 at him, as if it were a little staff. '' It's quite 
 a year since I began missing the wine, and 
 I w^ould not — I could not — suspect you. Why, 
 I should as soon have thought that you would 
 rob the alms box." 
 
 The old man started, as if his guilty con- 
 science needed no accuser, for he had more 
 than once helped himself to a silver coin 
 from the box within the south door, telling^ 
 himself that the alms \vere for the poor, and
 
 A VEX ER ABLE OLD MAN, 199 
 
 that he was one of that extremely large fringe 
 of rags npon civilisation. 
 
 " Well," continued the curate, " I shall 
 to some extent condone this very serious 
 offence, Moredock, for I cannot find it in 
 my heart to prosecute an old man of over 
 ninety ; so now go, and I sincerely hope that 
 you will repent." 
 
 " Ay, I'll repent, parson ; but it wouldn't 
 ha' been much loss to ha' been turned out o' 
 being saxton. Nobody dies now, and no 
 one gets married. How's Miss Leo ? " 
 
 " Getting quite strong again." 
 
 "That's a blessing, sir," grumbled the old 
 man, who in spirit abused the young girl 
 for defrauding him of certain fees. *' Health's 
 a blessing, sir." 
 
 *' Yes, Moredock, it is," said the curate, 
 
 rismg. 
 
 ''x\nd I thankye kindly, sir, for looking 
 over the wine, I do. You needn't lock it 
 up. I won't touch it again.' 
 
 "I shall not lock it up, Moredock. My 
 forgiveness is full. I shall trust you as if this 
 had never occurred."
 
 200 TEJE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Thankye, parson. That's han'some." 
 
 *'But let me have no more complaints. 
 You must do your duty, as I try to do 
 mine." 
 
 ''Ay, parson, and I will," said the old 
 sexton, following his superior to the door 
 leading out to the churchyard, where Salis 
 stopped and took a box of vestas from his 
 230cket, as he stood just outside the old stone 
 doorway, where a stone corbel with a de- 
 moniacal expression of countenance seemed 
 to be leering by his shoulder as if in enjoy- 
 ment of what had taken place. 
 
 It was a sheltered corner for lii^htino^ a 
 cigar, and the curate, without pausing to 
 think, struck a match, and began to puff out 
 the smoke. 
 
 " Well, I've no right to speak, as between 
 parson and sax'on, sir ; but twix' old man 
 and young man, I do say — what would you 
 ha' said to me if you'd ketched me having a 
 pipe in the churchyard ? " . 
 
 *'Why, you old rascal, I've often seen 
 you smoking when you've been digging a 
 trrave."
 
 A VENERABLE OLD MAN. 201 
 
 " Not often, parson ; because one never 
 hardly gets a grave to dig. I have had a 
 pipe sometimes when my chesty has felt a 
 bit weak." 
 
 " I deserve your reproof, Moredock," said 
 the curate, putting out his cigar. " I have 
 taken to smoking so much that I find myself 
 li^htino- cio-ars at all times and seasons, and I 
 am greatly to blame here." 
 
 " Xay, nay, I shan't say no more," said 
 the old man, calmly taking the place of re- 
 prover instead of being reproved ; " but try 
 a pipe, parson. Worth a dozen cigars. Stop a 
 moment, sir, I wants another word with you." 
 
 " Yes. What about ? " 
 
 "My gran'child, Dally, parson. I arn't 
 saddersfied there." 
 
 "Why, Moredock?" 
 
 "Because I don't think you looks arter 
 her morals as you should. ' Send her to me, 
 Moredock,' you says, ' and me and the young- 
 ladies will take every care on her." 
 
 " I did, Moredock ; and we have." 
 
 '•' Nay, you haven't, sir ; or else she 
 wouldn't o'o on as she do."
 
 202 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " What do you mean, man ? " 
 
 ''Along o' young Tom Candlish, squire's 
 brother, sir." 
 
 " Is this true ? " 
 
 "True, sir? Course it is. Don't I say 
 so ? I've ketched 'em together over and over 
 again." 
 
 " Tut — tut — tut ! this must be stopped," 
 cried Salis angrily. '*Did you speak to 
 him ? " 
 
 "Ay, I spoke to him." 
 
 " What did he say ? " 
 
 " Called I an old fool." 
 
 ''But your grandchild. Did you speak 
 to her ? " 
 
 "Ay, course I did ; but you might as well 
 talk to yon cobble. She just laughed, and 
 give her pretty head a toss. She is a pretty 
 gal, parson." 
 
 " Far too pretty, Moredock." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know 'bout that, sir. Think 
 young Tom wants to marry her ? I'll put 
 down a hundred pound the day she's wed." 
 
 " You will, Moredock ? Why, I thought 
 you were very poor."
 
 A VENERABLE OLD MAN. 203 
 
 ''So I am, parson, so I am; but I've saved 
 up for the gal. But you keep her in more ; 
 it'll make him more hungry arter her, and 
 I'd like to see her mistress up at the Hall." 
 
 *' Moredock !" cried the curate, in horrible 
 perplexity. 
 
 '' Well, I should," said the old man, grin- 
 ning. '' vSquire's drinking hisself to death as 
 fast as he can, and he won't marry ; so young 
 Tom's sure to get the place. But you keep 
 her in." 
 
 " I will, Moredock," said the curate sternly, 
 and, in grave perplexity at the loose ideas of 
 morality existing in Duke's Hampton, he went 
 straight home, to find the doctor seated by 
 Mary's couch.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 '^ SOMETHING PARTICULAR TO SAY." 
 
 Horace North had sternly determined on 
 self-repression, and, from the moment when 
 the crisis of Leo's fever had left her utterly 
 prostrate, he had set himself the almost 
 superhuman task of saving her from the 
 grave. 
 
 He had treated his patient with a gentle- 
 ness and care that gradually won upon her, 
 harsh and distant as she was by nature ; so 
 that at last, after the first fits of wearing fret- 
 fulness were over, she began to greet him with 
 a welcoming smile, and seemed happier when 
 he sat down and stayed chatting to her by her 
 bed. 
 
 On that night when the passionate avowals
 
 "SOMETHIXG PAETICULAE TO SAYr 205 
 
 had been uttered she had sunk back into a 
 violent fit of delirium ; and since then, in all 
 his long hours of watchiug, no word of love 
 had passed her lips — no kindly look her eyes. 
 
 North was disappointed and touched to 
 the quick, for he watched for her loving looks, 
 listened for her tender words. 
 
 On the other hand, in his calmer moments 
 he was pleased, for it made his task the 
 lighter. He could repress himself until such 
 time as his patient were well and he could 
 honourably approach her to ask her to be^ 
 his wife. 
 
 He was not surprised at her petulance or 
 her irritability ; and even in her worst moods 
 he only smiled, as he thought of her past 
 sufferings and present weakness. This child- 
 like temper was the natural outcome of such 
 a fever, and would soon pass away. 
 
 " It is better as it is," he said, and he 
 toiled away, neglecting his studies, his great 
 discovery, all for Leo's sake, that she might 
 live and grow strong once more. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " he thought ; and as 
 she unconsciously suffered his attentions,.
 
 206 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 receiving them as her right, as if she were a 
 queen, Mary drank in all, and read the 
 doctor's heart to the very deepest cell. 
 
 But she made no sign. It was her lot to 
 suffer, and she would bear all in silent 
 patience to the end, working to make others 
 happy if she could, but sorrowing the more, 
 as she wished well to North, and tried to 
 believe that, after all, Leo might change, 
 and worthily return his love. 
 
 For, after seeino^ her home, Tom Oandlish 
 sent twice to know how Leo was. After 
 that he seemed to take no further notice, 
 though he really spent his time in asking 
 Dally Watlock about her mistress, as he 
 called it — questions which took a long time 
 to ask and longer to gain replies. 
 
 Leo never mentioned his name, but lay 
 back reading, setting aside the book wearily 
 wdien any one seemed disposed to converse, 
 and taking up the book again as soon as 
 whoever it was had done. 
 
 Salis entered the room where North was 
 seated conversing with Mary, whose pinched 
 face bore a slidit colour as she listened to
 
 ''SOMETEIXG PABTICULAE TO SAY:' 207 
 
 his words, something he was saying being 
 interrupted by the brother's entrance. 
 
 " Ah, here you are ! " cried North warmly. 
 '•' I have stayed to see you, for I have some- 
 thing particular to say." 
 
 ''That's right. At least, it is not bad 
 news, I hope." 
 
 " I hope good," said the doctor warmly, 
 and then he stopped awkwardly. 
 
 It had all seemed so easy to say in his 
 own room. Here it was terrible. 
 
 Mary's heart began to flutter, and a 
 piteous look came into her eyes ; but she 
 closed them g-ently, and a tear slowly welled 
 throuo;li from each. 
 
 ''Well, what is it? Nothingr fresh about 
 Tom Candlish, I hope ? " 
 
 "About him? No; nonsense! I wanted 
 to tell you that there is no further need for 
 me to attend your sister," sxid the doctor 
 clumsily. " She is nearly well now, and " 
 
 " My dear Horace, you have saved her 
 life I " 
 
 " No, no ; nonsense ! Only did as any 
 other medical man would have done."
 
 208 THE 3fAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '' I say she owes you lier life, and it will 
 be Leo's duty to remember that, and to 
 strive henceforth to render back to you " 
 
 *' If she only will ! " cried North excitedly, 
 as he sprang up and clasped his old friend's 
 hand. 
 
 For the ice was broken. He could speak 
 now% and as Mary looked up through a mist 
 of blindins^ tears he seemed to her like the 
 hero she had always painted — as the man 
 whom some day she might love. But for her 
 love was dead. 
 
 '* Wh}^, Horace, old man, what do you 
 mean ? " cried Salis, as Mary fought down a 
 wail of agony which strove to escape her 
 lips. 
 
 " What do I mean, Salis ? " cried the 
 doctor passionately ; '* why, that I love Leo 
 dearly, and I ask you to let me approach her, 
 and beg her to be my wife." 
 
 The curate sank into the nearest chair, and 
 sat gazing up at his friend. 
 
 '' Why, you don't seem I had hoped 
 
 Hartley, old fellow^ don't look at me 
 
 like that."
 
 '' SOMETHIXG PARTICULAB TO SAY." 209 
 
 '' I am very sorry." 
 
 " No, no ; don't speak in that way — so cold 
 and bitter." 
 
 '' Have you spoken to Leo — of your 
 love ? " 
 
 " Not a word. On my honour." 
 
 A sigh escaped Mary. 
 
 '' You need not say your honour, Horace, 
 old fellow," said the curate sadly. '' I did 
 once hope this, but that time has gone by, and 
 I can only say again I am very sorry." 
 
 " But why ?— why ? " 
 
 " Because," said the curate slowly, '' Leo 
 is not the woman to make you a happy 
 husband." 
 
 *' Nonsense, my dear boy. I — I believe 
 she loves me." 
 
 The curate shook his head. 
 
 "Ah! well," cried the young doctor joy- 
 ously ; ''we shall see. Tell me this : would 
 you accept me as your brother ? " 
 
 *'I already look upon you as a brother." 
 
 *' Then you will let me speak to Leo ? " 
 
 The curate paused a few moments, and 
 then in the gravest of tones said : 
 
 VOL. I, p
 
 210 THE MAN WITH A SHAHOVi. 
 
 ^' Yes." 
 
 "Now? At once?" 
 
 *' If you wish it," said Salis, after another 
 pause. 
 
 ''Then I will," said North. "I have 
 waited months, and borne agonies all 
 through her illness. Now I will be at 
 rest." 
 
 '' But " 
 
 Salis was too late, for hot, excited, and 
 strung up hard to the highest pitch of 
 excitement. North strode from the room, 
 while Salis stooped over Mary, and kissed 
 her. 
 
 " I am very sorry," he repeated : and a 
 couple of loving arms closed round his neck, 
 as Mary sobbed gently upon his breast. 
 
 Then brother and sister sat talking, for 
 the drawing-room door had closed, and they 
 could hear the low, dull murmurings of the 
 doctor's voice. 
 
 He had entered the drawing-room, where, 
 looking extremely beautiful in her negligee 
 habit, and refined by illness, Leo lay upon 
 her couch by the fire, for the spring was
 
 '' SOMETRING PARTICULAR TO SAY." 211 
 
 cold, and as he entered she lowered her book 
 and smiled. 
 
 It was a good augury, and with beating- 
 heart Horace North advanced and took her 
 hand — to ask this woman to be his wife. 
 
 p 2
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 DR. NOETH PROPOSES. 
 
 As Horace North took the hand of Leo 
 Salis in his, it was to find it soft and cool 
 and moist — very different from the burniDg 
 palm he had so often held a few months 
 since. It was without a tremble, but it sent 
 a thrill through him ; and with eyes flashing 
 and revellmg in his new joy, he was about 
 to speak, when she half threw herself back 
 in her chair with a movement of resignation 
 which came upon him like a douche. 
 
 He knew it so well. He read it and 
 understood it as plainly as if she had spoken. 
 It was the patient waiting for him to feel 
 her pulse. 
 
 " I thought you had given me up," she 
 said lightly.
 
 DU, XORTH PROPOSES, 213 
 
 » " 
 
 ** GiveD you up — you whom I love ! 
 
 Those were the words he wanted to say, 
 but they would not come now after the 
 damping he had received, and involuntarily 
 his fingers glided slowly to her wrist, and 
 he held them pressed against the calmly- 
 beating pulse, gazing down at her half-averted 
 eyes the while. 
 
 There was no coquetry, no playful manner ; 
 she was as calm and resigned as any patient 
 he had ever visited, and yet, time back, she 
 had clung to him, gazed passionately into 
 his eyes, and whispered of her love. 
 
 Was it delirium ? 
 
 He could not bring himself to say ; but 
 even if it were, she must at heart have 
 loved him, and in her abnormal state have 
 confessed what she would sooner have died 
 than said when well. 
 
 The moments glided by, and he still held 
 her wrist in the most professional manner, 
 till, apparently surprised, she raised her 
 eyebrows, opened her languid eyes, and 
 looked up at him. 
 
 ''"Well, doctor," she said, half laughing,
 
 214 THE MAN WITH A 8HAD0W. 
 
 " loth to part with your patient ? I am quite 
 wel]/' 
 
 He was dumb. A whirlwind of emotion 
 was sweeping through him, as he vainly 
 sought to shape his course. Could he tell 
 her of her passionate avowal, or would it be 
 too cowardly to take advantage of her past 
 weakness ? 
 
 He could not recall that — not now. Some 
 day, perhaps, he might ; but now he felt that 
 he must approach her unarmed. She was 
 delirious, and her brain must be a blank to 
 all that had passed, and he would speak 
 plainly — conventionally. 
 
 ''Why, doctor," she said at last, half 
 wonderingly, *' of what are you thinking ? " 
 
 " Thinking ? " he said hoarsely. 
 
 "Yes; you look so serious. Surely I am 
 not going to have a relapse ? '* 
 
 " Oh, no ! " he cried. 
 
 "Then why do you look at me like 
 this ? " 
 
 She asked him the question so naively, 
 as she half lay back in her place, that a cold 
 chill came upon him again, and, letting her
 
 DE. XORTH PROPOSES. 215 
 
 band fall, he took a turn to the window and 
 back, half ready to sav nothino; then ; but 
 nerving himself once more, he took a chair, 
 drew it to the lounge, and, seating himself 
 again, took her hand. 
 
 " Another inspection, doctor ? " she said, 
 half laughingly; and then, as she met his 
 eyes, she seemed to comprehend his meaning, 
 and tried to withdraw her hand, but he held 
 it tightly. 
 
 '' Do you know what I want to say to 
 you ? "' he said gravely. 
 
 '• What you wish to say ? " 
 
 '' Yes. There ! I cannot speak to you in 
 set terms, but do vou think I could know 
 you as I have known, have watched by you, 
 and tended you through all this terrible ill- 
 ness, with any other result ? Leo, I love 
 you ! Will you be my wife ? " 
 
 "Dr. North!" 
 
 Yes ; her mind must be a blank. There 
 was so much genuine surprise in her tone, 
 such a look of astonishment in her eyes, that 
 he knew it now without doubt, and his 
 emotion choked him for the moment, so
 
 216 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 great was the disappointment and despair 
 her tone evoked. 
 
 " You wonder at it, but wdiy should you ? 
 Listen to me, Leo " 
 
 " No, no ; stop — stop ! You are too hasty. 
 Let me think." 
 
 She put her hands to her tem^^les, and 
 looked at him half wonderingiy, half amusedly, 
 but to him it seemed as if she were trying 
 to recall somethinof, and he once more cauHit 
 Iier liand. 
 
 " You will listen to me. You will give 
 me your promise, Leo — dear Leo ! Y'ou seem 
 to belong to me, for I have, as it were, 
 brought you back from the dead. Tell me 
 you will be my wife." 
 
 She gave him a quick, keen glance that 
 was as if full of horror and revolt, but he 
 could not interpret it, and drew her hand 
 towards his breast. Then, with a quick 
 movement, and a pitying look at the man 
 for whom she felt something approaching 
 gratitude : 
 
 "No, no," she exclaimed; *'it is impos- 
 sible."
 
 LB. XOBTH PEOPOSES. 217 
 
 '' I have spoken hastily. I have taken 
 you by surprise," he cried. '' Only tell me 
 this : you do not hate me, Leo ? " 
 
 ^'Hate you? Oh, no. Dr. North," she 
 cried. *' Have we not always been great 
 friends ? Have you not saved my life ? " 
 
 "Let me be more than friend," he ex- 
 claimed ; and a curious look came into her 
 eyes, as he went on pouring forth in almost 
 incoherent terms his love for her, the intense 
 longing she had inspired. He could not 
 interjDret it — that it was full of mockery and 
 suppressed mirth, mingled with contempt. 
 
 "You do not speak," he said, at last. 
 " Give me some hope." 
 
 " What shall I say ? " she cried. " It is too 
 much to ask of me. You want me to promise." 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " and I will wait patiently 
 for the fulfilment of that promise." 
 
 "But I have thought so little of such a 
 thing," she said calmly. " You have taken 
 me so by surprise. I cannot — oh, I cannot 
 promise." 
 
 " But I may hope ? " he said. 
 
 "I cannot — I will not — promise," she said
 
 218 THE 3fAN WITH A SHAVOW. 
 
 firmly. '^I£ I marry it must be some one 
 who lias distino;uishecl himself, who has 
 made himself a name among the great 
 people of the world. I hate this humdrum 
 life, and this dull existence in the country. 
 The man I loved should be one of whom his 
 fellow-men talked because he had become 
 great and done something of which I could 
 be proud. No, no, Dr. North ; you must 
 not ask me to promise this." 
 
 He sat gazing into her eyes, for her words 
 had struck a chord in his breast. They 
 seemed to rouse up in him the thoughts and 
 theories which had been set aside during 
 the months of her illness while she had been 
 his only care ; and with an eager burst of 
 fervid passion in his tones, he exclaimed : 
 
 " If I distinguished myself in some way — 
 if I set men talking about my discoveries, 
 and made my name famous, would you listen 
 to me then ? " 
 
 The same mocking light was in her eye, 
 the same half-contemptuous smile played for 
 a moment about the corners of her lips, as 
 she said, in a low voice :
 
 LB. NOBTE PROPOSES. 219 
 
 '■ Wait and see." 
 
 "Wait? I will wait," he cried eagerly; 
 '• aud you shall share my triumph. Leo, 
 you do not know, you cannot tell, what 
 thouo-hts I have — vrhat investio-ations I am 
 making; into a science which is full of 
 wonders waitino- to be discovered. You 
 have roused once more in me the great 
 desire to win fame : to make researches that 
 shall benefit humanity for all time to come. I 
 can, I will, win these secrets from Nature, and 
 we will too-ether oo hand-in-hand, learning 
 more and more. I shall succeed ! " he cried 
 excitedly. " Ah ! you smile. You do give 
 me hope." 
 
 She did not speak, but veiled her eyes, to 
 hide the mocking light within them. 
 
 "My darling — my love ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 She drew back from his embrace. 
 
 "No, no," she said. " We are only 
 friends." 
 
 " Yes, friends," he cried — " friends now." 
 
 " Say no more," she continued. " I am 
 still weak, and this troubles me. Pray go 
 now."
 
 220 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 " Yes, I am going," he said eagerly, *' to 
 f]2;lit a hard fioht. I. used to think of it as for 
 fame alone. Now it is for love — your love — 
 the love of the woman who first taught me 
 that I had a heart." 
 
 Eaising the hand she surrendered, he 
 kissed it tenderly, and was about to speak 
 ag-ain, but he could not trust himself; and 
 giving her a look fall of love, trust, and devo- 
 tion, he hurried back to the study, where Salis 
 sat with Mary, waiting his return. 
 
 "Well?" said Salis, as Mary sat with 
 pinched lips, and eyes wild with emotion. 
 
 '^ Congratulate me, my dear boy ! " cried 
 North excitedly. 
 
 '' She has promised to be your wife ? " 
 
 " No, no ; I am to wait and work. She 
 is quite right. It was assumption on my 
 part." 
 
 "Then she has refused you ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! She is quite right. She bids 
 me do something to make me worthy of her 
 love, and — ah ! Hartley, old fellow, I did not 
 know what life was before. There ! I am the 
 happiest fool on earth."
 
 LB. NORTH PEOPOSES. 221 
 
 He turned to Mary, who was gazing at 
 bim with a look so full of pain that it would 
 have betrayed her secret at another time. 
 But just then the love madness was strong, 
 and its eflect sufficient to blind North, who, 
 in his joy, raised Mary's hand and kissed it, 
 as he had kissed her sister's. 
 
 Mary shrank at the contact of his lips 
 wdth her soft, wdiite hand ; and a look of 
 despair that she could not control shot from 
 her lustrous eyes. 
 
 North did not see it, but Hartley Salis 
 made a mental note thereof as the doctor 
 exclaimed, lauo-hino; : 
 
 '* There, good folks, let me go. Don't 
 laugh at me and be too hard when I am 
 gone." 
 
 " Hard ! " said the curate sadly. 
 
 " Well, I know Fm behaving like a luna- 
 tic. I'm going away to study hard, and 
 work myself back into a state of sanity — if 
 
 In 
 can. 
 
 He nodded and left the house ; and, as 
 
 the door closed, Mary closed her eyes as 
 
 she sank back helplessly in her place.
 
 222 TIIIi: MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 " Asleep, dear ? " said Hartley tenderly, a 
 few minutes later, and he had risen from 
 where he sat, with a dejected look upon his 
 face. 
 
 *^ No, Hartley ; only thinking," she said, 
 smiling sweetly in his face. 
 
 " Thinking ? " 
 
 '^ Of Leo." 
 
 *'And so was I," he said sadly. 
 
 But Leo Salis was not thinking of brother 
 or sister. She was writing rapidly, with a 
 blotting-book held half open, and the book 
 she had been reading held in the same hand, 
 so that she could close the blotter instantly 
 and seem to be reading if any one came. 
 
 Leo's lips formed the words she wrote : — 
 
 " It is ridiculous of you to have such 
 jealous thoughts. He has tended me patiently 
 as any other doctor would. I will tell you 
 more to-morrow night, but to-day I tell 
 you this : I think him very clever as a 
 doctor ; as an ordinary being I think him 
 an idiot. At the old time as nearly as I 
 can. Do be punctual this time, pray." 
 
 It was about five o'clock the next morning
 
 1)E. NORTH FEOPOSES. 223 
 
 that, after sitting up reading hard, and try- 
 ing to recover lost time, till half-past three, 
 North was plunged in a deep sleep, in which 
 he dreamed that Leo was smiling in his eyes, 
 and repeating the words she had uttered in 
 her delirium, when there w\as a heavy 
 drao^orino' at the niojht-bell. 
 
 '' "What is it ? " cried the doctor from his 
 window. 
 
 '• My young master, sir," cried the voice 
 of the butler from the Hall. 
 
 ^' Taken ill?" 
 
 " 111, sir ? Oh, Heaven help us ! it's worse 
 than that ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 TOM CANDLISH PLAYS BADLY. 
 
 Squike Luke Candlish looked flushed 
 and angry, as he stood facing his brother in 
 the billiard-room, over the diniDg-room, at 
 the Hall. Dinner had been ended an hour, 
 and in company with his brother he had 
 partaken of enough wine for three ordinary 
 men, after which they had gone upstairs to 
 smoke and play two or three games. 
 
 Tom Candlish played horribly that night. 
 The strokes he made were vile ; and so 
 transparent were some of his blunders that 
 any one but Squire Luke would have seen 
 and asked what it meant. 
 
 Squire Luke only chuckled and smoked, 
 and spilled the cigar-ash over the green
 
 TOM CANDLISH PLAYS BADLY. 225 
 
 cloth and played ; but played more vilely 
 than his brother, with the result that, in 
 spite of all his efforts, Tom won game after 
 game. 
 
 It w^as very awkward, for Tom had a 
 request to make, and unless he could get his 
 brother in a good temper, the request would 
 certainly be in vain. 
 
 He made misses and his brother scored 
 one each time. Then went straight into the 
 pocket without touching a ball ; and his 
 opponent scored three ; but directly after- 
 wards, when his turn came round, the balls 
 seemed as if they would make cannons and 
 winning and losing hazards, so that his 
 score kept rising, and Squire Luke raved. 
 
 Tom won every game, and his brother 
 grew more silent, till quite in despair at the 
 failure of his plan to put the squire in a 
 good temper, Tom blurted out his business. 
 He wanted a hundred pounds. 
 
 " I should think you do want a hundred 
 pounds ! " said the squire coolly ; " say 
 two." 
 
 " Two I " cried Tom merrily. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 TEE MxiN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 '' Twopence 1 " cried his brother, driving 
 his ball off the table with a tremendous 
 clatter. *'What for T' 
 
 " Meet a couple of bills," said Tom, pick- 
 ing up the ball. " No ! Your play again." 
 
 " No business to accept them." 
 
 '' Couldn't help it, old fellow. Gome, 
 let's have a hundred." 
 
 '^ Not a stiver." 
 
 -Why?" 
 
 '' Because you've had your allowance for 
 the year, and fifty over." 
 
 " Nonsense, old man ; I'm hard pushed, 
 and if I don't meet the bills, they'll be dis- 
 honoured." 
 
 '' Well, what of that ? " said Squire Luke 
 coolly, as he made a stroke. 
 
 " What of it ! eh ? Why, the glorious 
 name of Candlish will be dragged in the 
 
 mire." 
 
 *' Bah ! " ejaculated the squire, playing 
 
 again. 
 
 "Why, Luke, that stroke was not emble- 
 matic, w^as it, of your turning into a screw ? " 
 " None of your hints. I put on no screw,
 
 TO^r CAXDLISH PLAYS BADLY. 227 
 
 and I am no screw. Yon have yonr five 
 liundred a year to spend, and I keep you 
 besides." 
 
 " Oil, yes : and keep me well ; but a man 
 ean't always keep just inside a certain line." 
 
 " You always keep outside a certain line," 
 retorted the squire. "You have your five 
 hundred regularly." 
 
 ''And you have your five thousand 
 regularly," said Tom, who was beginning to 
 flush up. 
 
 '' Well, what of that ? " 
 
 " Why, it isn't fair that you should have 
 all this big place and a large income, and I 
 nearly nothing." 
 
 "That's right," said the squire; "abuse 
 vour father." 
 
 " I don't abuse my father ! " retorted 
 Tom hotly ; '' but I say it was an infernal 
 shame ! " 
 
 " He knew what a blackguard you are, 
 Tommy. Ah ! that's a good stroke : six ! " 
 
 "Blackguard, eh? Come, I like that. 
 Because I am open and above-board, and 
 you are about the most underhanded rufiian 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 that ever lived, I'm a blackguard, and you are 
 only Squire Luke. Why, you sneaking " 
 
 " Don't call names, Tom," said the squire, 
 laughing huskily, with his heavy face bloated 
 and red from the wine be had taken. " Little 
 boy, younger brother, if you are rude I 
 may use the stick in the shape of a billiard 
 cue." 
 
 *' I only wish you would," said Tom, grind- 
 ing his teeth as he played, striking the balls 
 viciously, and scoring now every time. 
 
 '* Oh, that's it, is it ? " cried the squire ; 
 " going to win, are you ? We shall see." 
 
 *' Win ? Curse the game ! I could give 
 you fifty out of a hundred, and beat you 
 easily. Look here, are you going to let me 
 have that money ? " 
 
 *'No, I am not ; mind your play." 
 
 "Then I'll have it somehow." 
 
 '^ Burglary?" 
 
 " No ; ril make it so unpleasant for a 
 certain person about some things I know 
 that he shall be glad to lay down the hundred 
 instead of lending it, as one brother should to 
 another."
 
 TOM CANDLISE PLAYS BADLY. 229 
 
 The squire's face grew dark, and the cue 
 quivered in his grasp, as he gazed full at 
 Tom Candlish, the brothers lookino; siuo-u- 
 larly alike in their anger. But the elder 
 turned it off with a curious, unpleasant 
 lauorh, and leant over the table to make a 
 stroke. 
 
 *' Don't be a fool, Tom," he said, playing. 
 "You always did have too much tongue." 
 
 " Too much or too little, I mean to use it 
 more, instead of submitting to the tyranny 
 of such a mean-spirited hound as you. 
 What the old man could have been think- 
 ing of to leave the estate to such a miserly 
 cur " 
 
 '^ Mean-spirited hound ! miserly cur, eh ! " 
 .said the squire, between his teeth. 
 
 *'Yes; and I repeat it," cried Tom Cand- 
 lish, who was furious with disappointment. 
 He found that humility was useless, and 
 that now they had begun to quarrel, his only 
 chance of getting money was by bullying 
 and threats ; so without heeding the gathering 
 anger in his brother's eyes as he went on 
 playing rapidly in turn and out of turn, he
 
 230 TEE 31 AX WITE A SEADOW. 
 
 kept up his attack. '"'What the governor 
 could have been thinking of, I say " 
 
 " Leave the governor alone, Tom," growled 
 the squire. "He knew that if he left the 
 money to me with the title, the estate would 
 be kept out of the law^yers' hands, and the 
 money would not be found in pretty women's 
 laps." 
 
 " But down your throat, you sot ! " 
 
 The squire looked up at him again, and he 
 was going to make some furious retort, when 
 the old butler's steps were heard ascending 
 the flight of stairs, and he entered the room. 
 
 '' Can I bring anything else, Sir Luke, 
 before I go to bed ? " 
 
 *' No, Smith," said the squire; "what 
 time is it ? " 
 
 " Half-past ten, sir.' 
 
 '' All locked up ? Servants gone to bed ? " 
 
 "Yes, Sir Luke." 
 
 "That'll do, then, without Mr. Tom wants 
 some more hot water." 
 
 "No; I'm in hot water enough," growled 
 Tom, lio^htiufy a cig^ar, and the butler with- 
 drew.
 
 TOM CANJJLISE PLAYS BADLY. 231 
 
 For some few minutes there was no sound 
 but the click of the billiard balls, as the 
 squire, forgetful entirely of the game, kept 
 on kncckino; the red here, the white there, 
 while Tom Candlish paced up and down, cue 
 in hand, emitting regular puiis of smoke, as 
 if he were some ano:rv machine moved by an 
 internal fire. 
 
 Doors were heard to shut here and there, 
 and then all was silent in the old place save 
 the regular pacing about of Tom, the scjuire's 
 hasty tread, and the clicking of the billiard 
 balls. 
 
 "Now, then I" cried Tom, at last; ''are 
 you going to let me have that money ? " 
 
 "No," said the squire, coolly enough. ''I 
 wouldn't let you have it now for your 
 bullying. I'm a hound and a cur, am I, 
 my lad ? " 
 
 '•' Yes, you are a despicable hound and 
 a miserable cur, and if the old man had 
 known "' 
 
 ''Let the old man rest," said the squire, 
 with a lurid look. 
 
 " I say, if the old man had known how
 
 232 TEE MAN WITE A SEAEOW. 
 
 you were goiDg to spend his money, sotting 
 from morning to night " 
 
 ** He'd have left it to you to spend on the 
 loose, eh ? " 
 
 " Loose ? Why, you are ten times as loose 
 as I am ; but you are so proud of your good 
 name that you sneak about in the dark to 
 do your dissipation. I am manly and 
 straio-htforvvard in mine." 
 
 "Yes, you're a beauty," said the squire 
 mockingly. " Which of those girls are you 
 going to marry — Leo Salis or Dally Wat- 
 lock?" 
 
 " You mind your own affairs, and leave 
 me to manage mine ! " said Tom Candlish 
 fiercely. 
 
 ''But I should like to know," said the 
 squire, "because then I could arrange about 
 the paper and furniture for the rooms." 
 
 " Do you want to quarrel, Luke ?" 
 
 "Quarrel?" chuckled the squire; "not L 
 Trying to be brotherly and to make things 
 pleasant. If it is to be Leo, of course we 
 must have grays and sage greens and terra 
 cottas. If it is to be Dally AVatlock, we
 
 TOM CANDLISH PLAYS BADLY. 233 
 
 must go in for red and yellow and purple. 
 How delicrhtful to have the sexton's grand- 
 daughter for a sister! I say, Tom, how 
 happy we shall be ! " 
 
 Tom Candlish turned upon his brother 
 furiously, as if about to strike ; and the 
 squire, though apparently laughing over his 
 banter, and about to play, kept upon his 
 guard. 
 
 But no blow was struck. Tom uttered a 
 low sound, like the muttering growl of an 
 angry dog, and smoked quickly, giving the 
 butt of his cue a thump down upon the 
 floor from time to time as he walked. 
 
 " I shan't mind your marryiug, Tom ; and 
 there's plenty of room for you to bring a 
 wife to. I shan't marry, so your boy will 
 <j:et the title — and the coin." 
 
 o 
 
 " Coin ? " cried Tom savagely ; " there'll 
 be none left. Do you think I don't know 
 how you are spending it ? " 
 
 "Xever mind how I spend it, my lad. I 
 only spend what is my own ; and if I had 
 spent all, I shouldn't come begging to you." 
 
 "Lucky for you," cried Tom Candlish
 
 234 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 tauntingly. '' Look here, Lnke, how many 
 years does it take a man to drink himself to 
 death ? " 
 
 ''Don't know," said the squire, wincing. 
 
 " Well, you're hard at work, and I shall 
 watch the experiment with some curiosity. 
 I've a good chance." 
 
 " Healthier man than you, Tom ; and it'll 
 take me longer to kill myself than it will take 
 you. I shall be a hale man long after you've 
 broken your neck hunting." 
 
 ''Look here ! " cried Tom savagely, "once 
 more : do you want to quarrel ? " 
 
 " Not I," said the squire ; " and I don't 
 want to fight. Cain might kill Abel over 
 again with an unlucky blow." 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, Luke, if I could feel sure 
 that Cain would be hung for it, I shouldn't 
 mind playing Abel." 
 
 '•' Look at that ! " cried the squire, as, after 
 a random shot, the red ball went into one 
 pocket, the white into another. "There's a 
 shot ! " 
 
 "Yes — a fluke," sneered Tom. "Your life 
 has been a series of flukes. It was one that
 
 TOM CANDLISH FLAYS BADLY. 235 
 
 you were born first, and another that you 
 ever lived ; while in earnest, as in play, it's 
 always fluke, fluke, fluke ! " 
 
 " Anchor flukes take fast hold of the 
 ground, Tom,'"' said the squire, with a sneer- 
 m^ lauo[h. 
 
 '* Yes, and of the money, too," cried Tom. 
 ''Come, I'll give you another chance. Will 
 you let me have that cash ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Not to save me from a writ ? " 
 
 '' Who holds the bills ? " 
 
 '' That scoundrel Thompsou. North's 
 cousin." 
 
 "Then he'll worry you well for it," said 
 the squire. " Let him. It'll be a lesson for 
 you, and bring you to your senses. You'll 
 be more careful." 
 
 "Nonsense ! Let me have the money." 
 
 " I might have let you have it, and pre- 
 cious unwillingly, too," said the squire. '' I 
 might, I say, have let you have the money 
 to save you for the last time, but your 
 bullying tone, and the way in w^hich you 
 have spoken to me to-night, have quite
 
 236 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 settled it. You may liave writs and be 
 arrested, and turn bankrupt if you like : it 
 doesn't make any difference to me. Yes, it 
 would ; for perhaps I should get rid of you for 
 a time." 
 
 " You cursed, mean, unbrotherly bound ! " 
 cried Tom furiously ; and, throwing down 
 the cue upon the table just as his brother 
 was about to play, he swung out of the 
 room, descended the stairs, and went up to 
 bis bedroom. 
 
 " Hang him ! " muttered the squire, going 
 to a side table and pouring himself out half 
 a tumbler of strong brandy, whicli he diluted 
 a little, and then drank off half at a draught. 
 " I wish to goodness he'd go altogether. I 
 won't pay his debts any more. That's not a 
 bad stroke. How a drop of brandy does 
 steady a man's hand ! Let him swear and 
 growl. Five hundred's enoup^h for him for 
 a year, and the old man was quite right." 
 
 He wxnt on playing for another half-hour, 
 practising strokes with very little success, 
 til], glancing at his watch, he found it was 
 close upon midnight, and placing his cue in
 
 TOM CAXDLISH PLAYS BADLY. 237 
 
 the rack, he poured himself out some more 
 brandy, drank it, turned down the lamp, and 
 was movinp^ towards the baize swinor-door, 
 when it opened, and Tom Candlish stood in 
 the opening. 
 
 '^ Hallo !" said the squire; " thought you'd 
 gone to bed." 
 
 ** What's the good of my going to bed with 
 that monev trouble to think about." 
 
 *"Have some brandy? Make you forget 
 it. I've left some on the table." 
 
 "Xo fooling, Luke. 1 was out of temper. 
 I've been worried, and I said things I didn't 
 mean." 
 
 '•' Always do. Here, let me come by. I 
 want to go to bed." 
 
 ''All right, you shall directly, old fellow; 
 but you'll let me have that money ? " 
 
 **Not a sou." 
 
 " I want it horribly ; and it will save me 
 no end of worry. You'll let me have it ? " 
 
 "Not a sou, I tell you." 
 
 " Come, Luke, old chap, don't be hard 
 upon me. I've been waiting patiently till I 
 got cool, and you had finished playing, before
 
 238 THE 21AN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 I came and spoke to you again. Now, then, 
 it's only a hnndred." 
 
 ''And it'll be a hundred next week, and 
 a hundred next month. I won't lend you a 
 penny," 
 
 "Then, give it me. I've a right to some 
 of the old man's coin." 
 
 ''Not a sou, I tell you, and get out of my 
 way. I want to go to bed." 
 
 " You'll help me, Luke ? " 
 
 "No! Stand aside!" 
 
 " Come, don't be hard. I'm your brother." 
 
 "Worse luck!" said the squire, whose 
 face was flushed by the brandy he had 
 taken. 
 
 "Never mind that. Let me have the 
 hundred." 
 
 " I tell you again, not a sou. Curse you ! 
 Will you let me come by ? " cried the squire 
 savagely ; for the spirit had taken an awkward 
 turn, and his face grew purple. 
 
 "Once more; will you let me have the 
 money ? " 
 
 " No I " roared the squire. " Get out of 
 the way — dog ! "
 
 TOM CAXDLISH PLAYS BALLY. -239 
 
 " Dog, yourself ! Curse you for a mean 
 hound !" cried Tom Candlish, with a savage 
 look. " You don't go by here till you've 
 given me a cheque." 
 
 The squire's temper was fully roused now. 
 He had restrained it before ; though, several 
 times when he had uttered a low laugh and 
 kept on handling his cue, his anger had been 
 seething, and ready to brim over. 
 
 Now, at his brother's threat, that he 
 should not pass until he had signed a 
 cheque, he seized Tom by the shoulder as 
 he blocked the way, and flung him aside. 
 
 Luke Candlish cleared the passage for his 
 descent ; but roused the evil in his brother, 
 so that Tom closed with him in a fierce 
 grip. 
 
 The struggle was almost momentary. 
 There was a wrestling here and there, and 
 then Luke Candlish put forth his whole 
 strength as he practised a common Cornish 
 trick, and Tom was thrown heavily upon 
 the landino;. 
 
 " There ! " cried the squire ; ''lie there, you 
 idiot ! You'll get no cheque from me."
 
 240 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 The squire had to pass over his brother's 
 body to reach the stairs, and he was in the 
 act of rapidly crossing him, when, with a 
 desperate effort, Tom made a savage snatch 
 at his leg. 
 
 The result was what mi^rht have been ex- 
 pected : the sudden check caused the squire 
 to lose his balance, and he literally pitched 
 head foremost down the stairs, to fall with 
 a heavy crash at the bottom. 
 
 Tom Candlish rose to his hands and 
 knees, and gazed at where his brother lay, 
 just beneath the lamp in the lobby, head 
 downwards, and in a curiously - aw^kward 
 position for a living man.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A TEEEIBLE SILENCE. 
 
 '' Serve him right," muttered Tom. Then 
 rising and pushing the door, which had 
 swung to, he entered the dark billiard-room, 
 where he felt his way to the spirit stand, 
 and took a hearty draught. " Curse him ! 
 he's as strong as a horse. I wish he had 
 broken his neck." 
 
 The brandy gave him nerve, and he re- 
 turned through the baize door into the light. 
 
 "Must lend him a hand, I suppose," he 
 muttered, as he descended the stairs to where 
 the squire lay in a heap, his head upon 
 the mat, one leg doubled beneath him, and 
 the other through the balustrade, which held 
 it fast, 
 
 vol. I. R
 
 242 THE 31 AN WnH A SHADOW. 
 
 Tom Candlish stood peering down at him 
 for a few moments, and then, as his brother 
 did not move, he stooped towards him. 
 
 " Here," he said roughly, as he took hold 
 of his wrist ; *' don't lie like that ; you'll have 
 a blood-vessel burst." 
 
 There was no reply ; and, as the wrist 
 was loosed, the arm fell in an absolutely 
 nerveless way. 
 
 '' Here, Luke ! " he cried ; *' get up. Don't 
 fooL Get up, man ! " 
 
 Still no reply, and, beginning to be 
 startled, Tom Candlish went down upon one 
 knee and tried to move his brother's head 
 into a more comfortable position. 
 
 As he did so, the light fell athwart so 
 ghastly and strange a countenance, from 
 whose lips the blood was slowly trickling, 
 that he let the head glide from his hands, 
 for it to sink suddenly with a dull thud 
 upon the stairs. 
 
 " Good God ! " ejaculated the young man, 
 in a low, excited voice. '' Here, Luke I 
 Luke, old man : hold up ! " 
 
 There was no movement— not even a sigh ;
 
 >1-1 
 
 A TEBBIBLE SILENCE. 24: 
 
 and Tom CaiKllish ran to alarm the liouse ; 
 but, as he reached the swino'-door at the 
 end of the passage, and stood gazing into 
 the hall, he stopped and ran back to lay his 
 hand upon his brother's heart ; then caught 
 his wrist, and afterwards thrust a hand right 
 into his breast, but only to withdraw it quite 
 aghast. 
 
 ''Here! a doctor!" he gasped, his voice 
 being like a hoarse whisper. " Smith ! Some- 
 body ! Here ! " 
 
 He rose and hurried to the door leadino- 
 into the entrance hall once more, but stopped 
 again as he reached it, and stood gazing 
 back at the (ilistorted fig^ure at the foot of 
 the stairs. 
 
 Then he turned and looked up the dimly- 
 lit staircase, but all was perfectly still. Ko 
 one appeared to have heard the altercation or 
 the fall. All seemed to be sleeping ; and, 
 panting heavily, as wild thoughts full of 
 v;onder and dread flooded his brain, Tom 
 Candlish closed the door softly, ran back 
 along the passage, ascended the stairs, and 
 gained the billiard-room, where he groped his 
 
 R 2
 
 2U THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 way once more to the spirit stand, removed 
 the stopper, and drank heavily from the 
 brandy decanter. 
 
 "Hah !" he ejaculated, as he took a long 
 breath, and turned to see that the oval 
 pane in the baize door seemed to have 
 assumed the aspect of a huge, dull eye glar- 
 ing at him. 
 
 "Am I 2[oino^ mad?" he muttered, as he 
 staggered to the door. " I must call help ; 
 perhaps — perhaps — he is seriously hurt." 
 
 He stole softly down the stairs, and 
 paused by the prostrate figure, still lying 
 perfectly motionless, and in its hideously- 
 distorted position. 
 
 " I must call help — call help ! " whispered 
 the young man, whose face was now ghastly ; 
 but though there were bells that might have 
 been rung and people were within call, he 
 only crept along the passage, without at- 
 tempting to touch the fallen man, pushed 
 the spring-door gently, so that it should 
 make no noise, closed it again, stood listen- 
 in e, and then, in the midst of the dead 
 silence, stole on tip-toe up the grand stair-
 
 A TERUIBLE SILEXCE. 245 
 
 case to liis bedroom, where he once more 
 stopped to listen, and then crept softly in 
 and closed the door. 
 
 The silence in the old Hall was as that of 
 death for a few moments, before it was 
 broken by a faint click, as of the bolt of a 
 lock just shot. 
 
 Once more silence, and then on the dim 
 staircase there was a musical j)urring noise, 
 followed by the pleasant chimes of a clock, 
 which rang out the half-hour after mid- 
 niorht. 
 
 Then once again the stillness as of death.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SMITH FINDS SOMETHING WEONG. 
 
 ''You heard nothing-?" said the doctor. 
 
 " Nothing at all. I went to bed at the 
 nsual time, sir," said the butler — " half-past 
 ten — yes, sir, I've the chaise waiting ; won't 
 you come in that, and I can tell you as we 
 drive over ? " 
 
 " Yes ; all right," said the doctor, and five 
 minutes later they were rattling along the 
 road towards the Hall. 
 
 *' Now, go on," said North. 
 
 *' Yes, sir ; I went to bed as usual, and 
 slept very soundly till about an hour ago, 
 and then I suddenly woke. I don't know 
 what made me wake; but I did, and some- 
 how beg;an thinkinsf, as I've often thoug^ht
 
 SMITH FINDS SOMETHING WRONG. 247 
 
 before, about the plate in the pantry, and 
 whether it was safe." 
 
 " Don't you sleep in the pantry ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; it's so clamp. So I lay telling 
 myself it was all nonsense and fancy ; hut 
 the more I thouo'ht so, the more uncomfort- 
 able I grew, till I could stand it no longer, 
 and I got up, slipped on my trousers and 
 great-coat, and went to the top of the stairs, 
 where I felt quite a chill, as I knew some- 
 thing was not as it should be, for the lamp 
 was not turned out on the hall table." 
 
 " What lamp ? " 
 
 " The hall lamp that Sir Luke always puts 
 out himself when he goes up to bed." 
 
 "Where do you say you left him last 
 niaht ? " 
 
 '^In the billiard-room, sir, playing with 
 Mr. Tom, sir." 
 
 " Yes ; go on." 
 
 "So I w^ent down, sir ; and there saw 
 through the baize door that the lamp was 
 burning at the end of the passage at the 
 foot of the billiard-room stairs." 
 
 "Yes."
 
 248 TEE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 "And as soon as I got through the baize 
 door, there, under the lamp, lay my poor 
 master, all like of a heap." 
 
 '' What did you do ? " 
 
 " Kan to him, and tried to put him in a 
 more comfortable position, sir ; but " 
 
 *' Yes ; I understand." 
 
 *'Then I rushed up and called Mr. Tom, 
 sir ; and we went to the squire together, 
 and rano- the bells and alarmed the house. 
 Then, as soon as the boy had put the horse 
 in the chaise, sir, I drove over to fetch 
 you." 
 
 "But did you do nothing to try and 
 revive him ? " 
 
 **0h! yes, sir; but " 
 
 "I understand," said the doctor. "And 
 Mr. Tom?" 
 
 "He couldn't believe it, sir. He said he 
 played billiards with the squire for some time, 
 and then grew tired and went to bed, leaving 
 him knocking the balls about, and it's all 
 very plain, sir. I tell you of course, though 
 1 wouldn't say so to another soul, poor Sir 
 Luke used to take a great deal too much. 1
 
 SMITE FINDS SOMETBIXG WRONG. 249 
 
 filled the spirit stand only tliis morning, and 
 the brandy decanter was quite empty. He 
 had a deal too, at dinner, before." 
 
 *•' And you think he pitched downstairs, 
 Smith ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; that is my belief," said the 
 butler; "and Mr. Tom seemed to think so 
 too." 
 
 They reached the Hall to find every one 
 in a state of the most intense excitement, 
 but an ominous silence reio-nino^ throuo'h the 
 place. 
 
 '* Thank goodness youVe come at last," 
 cried a familiar voice, and Tom hurried to 
 meet North. ''Pray be quick ; he is insensible 
 still." 
 
 The doctor looked at the young man 
 curiously. 
 
 " "Where is he ? " 
 
 " We carried him into the dinino'-room, 
 and laid him on a sofa ; but he has not 
 stirred since. I'm afraid something is 
 broken." 
 
 As he spoke he led North into the dining- 
 room, where the candles were burning, the
 
 250 TEE MAN WITE A SEADOW. 
 
 shutters were closed, and curtains drawn ; 
 and there, upon a couch in the middle of 
 the room, lay Sir Luke Candlish, as his 
 brother had said, without having moved since 
 he had been borne carefully in. 
 
 The doctor's examination was short, and 
 Tom Candlish stood looking on, apparently 
 too much overcome to speak. 
 
 "Well," he said at last, " is he very bad ? 
 Is anything broken ? " 
 
 The doctor raised his eyebrows, and could 
 have replied " his neck," but he said simply : 
 " Bad, sir ? Can you not see that he is 
 dead ? " 
 
 " Dead ? " ejaculated Tom ; and his jaw 
 dropjDed, while his face assumed a look of 
 intense horror. 
 
 " Yes, sir. The butler's theory seems to be 
 quite correct. Sir Luke must have pitched 
 headlong from the top of the stairs to the 
 bottom." 
 
 " And there is no hope ? " 
 
 The doctor shook his head, and laid his 
 hand upon the young man's arm, signing to 
 him to quit the room.
 
 SMITH FiyDS SOMETHING WRONG. 251 
 
 Tom followed mechanically. 
 
 '' So horrible ! " he said, as soon as they 
 \Yere in the drawing-room. *' We were play- 
 ing billiards together till late last night, 
 while now Yes, what is it ? " 
 
 "I beg pardon. Sir Thomas,^' said the old 
 butler softly, '' the housekeeper said w^ould 
 you and Dr. North like a cup of tea ? " 
 
 " Sir Thomas ! " The title made Tom 
 Candlish thrill as he stood gazing at the 
 speaker. So soon ! Le Roi est mort ! Vive 
 le Roi! 
 
 He was Sir Thomas Candlish. The estate 
 was his and the rent-roll of at least five 
 thousand a year. Last nio^ht he w^as enras^ed 
 at the possibility of trouble arising from 
 Thompson. Now he was a free man : he 
 was rich. 
 
 And his brother ? 
 
 It was his secret. And why should he 
 trouble about the sudden death ? It was 
 an accident, and his own counsel could easily 
 be kept. There was none to reveal the 
 truth. The dead could never speak. 
 
 As he mused like this, and the butler
 
 252 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 brought in tlie tea, Dr. North was lost 
 in a fit of musing, for, like a flash, the 
 scientific fancy upon which he had so long 
 pondered came to him, so that for the mo- 
 ment he stood breathless and gazing wildly 
 at the door which seemed to open before 
 him. 
 
 The idea was bewildering. Leo had bidden 
 her suitor distinguish himself as the price 
 at which her love was to be won ; and the 
 more he thought, the more the idea shone 
 out, dazzling him by its inteuse light — shining 
 into the dark places of his soul. 
 
 What was his theory ? That if a hale, 
 hearty man were suddenly cut off by some 
 accident, and apparently dead, could he 
 arrest decay. Nature herself would repair 
 the injury done, even as a fractured bone 
 rapidly knits together and becomes stronger 
 than before. 
 
 Here, then, was a hale, hearty man sud- 
 denly cut down ; he was the medical man 
 in attendance, and the opportunity served 
 for restoring this man to life. Why should 
 he not make his first essay now ?
 
 SMITH FINDS SOMETHIXQ WRONG. 253 
 
 The idea sjrew more terrible in its in- 
 tensity hour by hour. It was his chance if 
 he would grasp it. Impious ? Xo, not more 
 so than performing an operation or trying to 
 save a sufferer from death. But he was 
 dead. 
 
 " What we call dead," muttered North ; 
 " but why not suspended animation ? For 
 her sake, for my own fame, to achieve a 
 success such as the world has not heard of 
 before, I must — I will make the essay." 
 
 '^But how?" 
 
 " And suppose I make him live once more 
 — what then ? " 
 
 The idea blinded him, and he covered his 
 eyes to think.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " AH ! " 
 
 ''How horrible!" the curate said, when he 
 heard the news from North, who came in at 
 breakfast time. 
 
 As he spoke these words, Leo entered the 
 room, and stopped short, gazing from one to 
 the other. 
 
 She had come down looking happy and 
 contented, with a satisfied smile upon her 
 curved lips, heightened by a rather mocking 
 light which danced in her eyes, as they 
 encountered those of the doctor. There 
 was a feeling of triumph, the satisfaction of 
 a vain, weak woman at the sight of the slave 
 ready to cast himself at her feet, and her man- 
 ner was coquettish as she held out her hand. 
 
 But her brother's ejaculation, the stern 
 look on the doctor's face, chilled her, and
 
 "AH!'' 255 
 
 slie stopped short, looking from one to the 
 other, her lips parting as if for the utterance 
 of \Yords \Yhich would not come. 
 
 '* What is it ? " she said at last, wildly. 
 'MVhat is horrible?" 
 
 " Hush, Leo ! '' said the curate, taking her 
 hand ; " don't be alarmed." 
 
 "But you said " 
 
 " Yes : North has brouo-ht in terrible news 
 from the Hal]."' 
 
 Leo's face turned ghastly, and she clung 
 to her brother, while North hurriedly placed 
 a chair, into which she sank, but only to sit 
 up rigidly, as she stared with widely opened 
 eyes at the doctor. 
 
 '•'Be calm," he said tenderly. ''You are 
 still weak." 
 
 '• What is it ? " she said, in a voice that did 
 not sound like her own. 
 
 "It would be better that you should not 
 know," said North. " There has been a sad 
 accident at the Hall." 
 
 *'I must know now," panted Leo, as she 
 opened and closed her hands in her excitement. 
 
 " It would be better to speak," said the
 
 256 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW, 
 
 curate. '' My sisters have been schooled to 
 trouble, North. There has been a terribly 
 sudden calamity at the Hall, Leo, dear. 
 North was called up in the night, and " 
 
 '* Is he dead ? " she whispered hoarsely ; 
 and then reading her answer in the eyes 
 of both, she uttered a long, low, " Ah ! " and 
 sat with her hand tightening upon her 
 brother's, while she closed her eyes, and an 
 agonising spasm seemed to contract her 
 beautiful face. 
 
 " A fit of giddiness seems to have seized 
 Sir Luke, and he fell headlong from the top 
 of the stairs to the bottom." 
 
 " Ah I '^ 
 
 Once more that strange expiration of the 
 breath, which sounded to the listeners precisely 
 the same, for their senses w^ere not attuned 
 with sufficient keenness to detect the difference. 
 
 " I am sorry to have given you this terrible 
 shock, Leo," said North tenderly; '* but I 
 felt bound to come and let Salis know." 
 
 She did not reply directly, but sat there 
 spasmodically clinging to her brother's hand 
 Avith fingers that were damp and cold.
 
 ''AH/" 257 
 
 " I am better now/' she said at last, in 
 a, low whisper. " It is very terrible. Does 
 Mary know ? " 
 
 " Not yet," said Salis. " I am going to 
 fetch her down. Has the faintness passed 
 away ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes ! " she said hastily. " It was 
 the suddenness of the news. Try not to 
 startle Mary, Hartley ; but she is not such 
 a coward as I am." 
 
 " You have been so ill," said North 
 tenderly. " Your nerves are unstrung. 
 Besides, it is a great shock to hear of so 
 awfully sudden a death." 
 
 " Go and tell Mary," said Leo, rising. " I 
 am quite well now. Speak gently." 
 
 "Yes," said the curate; and he left the 
 room. 
 
 *' Tell me," said Leo, as soon as the door 
 closed. " How was it ? Was there any 
 quarrel ? It was an accident ? " 
 
 She spoke in a hurriedly excited manner, 
 and there was a wildly anxious look in her 
 eyes. 
 
 "You are excited," said North, takiog 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 her hand, half professionally, half with the 
 anxious touch of a lover ; but she snatched 
 it away with an angry flash from her eyes. 
 
 She saw his pained look, and held out her 
 hand the next moment. 
 
 " If the pulse beats quickly," she said, 
 smiling, "it is no wonder." 
 
 "No, no, of course not," he cried, taking 
 her hand, and holding it in his. 
 
 " Now, tell me." 
 
 " Oh, it was an accident," he said, " un- 
 doubtedly. I'm afraid there was a reason for it." 
 
 Leo was silent, looking at North search- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I understand now," she said 
 quickly. " He drank very much, did he not ?" 
 
 "I'm afraid so," replied North, feeling 
 half troubled at the intimate knowledge 
 displayed by the woman he loved. 
 
 "It is very horrible," said Leo, closing her 
 eyes. "Hush! they are coming down. Say 
 as little as you can. Mary is very weak." 
 
 For the curate's heavy step was heard 
 upon the stairs, and directly after, as North 
 hastened to open the door, Salis entered.
 
 "AHf' 259 
 
 carrying Mary in his arms, she looking white 
 and anxious, and gazing quickly from her 
 sister to North and back. 
 
 There was an interchanore of orlances all 
 round, and then, as if by common consent, 
 the subject of the past night was avoided 
 for a time, and North turned to s_o. 
 
 " But you will stay breakfast?" said Mary. 
 " You look tired and worn out." 
 
 She coloured slightly, for the words, full 
 of anxiety for North's welfare, had escaped 
 her inadvertently ; and the colour deepened 
 as, in his pleasantly frank way, he smiled in 
 her face. 
 
 " It is very good of you," he said. " You 
 are always so thoughtful. Tf Leo will only 
 endorse the invitation, I shall be very glad 
 to stay." 
 
 " I'm sure we shall be very pleased," said 
 Leo calmly ; and he crossed to her side, bent 
 down, and said, in low tone : 
 
 " I like that." 
 
 " You like what ? " she said coolly enough. 
 
 "The brave way in which you have mas- 
 tered your weakness."
 
 260 THE MAN WITH A SHADOJV. 
 
 She smiled and looked furtively at her 
 sister, who was less successful in controlling 
 her feelings. 
 
 The breakfast passed over without further 
 allusion to the catastrophe at the Hall till 
 towards the end, when Salis said suddenly : 
 
 " I have a very unpleasant duty to per- 
 form." 
 
 Mary looked up anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, dear ; I must go over and see 
 Thomas Candlish." 
 
 Leo bent over her cup. 
 
 " It is a duty that I must fulfil, North." 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor gravely ; " espe- 
 cially at a time like this." 
 
 " How horrible ! " 
 
 And when the doctor left soon after, and 
 he shook hands with his friend again, the 
 latter once more exclaimed : 
 
 " How horrible ! " 
 
 But it w«s in allusion to the sudden ter- 
 mination of the career of a man who drank 
 heavily, and there wrs no arriere j^ensee as 
 to the possibility of a quarrel between the 
 two young men.
 
 CHAPTER XXYIL 
 
 THE doctor's opportunity. 
 
 About midday, on his return from visiting his 
 patients, North looked rather black. 
 
 Perhaps it was the reflection from the 
 sleek, superfine garments of his cousin, for 
 that gentleman was walking slowly up and 
 down on the lawn in front of the old Manor 
 House, and in no way adding to the attrac- 
 tions of the quaintly-cut, well-kept place. 
 
 " You here, Thompson ! " 
 
 " Yes, my dear Horace ; I had to come 
 down on business to-day, and I thought you 
 would give me a bit of lunch before I went 
 
 on." 
 
 " To see Mrs. Berens ? " 
 
 " Well — er — perhaps I may give her a
 
 262 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 call ; but my business was with — dear me, 
 how strange that you should take any in- 
 terest in social matters that have nothing 
 to do with the body ! " 
 
 "Am I such a very eccentric man, then, 
 that I should study my profession hard ? " 
 
 "Not at all, my dear fellow — not at all. 
 I study mifie hard, my dear Horace. Left 
 almost penniless, it was a necessity, and I 
 have, I am proud to say, been very success- 
 ful, and am practically independent. But 
 my visit here to-day was not to see the 
 handsome widow — there, don't blush, old 
 fellow." 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Thompson," said the 
 doctor testily. " Now, then, what were you 
 going to say ? " 
 
 "I was going to tell you that my visit 
 would be to the Hall." 
 
 "To the Hall?" cried North excitedly. 
 
 " Yes. Here, what's the matter ? " said 
 Cousin Thompson excitedly. " He hasn't 
 given me the slip ? " 
 
 " If you mean Sir Luke Candlish " 
 
 " No," said Thompson harshly ; " I don't
 
 TBE DOCTOR'S OPPORTUNITY. 263 
 
 mean Luke Candlisli. Here, why don't you 
 speak, man ? Has Tom Candlish gone ? " 
 
 '' No ; he is at the Hall ; but " 
 
 *' That's all right, then," said Cousin 
 Thompson, drawing a breath of relief. '* Oh, 
 I see, you've been over." 
 
 " Yes, I have been over." 
 
 " And he is shamming illness again because 
 he expected me to-day. But it won't do, 
 Horace — it won't do. Come, now, he's quite 
 well, isn't he ? Don't turn against your own 
 cousin, and back him up." 
 
 ''Tom Candlish is as well as a man can 
 be under such horrible circumstances. His 
 brother is dead." 
 
 " Phew ! " whistled the lawyer — a long- 
 drawn, low, deep whistle. " Then he is now 
 Sir Thomas Candlish." 
 
 " Yes, and if you have lent him money at 
 usury it will be all right." 
 
 "At usury!" snarled the lawyer ; "don't 
 you be so fond of using that word. I must 
 make money, and lending at interest is fair 
 €nough." 
 
 ^' Where are you going ? "
 
 264 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 *' Going down to tlie Hall at once." 
 
 *' You said you bad come to lunch." 
 
 " Hang your lunch ! I must see Tom 
 Oandlish." 
 
 " Impossible. It would not be decent to 
 go on business now." 
 
 " Decent or indecent, I must see him at 
 once." 
 
 " My cousin ; and how cordially I do dis- 
 like him ! " muttered the doctor, as he 
 watched the sleek, black back of his visitor 
 as he went down towards the gate. '* To go 
 at a time like this ! Well, thank goodness, 
 I am not a money-grubber." 
 
 He sat down in his study, and took a 
 manuscript book from his drawer. Over this 
 book he began to pore, but the words danced 
 before his eyes, and he could think of no- 
 thing but Luke Candlish, the hale, strong 
 man, suddenly cut off by accident, and of 
 Leo's words bidding him distinguish himself. 
 
 " No rest last night," he said, throwing 
 the book back into the drawer ; "I can't 
 r'read, or think, or do anything." 
 
 ** Are you ready for your lunch, sir ?" said
 
 THE DOCTOR'S OPPORTUNITY. 265 
 
 Mrs. Milt. "Mr. Thompson will join you, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 " No ; but I dare say he will come to 
 dinner." 
 
 " Ho ! Lunch is quite ready, sir," said 
 the old lady, in an ill-used tone, as the 
 doctor moved towards the door. 
 
 " Never mind ; I can't eat to-day. Going 
 out," said North hastily ; and he hurriedly 
 left the house, and passed down the village, 
 where every one was discussing the accident 
 at the Hall, and longed to question him, if 
 such a thing could have been ventured upon. 
 
 He had not seen Moredock for two or 
 three days, and almost immediately, to 
 avoid the torture of his thoughts, and what 
 was rapidly approaching the stage of a great 
 temptation, he walked to the old sexton's 
 cottage. 
 
 The door was ajar, and he tapped, but 
 there was no reply, and the only sound 
 within was the regular beat of the great 
 clock as the heavy pendulum swung to 
 and fro. 
 
 *' Asleep, perhaps," he said to himself, and 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 266 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 pushing the door, he walked in ; but the 
 big arm-chair was vacant, and after a glance 
 round, in which his eyes rested for a moment 
 upon the old carved oak coffer, the doctor 
 went slowly out, and, without considering 
 which way he should go, walked straight on 
 towards the church. 
 
 A sound, as of something falling, made 
 him raise his eyes, and he saw that the 
 chancel door was open. 
 
 " What's Salis doing there ? " he said to 
 himself; and, entering the gate, he walked 
 up the steps to the open doorway. 
 
 " You here, Salis ?" he said. 
 
 " Nay, sir," came back, in a harsh, familiar 
 tone ; " parson's been and gone. Things is 
 looking up again, doctor." 
 
 " Looking up ? " 
 
 " Ay. Been trebble quiet lately : only a 
 bit of a child as hasn't been chrissen' this 
 month past. Horrible healthy place, Dook's 
 Hampton." 
 
 '^ What are you doing here ? " 
 
 " Doing ? Here ? Why, haven't you heard 
 as the young squire — why, of course you
 
 THE DOCTOR'S OPPORTUNITY. 267 
 
 have ; you were called up this morning. 
 Well, he's got to be buried, hasn't he ? " 
 
 " Buried ? Yes, of course," said the doctor 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Yes; he's got to be buried," said More- 
 dock. " Some says it arn't decent and like 
 Christians, as ought to be buried tight in the 
 brown earth. But they don't know, doctor. 
 They can't tell what a lot o' water there is 
 in the ground o' winters. I know, and I 
 know what 'matics is. Nobody knows how 
 damp that there churchyard is better than 
 I do, doctor." 
 
 North stood looking at the sexton, but 
 his thoughts were far away. 
 
 " Ay, Squire Luke'll be buried in the 
 morslem — he'Jl lie with his fathers, as 
 Scripter says ; and when I die, which won't 
 be this twenty year, that's how I'd like to 
 lie with mv fathers. Stretched out nice and 
 w^arm in his lead coffin, that's how he's 
 going to be, and put on a nice dry shelf. 
 Ay, it's a nasty damp old churchyard, 
 doctor, and well they folk in Church Eow 
 know it. He, he, he ! their wells is alius
 
 268 THE MAN WITH A SHADOW. 
 
 full o' nice clean water, but I alius goes to 
 the fur pump." 
 
 North did not seem to hear a word, but 
 stood holding on by the rail of the Candlish 
 tomb, thinking. His head swam with the 
 dazzling lis^ht that blazed into his under- 
 standing. He was confused, and full of 
 wonder, hesitation, and doubt. 
 
 Luke Candlish — dead — the mausoleum — 
 the hale, hearty young man— struck down. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " he ejaculated ; " has 
 my opportunity come — at last ? " 
 
 END or VOL. I. 
 
 CHAELBS DICKENS AND EVANS, CBYSTAL PALACE PKESS.
 
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