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VOL. 271 May 276 For Love and Life 277 Last of the Mortimers 280 Squire Ardc?t 285 Ovibra 296 Madonna Mary VOL. 317 l£arry Muir 323 Heart and Cross Magdalen Hcfhtcrn The House on the Moor 2,'}^() Lilliesleaf 77 Lucy Crofton 333 334 3 1 6 The Days of My Life AUTHOR OF ''WOMAN'S VEVOTLONJ' 206 Woina7i^s Devotion 295 Ladies of Lovel Leigh 297 Queen of the County 302 Three Wives 303 Book of Ha'oines 314 Lords and Ladies AUTHOR OF ''URSULA'S LOVE STORY:' 279 Beautiful Edith \ 311 Sim and Shade 312 Ursula! s Love Story AUTHOR OF "CASTER 275 Colonel Dacre 278 My Soti's Wife 282 Bruna's Revenge 287 Pearl 291 Entanglements 293 CV^j-/^ 301 il/r. ^^/^ ^'F JZ/^-^* AMELLA B, EDWARDS. 298 Miss Cai'ew I 272 Ln the Days of My Youth 304 Dehenham's Vow ^^^.^ \ 307 Monsieur Maurice 94 Married Beneath Him 13S Clyffards of Clyffe 151 Fajiiily Scapegrace 152 iI/"/r/^ ^<^(^ping. Thomas Carter, the first footman, had been born and bred up in the village of Bampton, until fourteen years of age, when he was taken by a friend of Mr. Beauchamp's as the junior domestic in his establishment, from which he rose with his years and inches, until having quarrelled with the butler, he obtained the situation he now held and had occupied for two years in Lord Mervyn's household ; retaining still a strong attachment to his native village, and to the young squire, who had shown him great kindness when a boy. He was also con- nected (though unknown to Lord Mervyn) with old Farmer Rosier, a late tenant on the Marston estates, whose crops having been destroyed, year after year, by the hares and rabbits, without any redress or allowance from his landlord, was at last completely ruined, and all his goods and chattels being distrained upon for rent, which it was impossible for him to pay, he would have been mercilessly turned upon the parish, but for his son, Mark Rosier, who rented a cottage on Mr. Styles's farm, with whom he found constant employment. Mark was a tall, stout, athletic young man of twenty-two, active as a tiger and bold as a lion — yet, withal, of. a kind dis- position ; but his father's injuries, and the injustice he had ex perienced from Lord IMervyn, rankled in his breast, and he determined to take his revenge on the game, which had been the cause of his father's ruin. In fact, Mark Bosier had now become, from his courage and knowledge of wood-craft, the leader of a daring gang of poachers, who preyed almost exclu- sively on Lord Mervyn's preserves, for he was universally dis- liked by all classes (the poor especially) for his haughty, over- bearing character. Mark's gang consisted of six young fellows, besides himself, VERNON FINDS ANOTHER HEIRESS. 75 who were bound together by an oath, never, in any emergency, to split upon each other, and one of their rules was never to sit drinking in any public-house. The booty was fairly divided amongst .them, being sent up to London by a night coacli, the guard of which was well paid for his trouble. Instead of com- mon powder and shot, air-guns, with a single ball, were their only weapons, by which the pheasants were noiselessly knocked off their perches ; the most windy and boisterous nights being always selected for their depredations. From this digression we must return to Marston Castle, where Lord Mervjai, Yernon, and Harper, having completed their plot for the destruction of Miss Douglas's happiness for life, by uniting her to Lord Vancourt, an adjournment was made to the drawing-room, where sat Lady Mervyn, in regal state, with her only daughter, a timid, child-like girl of about sixteen, who scarcely dared to open her lips in her mother's presence. As Yernon gazed on her pale, interesting features and downcast eyes, a sudden thought passed through his mind, and he sat down by her side, with the hope of drawing her into conversation. But the stolen glance towards her father and mother, with her monosyllabic replies to his questions, re- vealed to him the tyranny under which she suffered. Still she appeared pleased with his attentions, and ventured on a quiet smile at some of his witty remarks. " Do you sing. Miss Mervyn ? " he asked. "No," was the reply. "Mamma says my voice is not sufficiently cultivated to sing in company." "Do you play, then?" "Yes, when mamma desires me." " Does Lady Mervyn allow you ever to walk by yourself, without one of those tall footmen behind you 1 " " Only in the morning, before breakfast." Yernon was proceeding to other questions, when Lady Mervyn called him away. But knowing that r^IIss Mervyn had been left by her grandmother thirty thousand pounds, which would be her own, when she should marry, or become of age, without any restriction, he had mentally resolved on ap- propriating the young lady and her money to himself, as every prospect of obtaining the heiress was at an end. How he suc- ceeded will hereafter be shown ; and we now take our leave of the inmates of Marston C^astle for the night. 76 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. CHAPTER VIII. On the following morning a dispatch, was addressed to Lord Yancourt, at his father's seat in Bedfordshire, with a pressing invitation from Lord Mervyn ; and in the postscript, a hint about the heiress with ten thousand a year; to which an answer was quickly returned by Lord Yancourt, naming Mon- day week for his visit to Marston Castle. The intelligence of the new visitor's expected arrival, on the day appointed, soon spread through the household ; and Thomas Carter, the footman, having obtained leave of absence for an hour or two, one afternoon, sent a message, by a trusty friend, to Mark Hosier, to meet him in a by-road near the village. Mark was true to his appointment, and shaking hands with Thomas, inquired why he wished so particularly to see him. " You shall soon hear what I want you for, Mark, but let us go across the field to that cow-house yonder. We may be seen here together by some of my lord's men ; and you are no favourite, you know." " There's no love lost between us," said Mark. Having looked well all round the cow-house, Thomas began — " There's a plot hatched up at the Castle, between my lord and Yernon, to bring down a young scamp, called Lord Yan- court, to cut out the young squire with Miss Douglas ; for people do say that the young lady is very partial to Mr. William. So, my lord and Yernon is desperately afraid she'll marry him, and her money help to keep on the hounds, as the old squire is hard up." " 'Tis a lie, Tom ! The ould squire ain't hard up, but as sound in the pocket as ever that sallow-faced lord is." " Well, Mark, that's what Yernon said." " He's a liar, then — but now, let us hear what I can do in this business ; for sooner than any one of that old rascal's friends should marry that young lady, I'll put one of my silent bullets through his heart, — that's what I'll do for him, Tom." " No, you won't ; we can do without ifc." " I tell you what it is, Tom. The old squire sent for father t'other day, and asked him all about his being turned out of the farm by my lord up there. ' Never mind. Rosier,' says he^ *you are a hardlv-used laan, and as Giles leaves his holding, at; OEifEROSITY 6F SQtnUE BEAlTCHAM-p. H JLady-day, for a larger fa,rm, you shall have it then, so make your mind easy, and here's a ten-pound note to help you to get a few things together now.' ' Oh, squire,' said father, ' I be thankful, very thankful, for your kindness to an old, broken- down man ; but where be I to find stock for five acres, much more for ft hundred and fifty ? ' ' You'll find it all there, Kosier, ready for you — sheep, cows, pigs, and horses — for which you can pay me when you are able, and not before.' ' Oh, squire,' said father, falling down on his knees, and crying like a child, ' I can't thank' e, sir, as I ought, my heart's too full.' ' Get up,' said Mr. Beauchamp, ' you blubbering old fool, or I'll horsewhip thee; and now, go along to the housekeeper's room, and harkee, tell Mark Will wants to see him.' There, Tom, that's the old squire, and I'll go through fire and water to serve him or any dear to him." " And quite right, too, Mark," replied Tom ; " but here's no fighting to be done now ; and if you won't listen to reason, and be quiet, I'll say no more." " Say on, then." " Fu'st, you'll promise to keep it all snug, and tell the young squire to mind what he's about, too, or the whole thing will be blow'd at once, and I shall get the sack." " Well, Tom, you may trust both of us that nothing shall come out ; mum's the word. Now to business." " Then you go over to Bampton, Mark, and tell Mr. William that this young scamp is coming down to the Castle, and old Harcourt and the young lady are to be asked over to meet him, and stay a few days, whilst my lord is to gammon the old gentleman about Lord Vancourt being a capital match for his ward, rich, good character, and all that kind of thing ; and the young lord is to gammon the heiress, as he's deuced handsome, and has got the gift of the gab. So tell Mr. William to let his sister see Miss Douglas afore she goes to Marston, and warn her of the trap that's so nicely baited to catch her in ; that's all, Mark, for young girls is always took with fine, tall, smart men, like you and me, Mark; and, by all accounts, Lord Yan- court is all that, with a pretty deal more to boot. And if !Mis9 Constance don't go over directly, and put Miss Blanche up to the trick, it's ten to one she's snapped up at once ; and, by all accounts, she'd better be buried than married to such a young rascal as this is. That's all Mark, so good-bye, and I'U let you know more about him when he comes down." Mark did not lose much time in going over to Bampton the 7^ THE MASTEB OF THE HOUNDS. Eame evening, waiting in the servants' hall until dinner "was removed, and the ladies had left the dining-room, when the butler whispered in his joiing master's ear, " Mark Rosier is waiting to see you, sir." Beauchamp rose at once, and, leaving the room, went to the servants' hall. " Well, Mark, what's in the wind now ? " " Something, sir," replied Mark, in a low tone, " for your ©ar alone." " Oh, very well ; then follow me to the library." When the door was closed, Mark placed his ear to the key- hole, for a second or two, to listen. " Ah," said Beauchamp, "there's something particular to-night. What is it, Mark? but our men don't practise that trick, eaves-dropping ; found some more traps set, I suppose, by those rascally Marston keepers 1 " " Worse than that, sir," replied Mark. " I've caught Lord Mervyn himself setting traps — not for foxes, sir, but for a young lady." " Ah ! indeed ; what young lady 1 " Mark then related the whole story he had heard from Thomas Carter, during wliich Beauchamp sat listening in breathless silence, his varying colour and contracted brow betraying his inward emotion. When he had finished, Mark inquired, " Well, sir, isn't that a deep and rascally trick 1 It beats poaching all to nothing." " It's a dark, damnable plot, Mark," replied Beauchamp ; " but a delicate business for mt* to handle, in warning the young lady of her danger ; she may think it only a trick of mine, to prevent her marrying this young lord, and women are very suspicious in such matters." " Very true, sir, but Miss Constance must do it, not you." " Even with her, Mark, it is very ticklish ground to enter upon." " Then, sir, I'll settle it for you at once, by putting a bullet through that scamp's head, before ever he enters Marston Castle." " Hush ! Mark," said Beauchamp, rising from his chair; " no man's blood shall be shed on my account." " Many a man's blood has been shed for a much less oftence than this, sir. What is robbery on the highway to trapping and plundering a young lady of all her property, in this bare- faced manner St that's what I want to know." MARK EOSIER EXPOSES tHE PLOT. ^9 *' One is contrary to law, tlie other is not, Mark." "-Ay, ay, sir, law — there it is — hiw and lawyers — cheating, robbing, murdering, may all be done under the law, but not against it." " Well, we can't mend it, Mark." " No, but this I'll mend so far, begging your pardon. I'll shoot that young scamp of a lord, and the old un into the bar- gain, before he shall ever carry off that dear, sweet young lady, Miss Blanche. So, squire, if you and Miss Constance won't save her from such a pit-fall as this, I will, sir, that's all, if I swing for it." " ISTo, Mark, this shall never be. Remember the command- ment, 'Thou shalt do no murder.' This young lord has a right to try his chance, as well as others. We may expose his and Lord Mervyn's attempts to sail under false colours, and make Miss Douglas the dupe of their dark design ; that is all we have a right to do. I and my sister must consider in what way to make the disclosure." " It must be done at once, sir ; mind, the trap is set already, and wants watching night and day. I and Thomas sha'n't have much to do with sleep, I'm thinking, when he comes down, and I hope you won't, sir ; so good night, squire. You'll see me again shortly ; but I mustn't keep you from your com- pany any longer now." "Then go and get some supper, Mark, and keep a still tongue on this matter."' " No fear of that, sir ; " with which they parted. On Beauchamp's return to the dining-room, he was asked by his father the name of his visitor. " Mark Rosier," was the reply. " All ! a little more trickery a-foot, I suppose. Will." " Just so, but nothing particularly interesting to our friends here." The hint was sufl3.cient to prevent further questions, although Conyers, who was of the party, resolved to know more about itj and when they left the dining-room^ taking Beauchamp aside, he asked — " What had Mark to tell you. Will ? you have been thought- ful and absent ever since. AVhat's the matter ? " " Something has annoyed me, Bob, that is all." " Then if you consider me your friend, Beauchamp, let me share your annoyances and your pleasures equally — your secret shall be safe with rie." b'O ♦the master of the hounds. "You are entitled to my confideDce," said BeaucKamp, "and in this matter particularly, where you have also an interest, but it must not pass your lips." He then related Mark's story. " Ah, that scoundrel Yernon," exclaimed Bob ; " revenge is sweet. I see it all, and must sleep here to-night, that you and I may talk over this business in the morning, and take Con- stance into our counsels. "Women are quicker in such cases than men, so no more now on this subject." The next morning, Constance was admitted to the confer- ence on Lord Mervyn's plot ; and although expressing herself quite willing to warn her friend of her danger, her opinion was, that Blanche might probably consider her interference in an equivocal light, and savouring perhaps of interested motives. "You are right. Con," said Bob, "and this warning will come better from me ; I will bring it about, somehow or other so that neither you, your brother, nor Mark, can be compro- mised, as I am acquainted with a young fellow, belonging to Lord Yancourt's club in London, who knows him tolerably well, and from whom I can obtain all the information we re- quire, as to his fortune, character, &c. &c. ; for the rest, trust the brains of an old fox-hunter to checkmate these crafty lords at their game of gammon. The Harcourts are all invited to Compton's on Friday next, the day before our fixture there, when I hear there is to be a little dance in the evening ; but don't either you or Will even allude to such a person as Lord Yancourt." We must now pass over a few days, until the evening of Friday, in the ensuing week, when, about half-past nine, all the principal families in the neighbourhood were assembled in the grand saloon at Mr. Compton's house, which had been tastefully arranged as a ball-room for this occasion. Among the company, Conyers recognised, much to his surprise, Captain Melville, to whom he had wi-itten a few days previously about Lord Yancourt. "Ah ! Melville," exclaimed Conyers, " what brings you into this part of the world ?" " Why, to tell you the truth, old fellow, and I don't think you'll blab, it is a little bit of speculation. Colonel Bolleston wrote me word, there was a young heiress coming out down here, and if I liked to try my luck, he would do what he could to help me. So here I am, staying with Bolleston ; and if the young lady is good-looking, as well as rich, I should not mind A NOBLE SCAMP. 81 becoming a Benedict ; but you know I cannot marry without money, although I would never tie myself to a plain, disagree- able woman, were she as rich as Croesus." " Well," said Conyers, " there is something more manly ip that confession than we meet with in most fortune-hunters ; but you will find more impediments to your suit than you imagine, as her guardian, Mr. Harcourt, who is here to-night, has set his mind on having a coronet for his ward, in the person of her cousin, expected down every day." " That is bad news, indeed, Bob ; but still I'll have a trial for her, if she suits my fancy." "By-the-bye, Melville, have you seen anything of Lord Vancoui't lately ?" "Not since the season closed in town, and I don't wish to Bee any more of him." "Why so?" "Because he is an ill-tempered, imperious fellow, disliked by every man in the club, and a confounded blackguard also." " Indeed," said Conyers, affecting surprise. "He is as poor as a church mouse, gambles and cheats at cards, like the devil, to keep up appearances, and keeps an Italian singer, to whom, report says, he is completely com- mitted, or positively married, so that he cannot get rid of her. In fact, he has tried to palm her off on some of his friends, but the woman won't budge, and sticks to him like a leech." " Egad ! I did not expect to hear all this of Lord Yancourt ; for a friend of mine asked me something about him, a short time ago, and I wrote to you, the other day, to inquire if you knew him." "Too well," replied Melville; "but your letter was, I con- clude, directed to my club, and has not reached me ; and now, Bob, show me the heiress." " There she is, dressed in white, with pearls twisted in her hair, leaning on her aunt's arm, at the upper end of the room." "What, that rather tall beautiful girl, now speaking to Mrs. Rollestonr' " The same, Melville." * Then, by Jov© 1 she is, to my mind, the prettiest womam in the room, and I am off for an introduction." In a few minutes after, Melville was presented by Mrs. RoUeston to Mrs. Hai'^ourt and her niece ; and his first words were addressed to the latter, requesting the honour of dancing with her. " I believe." replied Blanche, " that I am already F 8S I^HE MASTER OP THE HOUNBS. engaged for every dance this evening." When Melville, dis- concerted at this unexj)ected damper to his highly wrought expectations, bowed and withdrew, as Beaiichamp, who had dined that evening at Compton's and bespoke the first qua- drille, ap23roached and offered his arm. The heiress being the great attraction of the evening, many inquisitive, and many more envious glances were directed towards her and her partner, to scan every look and gesture of each ; but both were too much occupied with their own. thoughts to think of others. Beauchamp's gentlemanly, quiet attentions, with his peculiarly happy and clieerful smile, and Blanche's radiant looks, were noticed by Melville's quick eye, who inquired of Conyers the name of her partner. " Beauchamp," was the reply, " our young Master of Fox- hounds; but why do you ask, Melville?" " There's something so frank and manly in that fellow's face, with such quiet, kind manners, that any girl might fall in love with him ; and I'll bet a cool hundred, by her behaviour, the heiress is booked already." " Oh, nonsense," replied Conyers ; " Will Beauchamp is one of the kindest-hearted fellows in the world, and has known Miss Douglas many years, but he is no fortune-hunter." " Perhaps not," replied Melville ; " but that girl thinks more of him than you suppose." " Not that, I'll engage ; but now I will introduce you to Miss Mai'kham, the wittiest, if not the prettiest girl in the room." There was a very large conservatory at one end of the saloon, the doors of which were thrown open to afford a pro- menade to the dancers after their exertions, flower-stands occu- pying the centre, with a wide walk round, and seats were disposed at the lower end under magnificent orange trees. To this Elj'sian retreat Beauchamp conducted his partner when the dance was over ; and standing by her side, under the orange tree, examining the buds and young oranges, he alluded to thex last meeting in Aunt Gordon's conservatory, which called th crimson blush to her cheek. " Tell me, dear Blanche," he said, " have you quite forgive fiy jDresumption on that occasion ?" " Oh ! yes, were it needed, your pardon has been long ago assured." " Then, will you accept and wear this little trinket, wliich may sometimes remind you of my undying regard, when we may be separated for ever ? " A LOVE TOKEH. 83 " Bo not say that, William, for I tnist such will never he the case." "Oh, that your words may be realised," he replied; "but will you accept my little offering, a basket of flovv^ers?" as he placed the trinket in her hand. " Oh, AYilliam ! what a pretty little ornament ! intended for a brooch, I suppose?" " Yes, dear Blanche, the design was my own ; the flowers in stones, emblematical of those feelings I shall ever entertain toAvards you. Will you keep it, and wear it for my sake ?" " Yes, indeed I will, William, though I require no such, remembrancer of my regard for you." " Thanks, dearest Blanche, for that admission, which I shall treasure up in the deepest recesses of my heart ; but I must now lose your too dearly-prized society, as Captain Markham is approaching to claim your hand — that dear little liand " he added in a low tone, "which I would give worlds to call my Blanche blushed deeply, casting her eyes on the ground; but the Captain's near advance prevented her making any reply. "Shall I keep the brooch for you, dear Blanche," ho whispered, "until the ball is over?" " Oh, yes," she replied, " pray do." "The last dance, remember," he added, "you have promised me." " I shall not forget it, William," looking in his face with au expression that made Beauchamp's heart throb and beat most joyfully, as she turned to accept the Captain's arm. " Eh 1 pon honour, IMiss Douglas," exclaimed Markham, " I have been searching for you in every corner ; couldn't think where you had gone; the quadrille has begun already; but really this is a delightful place, don't wonder at your loitering here, with Will Beauchamp, too — giving you an account of his last run, I suppose : good sort of fellow enough, but a little too fond of hunting — not quite a ladies' man, eh ! Miss Douglas 1 " "No," she replied, gaily, "if by a ladies' man you mean one who is always making fine, flattering speeches, and paying compliments he does not feel." " Eh? — no — not exactly; a true ladies' man devotes himself entirely to the fair sex, lives and exists only in their smiles." " Then he must be, by your account, quite an ethereal bein^ and never thinks of eating supper at a ball, I conclude." F 2 84 THE MASTER OF rfHE HOUKDS. " Really, Miss Douglas, that is going a little too far, for, by Gad, I feel very peckish to-night, and intend doing ample justice to Compton's good things at one o'clock. But, demmit — I beg pardon, Miss Douglas — our place is occupied as vis- a -vis to that fallow Yernon and his partner, who promised to keep it open. What shall we do ? — Gad ! I have it — ask that good- tempered Beauchamp to find a partner, and then we can cut in somewhere." This arrangement was soon made, much to Beauchamp's delight, who had again an oj)portunity of holding that hand in his, whose pressure told as much as words could explain. The evening passed pleasantly away with a succession of dances, for every one of which Miss Douglas had been speedily engaged on her first entering the room, until the hour of supper, when Bob Conyers handed her into the room ; and Beauchamp politely ofiering his arm to Mrs. Harcoiirt, it was graciously accepted. The friendly terms on which Beauchamp seemed to be with that lady called forth the sarcastic sneers of Vernon, who sat nearly opposite to them with one of the Miss RoUestons. " Ah ! " he said, " Beauchamp is trying to utter soft things to the old lady aunt, as well as the heiress, to-night ; but the quarry is too high game for his arrows to reach." " I think," remarked Miss Bolleston, " William Beauchamp has much to recommend him, were he to think seriously of Miss Douglas." " Nothing that I know of," replied Yernon, " except a good voice with hounds and a tolerable seat on horseback, which any groom might possess." "For shame, Mr. Yernon, to speak in such terms of one who is so universally admitted to be a perfect gentleman in manners and feelings ; but I know Miss Douglas was a great favourite of yours once, and now, I suppose, the grapes are sour." "The grapes are not to be plucked by plebeian hands," retorted Yernon, " therefore could never fall to my gathering or his, which that fool Beauchamp will soon find to his cost also." "Miss Douglas is free to choose whom she pleases, I suppose," observed Miss Bolleston, " at least, when she comes of age j and if she will take my advice, she will marry the man of her own choice, not her guardian's." "A coronet studded with gems is a very pretty attractive toy to a young, artless girl," said Yernon. " But not to a sensible one," added Miss Bolleston. A WELL-MERITED REPROOF. ~ 85 ** Oh, of course not ; but tliere are not many such sensible young ladies as Miss Rolleston, who would refuse the glittering bauble when offered to them ; and I suspect, after all, Miss Douglas will not decline to be made a peeress when the proposal is made." " What proposal, Mr. Vernon ? " " Oh," replied he, carelessly, " her cousin Malcolm is named for one, and other poor devils of our grand noblesse will, no doubt, put in a bidding, when she is trotted out for sale to the highest bidder, with old Haxcourt as auctioneer." " You ought to be ashamed of yourself, INIr. Yernon," replied Miss Rolleston, indignantly, " to speak in such disrespectful terms of that sweet girl, whose greatest misfortune may be that she is an heiress." A move was now made from the supper-table, and the last on the list being a country dance, Beauchamp claimed Blanche's promise, and they were soon engaged with hands across, down the middle, uj) again, until she was nearly exhausted with this incessant work. " Come, dear Blanche," he whispered, " this is too much for you, who have been dancing all night. I will not allow you to go on longer, or you will be quite laid up to-morrow. Take my arm, and we will walk about until you are cooler; for I heard Mrs. Harcourt say the carriage was ordered exactly at three, and it is now within a quarter of the time." Beauchamp was leading her to the conservatory again, when she said — " Not there, William ; my aunt will be angry if she cannot find us when the carriage arrives." " One turn only, dear Blanche, to give up my little present to your keeping ; but do not tremble or fear me, dearest ; the word you apprehend shall not escape my lips again this night." When they had reached the upper end, near the orange-trees, Beauchamp, taking Blanche's pocket-handkerchief, tied the little jewel-case in one corner of it, and returned it to her with- out another word or comment. " And now, dear Blanche, we will attend upon your aunt, and I shall send Constance to- morrow to see how you are, as I must be out hunting." In a few moments the carriage was announced, and the company began rapidly to disjDerse. And now what are we to say of all William Beauchamp's good resolutions, which had been scattered to the winds 1 and his firm determination not to make Blanche Douglas acquainted with the feelings of his heart until she had mixed more in the 86 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. ■vvoiid 1 All had been over-ruled by the dread of her falling into the trap set for her by Lord Mervyn and Vernon. His love, long pent up within his ov/n breast, was now suddenly called forth by the horror of losing her for ever, and her being wedded to such a fate as that designed by these unprincipled plotters against her fortune and happiness. The heiress ceased to be remembered as the lieiress ; Beauchamp thought only of that dear, pure-minded girl whose image had been so long entwined about his heart. " She ought at least to know," argued he, "that there is one who loves her dearer than his own life, and would support her through every trial." And he argued still more plausibly to himself that the confession of his love could be no barrier to her selection of any other person more congenial to her taste. This, of course, it would not have been, had Blanche been free of herself to choose ; but, fortu- nately or unfortunately, Beauchamp's expression of love had struck a respondent chord in her heart, which vibrated through her whole frame. On the night of Sir Lionel Markham's dinner-party, Blanche had experienced certain inexplicable sensations towards William Beaucliamp, which were redoubled on their meeting at the Priory a few days after ; and she now felt, after carefully analysing her feelings, that she loved him dearly, intensely— and oh ! the delight of that night's revelation — that she was beloved in return ! Blanche Douglas had received the blessing of a sound religious education from a lady of good family, who had resided many years with her pupil, and who faithfully dis- charged her duty to her youthful charge by firmly impressing on her mind those high principles of religion and morality, which would prove her greatest comfort and protection during the trials and temptations which she would most probably be exposed to in after life. Mrs. Barratt loved Blanche as her own daughter ; and bitter, indeed, was the parting between gover- ness and pupil, when the kind-hearted woman left Throseby, a few months previously, her services being no longer required by Mrs. Harcourt. " Dear, kind Mrs. Barratt," exclaimed Blanche, sobbing and crying at her departure, "you must promise to come and live with me, when I am married, or become mistress of my own property — indeed you must. I shall never be happy Vvithoul you." "My dear child," replied Mrs. Barratt, "you know little now of the duties and trials of niarricd life; your husband SEASONABLE COUNSEL. 87 would never consent to sucli an arrangement as you propose, and it would then be your duty to conform to his wishes — I would not say commands — as every wife should obey hei husband." "Then, dear Mrs. Barratt, I will never marry till I can find one who will love me for myself alone, and love all those I love — kind-hearted and afi*ectionate like yourself — who will yield to all mv reasonable desires, and endeavour to make me, as I Bhould him, truly happy." "Marriage is a great lottery, dear Blanche, and I would earnestly caution you against accepting any man, however handsome or agreeable — however rich, or talented, or titled — unless you have an opportunity of thoroughly ascertaining his true character. ' Never marry in haste, and repent at leisure.' Your large fortune will attract many pretended admirers, men of the world, to whom love, in its true meaning, is utterly un- known ; and when once in possession of your fortune, they might treat you with indifference and neglect. Indeed, my dear, dear child, a young girl with a large fortune stands in a much worse position, in regard to her prosjDects of happiness in the married state, than one who has nothing beyond her own mental and personal attractions. Among all your neighbours, there is not any gentleman I know in the least degree calculated to make you happy, except one, and he, I fear, is too high-minded and fastidious in his ideas about money, ever to aspire to the hand of the heiress ; that person, my dear child, is William Beauchamp. He is fond of hunting, because it is a bold, manly amusement, in many respects resembling war ; and had he adopted the army as a profession, the name of William Beauchamp would have stood conspicuous in his country's defence. With the most chivalrous feelings of honour, a deep sense of religion, a firm and unshaken resolu- tion, and one of the most kind and loving hearts that ever beat in human breast, the woman who shall marry William Beau- champ will draw a j)rize indeed." " Dear Mrs. Barratt," replied Blanche, " I believe William to be all you rej)resent him, and you know I consider him and Constance as my brother and sister." "Yes, dear child, glad am I to leave you with two such friends, to whom I can safely entmst your happiness; prize them, love them, dearest Blanche, as I know they love you, and never keep a secret from your sister Constance, who will ever direct and guide you in the patli of duty and religion ; 88 THE MASTEE OF THE HOUNDS. and now farewell, my own long-loved, dearest child, and may Heaven protect yon from every evil, and that greatest of all evils, a bad hnsband." when, straining her to her breast once more, Mrs. Barratt rushed from the room, and poor Blanche sank helpless in her chair, convulsed with sobs and sorrow, where she sat crying until her maid Alice entered, and exerted all her entreaties and kind offices to soothe and comfort her almost broken-hearted young lady. " Oh, my dear mistress," cried Alice, kneeling at her feet, " pray do not give way thus " (at the same time wiping with her apron the tears trickling down her own cheeks). " Poor, dear, kind Mrs. Barratt, we shall all miss her so," and she began sobbing herself as if her heart would break. " Oh, IMiss Blanche, this will be a sad day — but there, I declare, is Mrs. Harcourt's step coming this way," which roused the two young girls to check their emotions. " Why, Blanche," exclaimed Mrs. Harcourt, witnessing the traces of her grief, " I thought you possessed too high a sense of decorum to give way to such sobs and lamentations, and in the presence of your servant ; indeed, you ought to rejoice at Mrs. Barratt's good fortune, in having, through your Aunt Gordon's recommendation, obtained such a desirable situation as companion to old Mrs. Dacre, where she will have nothing whatever to do." " I cannot, dear aunt," replied Blanche, still sobbing, " re- frain from grieving at the loss I have sustained in dear Mrs. Barratt. who has ever been to me a second mother ; but if you will leave me, I will endeavour to be more composed." " Well, my dear, make haste, and wash away all traces of your tears, for I expect some visitors this morning, and you must be in the drawing-room to help me to receive them." Mrs. Harcourt was one of those cold, unapproachable beings, living within the frigid zone, repellent alike, and impervious to every genial influence ; in fact, she belonged to that numerous class denominated the imperturbahles, who consider it a breach of decorum to be affected by those common occurrences which exercise so foolish an influence over the generality of the human race. Excess of grief for the loss of friends and relations, or excess of joy at their recovery, in her ideas, betrayed a weakness of mind in those who could indulge in such way^vard fancies, and decidedly at variance with the rules of propriety and etiquette to be observed, without exception, upon all occasions. She was one of those persons who would, if engaged in tho THE VEIL WITHDRAWN. 89 Satanical pastime of table-tiirning and table-rapping, have stood as a six-foot-thick wall to prevent any rotatory motion of the said table towards herself, possessing not one atom of electricity In her whole composition. Blanche Douglas, it need scarcely be said, unfortunately for her own peace of mind and individual happiness, was a native of the torrid zone, and therefore the very opposite in disposition and character to Mrs. Harcourt. Like the young offshoot of a vine, stretching forth its tender and pliant tendrils for support, this young, warm-hearted girl (when bereft of the mainstay of her childhood, in the person of Mrs. Barratt) looked around for one to whom she could cling for comfort and sympathy in her feelings, and love with the intensity of her deep and abiding attachment. In Constance she had found a firm and warm friend, to whom, as a sister, she could communicate all her joys and sorrows ; but her feelings towards William Beauchamp had become almost unintelligible to herself for some time past, Mrs. Barratt's remarks occasioning a shyness and embarrassment in her manner towards him, not l3efore experienced, when viewing him (which she had from an early age) as her brother only. The veil was now withdrawn — she knew that she loved, with the ardour of her first purest affections, him to whom she could cling through life, as women only can and do cling to the husband of their choice. On retreating to her room after her return from Mrs. Compton's ball, Blanche carefully examined her pretty little basket of flowers (Beauchamp' s present), and every word and look of his were recalled to her mind, as, pressing it to her lips, she imprinted a fond kiss upon its glittering surface. " Yes, dear William," she exclaimed, " I will indeed treasure this little trinket for your sake, although you are seldom absent from my thoughts, and your love to me is far beyond all earthly treasuroo." 90 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. CHAPTER IX. The breakfast at Mr. Compton's, after the ball, presented a strikinoc contrast to that of Marston Castle. All faces beamed with happy smiles and joyous good humour, induced by the kind reception they experienced from the master and mistress of Brockley House, who welcomed friends and strangers alike to partake of their hosiDitality. Opposite to the breakfast-room windows on the lawn were congregated about three hundred pheasants, called together by the keeper's whistle, and enjoying their breakfast also. " Ah ! " remarked Mrs. Compton, playfully to Bob Conyers, whose eyes were riveted on the game, " I judge what your feel- ings are in witnessing this formidable array of your enemies j but come, I will make you a bet of five shillings that there is one of your friends lurking in that bed of laurels, not twenty yards from the spot where the pheasants are now feeding." " Thank you, my d-ear madam, for your kind offer of reliev- ing my pockets of its contents, which may possibly amount to the sum you have named, and which I should most certainly lose, were I rash enough to accept such a wager. As we are all well aware of your and Mr. Compton's liberality in catering for your friends in pink jackets, there is no person to whom I could hand over five shillings with less reluctance than to your- self ; but as my purse is not on any day of the week incon- veniently burdened with the coin of the realm, and on hunting days contains only sufficient for the contingencies which may occur, such as a feed of corn and a bucket of gruel for my horse, probably a lost shoe or two, and a glass of brandy and water for myself, with a few little extras for ostler and turnpikes on my road to and from hunting, I could not venture on such a hazard as an even bet, although I would not refuse four to one, which I think are the fair odds against a fox being found in the bed of Wn-els." " There, Mr. Conyers, look there," cried a little girl, nmning up to him, " there is a fox just peeping out from the laurels." " By Jove, my darling ! " exclaimed Bob, taking the child up in liis arms and kissing ht^ " you have just saved me from losing a shilling to ycur mamma, which, by tbe waj^, I dare say, is verj- provoking to her ; but to pacify her anger, you may whisper to her that Bob's annual, on Christmas Day, will make some amends for her disappointment." THE LION Of THE DAY. ;) I " Tell me what my present is to be," said the child. "No, my dear, you must wait patiently till the basket arrives." "Really, Mr. Conyers," exclaimed ]\frs. Compton, "it is very provoking to see how yon spoil my children ; they are quite unmanageable when you are here, and I really think I must forbid you the liouse, or they will be entirely ruined." " If indulgence is to cause this," returned Bob, " I think their mamma will have much more to answer for than Bob Conyers." " Well, INIr. Conyers, we are all now impatient to begin our day's sj)ort, which we can see from the terrace ; so give a hint to William Beauchamp, or these increasing new comers will soon clear off our stock of old cherry brandy." "Thank you for the hint," replied Conyers, " as I have not yet had my glass of jumping powder." The hounds having arrived, Mr. Compton' s guests quickly dispersed in search of theii' steeds ; the lion of the day, on whom all eyes were turned, being a great Leicestershire squire, who had for many years hunted that country with a splendid pack of fox-hounds, but was now settled down on his own patrimonial estates. It being one of his maxims, that every fence was practicable with a fall, it is almost needless to say, he was a bold and fearless rider, and that no obstacle ever stopped him. In stature, he was about the general standard, with a broad, expansive chest, and features, if not handsome, yet manly, reflecting the spirit, which was working within, of cool determi- nation and undaunted courage. His seat on horseback was neither studied nor graceful, but easy and careless as his manner of riding across country, to which may be attributed many of the severe falls he encountered, which were of such continued occurrence, that he never appeared quite satisfied without his general allowance of half-a-dozen per diem. " Oh, demmit ! " exclaimed Markham, who had been listen- ing to a recital of the great squire's exploits, retailed by "Vernon, "what a confounded fire-eating monster he looks! he'll pound us all to-day, and ride away from Burnett and Beauchamp too." " I hope so," replied Yernon, " and that both of them may break their necks in trying to catch him." " Eh ! indeed, Dick, you're a nice member of the hunt, aint you, to wish cveiy man of us to be beaten by a stranger ? but 92 THE MASTEK OF THE HOUNDS. I'll bet you an even five pounds he don't beat Will Beauchamp or Burnett." " Done, Markham, and I'll make it ten, if you like." "Take him at his word," cried Sir Lucius Gwynne, who overheard the conversation, " and I'll go halves with you." " Done, then, Vernon," exclaimed the Captain ; " Gwynne's witness to the bet." " And now," said Sir Lucius, " I'll bet you two to one on Beauchamp against the great Leicestershire man. Will you have it, Yernon 1 " " No, I thank you,'* was the reply ; " I shall take no more on that event to-day ; but who is to decide ? " " We will have Burnett," said Gwynne ; " you can choose Tyler, or any other first-flight man you prefer to him." All being now mounted and ready for action, the hounds were thrown into the evergreens near the house, and in a moment the fox broke across the lawn. Dashing through the stable-yard below and some out-buildings, which screened him from view, he immediately sank into the vale, taking his line through the most formidable fences of the whole country. Will Beauchamp and his whipper-in Charley were with the hounds, KS usual, but had not crossed more than three fields before the great hero was down upon them, at full speed, and going at a small brook as if a river were in his way. " He'll catch it there," cried Charley to his master, as the great squire and his horse went floundering into the stream. " I should have thought, sir, a man of his business habits had know'd what boggy ground meant afore to-day; but come along, sir, there's plenty to help him out ; " and, sooth to say, there were about a dozen of the " finest fellows in the world '* in the same predicament, with their horses up to their hocks, struggling in the mire. Sir Francis, however, had the sense to avoid the trap, and followed in the track of Will Beauchamp, who, with Charley, kept the lead with the hounds, until they ran into their fox, in an oj)en grass field, after a burst of thirty- five minutes, without a check. Sir Francis, Tyler, Gwynne, and Fred Beauchamp were the four next up, and close behind them came the lion of the day, hot and furious. " Confound that bog ! " he exclaimed ; "it spoiled my start completely, and you know, Burnett, five minutes lost are hard to recover in a quick thing like this ; but I'll take care the hounds don't get out of my sight with our second fox." " Don't make too sure of that," replied Sir Francis ; " we THE BET WOK. 93 are not in Leicestersliire now, but one of the stiffest vales 1 ever crossed yet, where hounds can and will beat the horses.'* " They can't beat me,'* replied the great squire. " They have done it once already, and will do it again, T hope," rejoined Burnett ; " that is, if the scent holds as good with the next fox we find." By this time the Captain and Yernon had reached the spot^ when the former appealed to Gwynne about his bet. " You have won this heat clearly enough, Markham," replied Sir Lucius, " as Beauchamp had his fox in hand five minutes at least before the great man showed at all, and four of us were before him." " Eh ! Yernon, 'pon honour, no mistake about it — ^lost your money, old fellow ; but come, I'll let you ofi" for a five pound note — demmed liberal ofier, eh ? " " 1 won't take it, Markham, for I feel certain of winning, as an accident only prevented my man being in his proper place, where he is sure to be the next run." " Oh, very well," replied the Captain ; " as you please." The hounds were now taken to one of the finest fox coverts in the world — a large hazel coppice of about one hundred acres, situated in the centre of a fine grass country, with large, open pasture fields. " Ah ! " exclaimed the Leicestershire squire, " this is some- thing like a hunting country, with plenty of room to fall, with- out half a score fellows being in upon a man when he*s down. Now, Burnett, we may fancy ourselves at Billesdon again." " With this difierence only," replied Sir Francis, " that there we can take our fences at a fly ; here it cannot be done, with a wide ditch on both sides, and a big, thundering bank and quickset in the middle." "I shall try it, notwithstanding," rejoined the squire. " Then you don't see our second fox killed, that's settled ; but, hark ! by Jove ! they have found him." And with a scream, which thrilled through the hearts of all. Will Beauchamp viewed him over the ride. In a moment the whole pack was at work, rattling him round the covert. "Beautiful!" exclaimed the great squire: "how those big brutes stick to him ! Gad, sir, they squeak like terriers, light enough in their tongue — eh, Burnett ?" " Yes, there's little cry with them, and when they run hard, you can scarcely hear them at all ; tip and go is their motto, and I've seen them run half a mile with their fox in view, 94 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. without a liouncl giving tongue. But, look ! tliey are away at the bottom of the covert, while we are standing here." " Now for it, then," cried Sir Francis, as, sticking his spurs into his horse, he dashed down the nearest drive ; but Beau- champ, with his whip Charley, had got the start, and kept the lead for three miles of very severe country, until the hounds were brought to a check on the banks of a deep brook, where the fox, having been headed by a man at work in the field o]iposite, had doubled back, and thrown them into some little confusion. At this moment the Leicestershire squire made his entree into the field, in rather an unceremonious manner, by being thrown head foremost from his saddle over a high bank, with his horse scrambling after him. Beauchamp, hearing the crash behind him, turned and asked if he was hurt. "Hurt!" he exclaimed; "no, / am not often hurt by a fall ; but now we are even, sir," addressing Beauchamp, as the hounds settled again on the scent j " so come along : " and he rode savagely at the brook, cheering Beauchamp to follow. Our young master, with Charley, were quickly by his side, when the great man, thinking to pound them, rode at some stifi" post and rails against the hill, which his horse, having the wind knocked out of him already, was unable to clear, and, breaking the top rail, again gave his master a severe fall. "Thank you," said Beauchamp, as he passed the prostrate Bquire, " for letting me over so easy." "I am not beaten yet," was the retort, as he once more jumped into his saddle ; and, rendered furious by the fall, he rode desperately at a new five-barred gate, over which he fell heavily into a hard turnpike road, his horse also lying stunned on his back. "ISTow, sir," said Beauchamp, jumping from his saddle, "you are hurt, or ought to be ; pray let me assist you." " Oh, never mind me," faintly ejaculated the squire ; " this is deuced hard falling ground ; but confound that rascally groom of mine, for mounting me on a horse not fit to go. I'll discharge him this very night. Thank you, Mr. Beauchamp, for your attention. I am all right again now ; pray go on with your hounds. I will soon be with you." Bob Conyers and others now coming up, Beauchamp whis-. pered to him a few M^ords about the great man's fall, and rode away to catch his hounds, which, by the way, he never could, until, with Charley alone, they had killed their second fox among the laurels on Mr. Compton's lawn, on the very spot fHE REAL LiOlf OP I'HE DAt. 05 where tliey had found their first in the morning. Beanchamp, with his h()rse quite fresh from his short respite, when assisting the fallen hero, went rapidly away from the rest (whose horses were already in distress from the pace up to the road), and "svas standing on the la%vii with the hounds (the fox being suspended in a tree) baying around, at least five minutes before any other horseman made his appearance ; Mr. and Mrs. Compton, with the children and all the domestics, enjoying the scene. To Beauchamp's surprise, the first man up was Markliam, who exclaimed, " Eh ! aw ! Beauchamp, 'pon honour, gave 'em all the slip — hurrah ! — awful pace, 'pon my soul, all right — won my bet!" " But what a figure you are, Markham ! Where's your hat ?" "In the brook, old fellow, where I left half-a-dozen with theu' horses ; got out myself on the right side ; up the hill like wildfire ; passed the great man on the road — very squeamish indeed ; cut into an old lane, leaving Burnett, Tyler, and G Wynne rasping away cross country to my right, and here I am, first for once in my life ; and now, Beauchamp, give me the brush, which I would not lose for a five-pound note." " I have promised it to Mrs. Compton," replied Beauchamp, " who was the first in at the finish." " Then," replied that lady, " I willingly waive my claim in favour of Captain Markham, as a little compensation for the loss of his hat." " Thank you, INIrs. Compton, for your kind consideration," rej^lied the Captain, with a low bow ; and the said appendage was accordingly handed to him by Charley, who pocketed a sovereign for the present. " Won ten yellow boys, to-day," whispered the Captain. "How so, sir?" inquired Charley. " By your master beating the Leicestershire hero." " Glad to hear it, sir ; wish you had won fifty." "Have you seen anything of Rushtonl" inquked Mrs. Compton. "Oh, yaas," replied Markham ; "left him on the road ; bad fall — ribs smashed, I suspect, or something of that sort — looked seedy — very." " I hoj^e not seriously hurt," said Mrs. Comj)ton, anxiously. " Oh, no, can't be — never is hurt, by his own account — only queerish." Preceded by Six Francis, Tyler, Fred Beauchamp, Gwynne, and Conyers, who were in the first flight, the lion of the day 9^ THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. now hove in siglit, looking uniitterably disgusted ; in fact, his whole frame had received so great a shock from his heavy fall on the hard road, that, although no bones were broken, he was fearfully bruised about his head, ribs, and right arm, which was nearly paralysed. Giving his horse to the groom, with sundry anathemas for his want of condition, the great man walked on to the lawn, where he stood for a few moments talking with Mrs. Compton, and then retired to his own room for the luxury of a warm bath. The fox was now thrown to the hounds, as the heavy weights, including Sir Lionel, Squire Beauchamp, and others, with whom Yernon had been in company, arrived on the scene, and many and hearty were the congratulations on their capital day's sport. "Ah, Compton !" exclaimed Conyers, " we have always luck on our side, when we meet at your place — no bagmen or three- legged ones here ; and now for a glass of sherry to drink your health and a merry Christmas to all your family, with fifty new years to come, and may they find you still living as heretofore — the friend of fox-hunters." ''And a right hearty welcome to you all," replied Mr. Compton, who led the way into the house, followed by a goodly company of pink jackets, who gladly availed themselves of his proffered hospitality. Markham whispered Gwynne, "A hollow thing, eh 1 No mistake about first man." " None whatever — Yernon must pay." " All right, old fellow — tell him what you say." The losing man did not relish the Captain's hint; but knowing his good nature, put him off by saying they would settle that another day. " Play and pay, Yernon, is the rule on such occasions," said Markham ; " so you must fork out ; had I lost, you would have made me pay quickly enough." " Oh, very well, I'll send you a draft to-morrow or next day," with which he turned aside. On their way home, a comparison was instituted by Sir Francis and Conyers, between the riding of the two rival masters of fox-hounds, Rushton and Will Beauchamp. " In Leicestershire," remarked Burnett, " I think Beau- champ would give way to the great squire." "I don't think he would," retorted Conyers; "for this reason : Will rides with equal science and superior judgment to the other ; he is always with his hounds, in and out of povert, COirPARISONg iKSTlTUTEBo ^7 and is exceedingly quick, "without ever being in a flurry. See liow quietly lie creeps along, always selecting the best ground for his horse, whose resources he husbands to the utmost, with neither whip nor spur to harass or frighten him. Again, when approaching a large fence, he pulls his horse into a trot, if necessary, to give him wind and strength to clear it, easing or lifting him, as occasion may require. The falls he gets are very few and far between, yet he is, as a huntsman ought to be, always with his hounds ; and as to his seat in the saddle, he is a perfect centaur — man and horse appear as one animal," " That's all very time, Conyers," replied Burnett ; " Will Beauchamp is a difficult man to beat in his own country, with his horses so thoroughly made to their master's hand, and at banks and stiff fences they are perfectly at home ; but in Leicestershire those horses would cut a poor figure, where it is going from first to last without the hope of pulling up for a second : nothing but thorough-bred ones can live with hounds there.' " Yery likely, Burnett ; I don't dispute that point ; but this I will maintain, that Will Beauchamp, equally well horsed, shall beat your hero in his own country six days out of ten throughout the season. Yo\u' man is fast and furious, but in my opinion not a thorough good rider, which no one ought to be called who gets such an extraordinary number of falls in a season ; this, although a proof of daring, bull-dog courage, is no proof, but just the reverse, of good horsemanship," " Well, Conyers, there is a good deal of sterling tnith in your remarks, and, I must add, no man entertains a better opinion than I do of Will Beauchamp ; so now, as our roads diverge, good night." CHAPTER X. Bob Conyers was not in words merely, but in deeds also, the firm friend of Will Beauchamp ; and accordingly on the follow- ing Tuesday, we find him at Throseby Hall, sitting with Mrs. Harcourt in her drawing-room, in the hope of eliciting some information about the invitation to Marston Castle, which he knew had been received the previous day ; but that lady evincing no disposition to enlighten him on the subject, Conyers hazarded an experiment at drawing the badger, which fuij^ G 98 fHE MASTER OF THE HOtTIHJS. succeeded, by saying, " I have promised Blanche another riding lesson, and if she is not otherwise engaged, will come over on Thursday morning for that purpose." " "We shall not be at home that day," was the reply. " Oh, very well, the next morning then," said Bob. " "We shall be absent, I fear, that day also," replied Mrs. Harcourt. *' Oh, then, I will find Blanche, and give her a lesson now, ■which will do just as well — there she is, walking in the garden." And without more ado. Bob took up his hat, and left the room. In a few minutes he was walking by her side to the stables, and having ordered her horse to be saddled, she returned to the house to put on her habit, whilst Bob entered the drawing- room. " I do not quite approve," began Mrs. Harcourt, " of Blanche riding." " It is the most healthful recreation in the world, my dear madam," replied Bob, " and strongly recommended to your niece by your o^\ti physician, as the means of giving her exercise and the benefit of the air, without much fatigue." " Yes, I believe in moderation it is very well, but I dread her becomiiii:^ a second Selina Markham." " Then she must change her character entirely," said Bob, " and I never wish Blanche to ride after the fox-hounds ; in fact, to tell you the truth, my dear madam, I do not approve of ladies going out hunting." " Yet Constance does 1 " "Oh, no, merely to see the hounds throw ofi", and then return home ; but Blanche is even too timid for that ; and certainly I shall never advise her to do anything of the kind, although most husbands, and particularly those of the aristocracy, like to see their wives with a good seat on horseback, to parade them in Botten Bow during the London season : and who knows but Blanche may one day become a countess 1 " At these words, the lady in question entered the room, and they at once set out for their ride. When they had passed the lodge gates, Blanche, who had overheard his last words in the di^a wing-room, inquired what he was saying to Mrs. Harcourt about a countess. " Why, my dear Blanche," said Bob, " your aunt Harcourt intends you shall become a duchess, or a countess, at least." " Oh, nonsense, Mr. Conyers ; don't, pray, talk so fool* ish." SOB CONYERS A PROPHET. 99 "Well, then, let me ask, are you not going to-morrow to spend a few days at Marston ? " " Yes, I believe so." " Has such an invitation ever been sent before to Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt and yourself?" "jN"o, I think not." « Ah," replied Bob, " I see it all." « "Wliat do you see, Mr. Conyers 1 " " I will tell you, dear Blanche, on one condition — ^that you do not reveal what I say to any human being." " I should never think of doing so," replied Blanche. " Yery well ; you \vill find at Marston Castle a certain nobleman, called Lord Yancourt, who will pay you great atten- tion, and whom your aunt will try and persuade you to marry." Blanche blushed scarlet at this information, and said, " This is very improbable, Mr. Conyers ! " " Is Bob Conyers a false prophet. Miss Douglas 1 But now mark me, if you do not meet this lord, if he does not pay you the greatest attentions, and within a very short time propose for you, you may then call me one. They have laid a trap to catch you, my dear girl ; and Captain Melville told me at Compton's ball the other night, that a more unprincipled scoundrel (those were his exj)ressions) than this same Lord Yancourt does not exist ; and now your old friend and master having done his duty in warning you of the net set to catch you, he has only one word more to say on the subject, and that one word is — beware I " " Oh, Mr. Conyers," said the young girl, almost in tears, " how can I repay you for your ever kind interest in my wel- fare?" "It would be strange indeed," replied he, "if I did not take an interest, and a deep one too, in that sweet girl I have so often nursed when a child, who has neither father nor brother to watch over and protect her ; and I am fearful your guardian is too worldly-minded to consult your true happiness (which ought to be his chief consideration) in settling you in life ; in fact, I know well that both he and Mrs. Harcourt are resolved on forming some brilliant matrimonial alliance for you amongst the nobility, to which rank they think you have ^ right to aspire. Perceiving that such are their intentions, as your sincere friend, I wish to caution you to consult your own inclinations before their wishes, and never to be persuaded to marry any man, however high in rank, unless his character and disposition are such as to ensure your happiness. Now, dear G 2 100 THE MASTER OE THE HOUNDS. Blanche, my lecture is finished, for which you may p rhapi think old Bob Conyers a fool; but I could not rest happy until I had told you my suspicions, and given you my advice." "Indeed, Mr. Conyers," said Blanche, "I feel most gratefiil for your kindness on this and many more occasions, and I shall ever regard you as one of my best friends." " Well, whenever you want my advice or assistance, do not hesitate a moment, dear Blanche, in applying to me ; but our conversation to-day must be kept a secret from Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt, and do not mention that you heard of Lord Yan- court being expected at Marston, or they will accuse me of intermeddling in what does not concern me." " You may depend I shall never reveal what you tell me in confidence." After which they proceeded on their ride. A select party had been asked to meet Mr. and Mrs. Har- court on the day of their arrival at Marston Castle, besides the guests staying in the house, two of whom were Mr. Harley and his sister, a matronly personage of about forty, clever, well- informed, and chatty, who, having received her instructions from her brother, was fully prepared to laud Lord Yancourt to the skies ; in fact, there was what is termed a packed jury of ladies and gentlemen, carefully chosen by Lord Mervyn from the class sycophantic^ who never ventured to hold an opinion on any matter adverse to his lordship's — Tyler and Yernon being included. Lord Yancourt, who had arrived that day, was about twenty- eight years of age, tall, standing over six feet, with a very good, well-proportioned figure, decidedly handsome, of rather aristo- cratic- lookin 2: features, and an aouiline nose. He had also a profusion of curly black hair, with very bushy eyebrows ; but there was a sinister expression in the eye, which revealed much of his true character. In disposition, he was naturally haughty, overbearing, passionate, and uncompromising ; but having mixed a great deal in good society, his manners were highly polished, and he had the art of rendering himself most agreeable to ladies, with whom he carefully rejDressed all indica- tions of ill-temper or impatience. During the dinner hour, having travelled a great deal, he related in a pleasant, unostentatious manner his various adven- tures by sea and land, and even Blanche, notwithstanding Bob's warning, thought him the most agreeable man she had ever met; tliere was, however, a peculiar expression sometimes in FALSE REPRESENTATIONS. 101 his eyes, so searching and almost fierce, that she felt frightened when they were riveted on her. On the ladies retiring to the drawing-room, Mrs. Harcoitrt, who had been exceedingly pleased with Lord Vancourt, could not suppress her expressions of admiration, to which INIiss Harley fully assented, declaring him a most charming, delight- ful person, so well-informed and unaffected, although of such superior manners and high talents. " In short, my dear madam," said that crafty lady, "Lord Vancourt is quite the ton in the highest circles in town, and eagerly sought after, also, on account of his splendid fortune." '• Is it not surprising, then," inquired Mrs. Harcourt, " that he is still unmarried ] " " Oh, not in the least ; his lordship is so very particular in his choice, fearing he may be accepted on account of his title and fortune : and I think it most probable, with his romantic idea,s about women and marriage, that he will assume the dis- guise of a walking tourist some day, in search of a country damsel, and marry her for love only." This artful speech struck home to Mrs. Harcourt, who thought secretly that he would be just the match to suit her niece. Among the company that evening were the Rollestons, who had brought with them Captain Melville ; and Caroline HoUeston was sitting with Blanche, when Miss Harley was passing such high eulogiums on Lord Yancourt. " Good heavens ! " said Caroline, " how can that woman go on telling such stories about Lord Vancourt, who is one of the most gay, dissipated men about town, and as poor as a country curate ; and they do say, my dear " (in a whisper) " already married to an opera dancer ? but the latter is a secret, which Melville let fall one day, quite unintentionally, and therefore it may be treason to mention it." " Do you think that can really be true 1 " inquired Blanche. " Indeed, I do ; Captain Melville is a person above the suspicion of uttering a falsehood. And did you observe, before dinner, when Lord Vancourt approached to shake hands with him, that he drew back, making him a very low bow 1 " " Perhaps they may have had some quarrel," observed Blanche. " Most likely," replied Caroline, " since no two men can be of more opposite ideas ; but papa says that Captain Melville is a perfect gentleman, and of most honourable feelings." As they were discussing these points, the gentlemen entered 102 THE MASTER OF THE H0UXD3. the room, for Lord Mervyn having observed there was some- thing amiss between his protege^ Lord Vancourt, and Captain Melville, proposed their joining the ladies very early, before any unpleasantry could occur. Lord Vancourt, dreading some exposure from Melville, avoided the heiress that evening, for fear of exciting his remarks, devoting himself chiefly to Lady Mervyn, whilst Melville endeavoured to do the agreeable to Miss Douglas. The evening (with Lord Mer\"yn's dark looks, which exercised a decided influence over the greater part of the company) passed uncomfortably enough to all except Melville, who was quite enchanted with Blanche, thinking her the most lovely, unaffected girl he had ever been acquainted with. The next and three following days, Lord Yancourt paid very assiduous attention to the heiress, for which every oppor- tunity was afforded him by Lord and Lady Mervyn ; Mr. Harley and his sister pursuing a like plan with Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt, by always speaking of Lord Vancourt in the highest terms. Poor Blanche was much more frightened than gratified by his lordship's close attendance upon her during the live-long day ; but her timid, bashful manner, with downcast eyes and blushing cheek, when his glance met hers, led his lordship to the conclusion that he had made a most decided and favourable impression upon the heart of the youthful heiress, and that the game was now safe in his own hands. It is quite true that more facilities are afforded to love- making in a quiet country house, during one week, than may occur in a twelvemonth under different circumstances, with the chance of meeting at a dinner party or a ball occasionally ; which, with so many interruptions and lookers-on, is compara- tively a tedious process, and must take a due allowance of time. So prosperously had Vanccurb advanced already in the opinion of the conspirators, Merv}'n, Vernon, and Harley, that they considered the prize as nearly won, and that he had only now to offer his hand to be accepted ; forgetting the old adage of " there being many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip." Lord Vancourt objected, however, to such precipitancy; avowing his belief that too much haste would spoil the whole affair. " Strike while the iron is hot, is my advice," said Vernon. " You are mistaken," replied Vancourt ; " the iron is not half hot yet, and that girl is so timid that I cannot get on with her as I have done with other women, and see clearly I musl". take THE WORKINa OP THE PLOT. 103 more time with one of her reserved disposition, and lure her on step by step." ""Well," remarked Harley, "your lordship is a better judge of such matters than I pretend to be ; and being the chief person concerned, you have the best reason to act as you think most conducive to your own ends." The Harcourts had been invited to spend a week at Marsto but on the fifth morning a letter arrived from Lord Malcolm, saying he should arrive that same day at Throseby Hall, which obliged jNIr. Harcourt to curtail his visit very suddenly, and return home immediately, much to Blanche's deUght, who, on the plea of a headache, could not be induced to leave her room till the carriage was at the door. During her stay at the castle, whether out walking with Miss Mervyn, or taking a drive in the pony carriage, when the weather would admit. Lord Yan- court contrived to be constantly by her side, Vernon attaching himself to Miss Mervyn ; and in their rambles about the grounds, he kept that young lady at a sufficient distance from Blanche, that Yancourt might have every facility for ingratia- ting himself into her favour ; but the thing was overdone, and Blanche having been left several times in this manner by Miss Mervyn, her sus|)icions were fairly excited by this oft-repeated trick, and Lord Yancourt's increased empressement of manner and language, which even her artless nature could not mis- understand. Blanche Douglas (even if her heart had been entirely free) was a person of such delicate and refined feelings, that Lord Yancourt's conduct (being an acquaintance of only a few days) was becoming quite irksome to her ; and for the last day she had avoided being left alone with him, plead- ing indisposition, to remain in her room until the dinner hour. Yemen, however, had met with a very different reception from Miss Mervyn, who had fallen desperately in love Avith him ; and thus, whilst apparently playing Lord Mervjm's game, he had been, in fact, most industriously dealing his own cards, and obtained a confession from Miss Mervyn of her attachment, which, as a matter of course, was to remain a profound secret for the present. On then- return to Throseby, the Harcourts found Lord Malcolm, who had arrived just before them, and Blanche was in high spirits on again meeting her cousin. " Why, dear Blanche, you are wonderfully improved within the last year — become quite the woman. Well, girls do run up 104 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. in an extraordinary manner, and I suppose you must now be called Miss Douglas." " Never by you, Charles, I hope," she replied, " or by any o/ my true friends." " Well, dear girl, I am delighted to find you looking so lovely and so hapjDy ; but tell me," in a whisper, " how is Constance ? " " As beautiful as ever, or more so," she replied, laughing ; " but we have been staying at that disagreeable place, Marston Castle, nearly a week, and therefore I have seen nothing of her during that time." "Well, then, Blanche, we will ride over to Bampton the day after to-morrow." " Why not to-morrow, Charles 1 " " It won't do, my dear ; old Harcourt would take ofience at my leaving him the first day j and, besides, I think to-morrow is Beauchamp's hunting day, and I long to shake him by the hand; for, between ourselves, Blanche, my love for Constance has arisen partly from my love and esteem for her brother, who is a man after my own heart." During the latter part of this speech, Blanche, feeling a little colour spreading over her cheek, turned away, and ran up- stairs to change her dress. The next day, while Lord Malcolm was sitting with Mrs. Harcourt and Blanche in the drawing-room, Lord Vancourt was announced, who remained for nearly an hour, paying very jDointed attention to Miss Douglas. When he left, Mrs. Har- court asked Malcolm — " What do you think of Lord Yancourt ? Is he not most polished and agreeable, and strikingly handsome ? " *' All that I admit, yet I don't like him." "Why?" inquired Mrs. Harcourt. " I can't say exactly, but he has an expression to me quite repulsive, and from which I should set him down as haughty and bad-tempered." " Oh, that is only your fancy, Malcolm." " Perhaps so, but I shall not alter my opinion until I know more of him." No further remarks were made by Mrs. Harcourt, who did not wish Blanche to be prejudiced against Lord Vancourt, in case her cousin should not now come forward, as was expected. But when Blanche and Malcolm went out afterwards for a walk, the latter remarked upon his lordship's attentions to her, and said — BEAUCHAMP "OUT OP SORTS." 105 " I perceive Lord Yancourfc is a great admirer of yours, my fair cousin, and first favourite on the list, I should think, from your tell-tale blushes and downcast eyes, when he was addressing you." " Indeed, Charles, he is no favourite of mine ; and although extremely pleasing, yet I feel quite frightened in his company." " Oh, that feeling may wear off on more intimate acquaint- ance," rejoined Malcolm ; "but first impressions with me are not easily effaced ; and I tell you candidly, dear Blanche, I fear he will make a bad husband ; so don't decide in his favour until you have seen more of the world, and a great deal more of Lord Yaii court. You will have plenty to pick and choose from, with your large fortune j so take my advice — don't be in a hurry to m.arry yet." "Indeed I shall not, Charles; and I am quite sure Lord Yancourt would never be my choice." " Yery well, Blanche, wait till next spring, when you come out in town, and I will introduce you to two or three of our young nobility, equally good-looking, with better connections than Lord Yancoirrt, and really good fellows into the bargain." At breakfast, next morning, Malcolm expressed his intention of taking Blanche with him to call at Bampton, to which no objection was raised, as Mrs. Harcourt wished to throw no obstacles in the way of the two cousins being together. Lord Malcolm was rejoiced to find his friend Beauchamp at home, and the meeting between his lordship and Constance was what might be expected from two affianced lovers, in which relation they stood to each other, although it was not generally known. Leaving the two girls together, Beauchamp and his friend, who was very fond of hu nting, walked off to inspect the kennels and stables, and Lord JMalcolm could not help remarking on Beau- chamji's altered manner and grave looks. "What's the matter with you?" inquired his friend ; "all jour buoyancy of spirits is gone ; are you in love, Beauchamp, or what is it ?" " Oh, I'm only a little out of sorts to-day." " Come, come, Beauchamp, that will not pass with me — I know you too well ; surely you can trust your own brother elect with anything that lies heavy at your heart. Many a secret have I confided to your keeping, and now, my dear fellow, I expect the same confidence from you. No evasion, if you love jne as I do you." Beauchamp, thus pressed, confessed his long-growing attacli- 106 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. ment to Blanche, and reproached himself for having made her acquainted with his love at Mrs. Compton's ball. "That has hung hea\'y upon me ever since," he added ; "for I feel I have done wrong in trying to gain her affections before entering on the world, when she will, of course, see so many, far my supe- riors in birth, endowments, and fortune. In short, Malcolm, I have no pretensions to one so far beyond my deserts ; and then the idea of being called a fortune-hunter haunts me day and night. I have become miserable ; what to do, I know not ; will you advise me ?" " Yes, Beauchamp, most willingly, when you have answered me one question. Were Blanche Douglas no heiress, would you lay open your heart to her ?" " Yes, IMalcolm, for I am sure I can never love another ; yet I would still leave her disengaged to me for a twelvemonth." "Why so?" " Because I think she is too young to be tied to any such serious engagement, until she has seen more of the world." " Ah ! " said Lord Malcolm, " this is self-denial to excess, and few, except Will Beauchamp, could argue thus against themselves. Well, I will consider these points to-night, and advise you how to act to-morrow ; and now let us have some luncheon, after which you and Constance must ride part of the ■way home with us." Beauchamp raising some objection to this proposal, was met by Malcolm with these words — " Don't make a greater simpleton of yourself than you have already this morning, in making these silly confessions, or I shall lose all my patience ! Come along directly, and order the horses, for I want an opportunity of making love to Constance, if you do not to Blanche." After luncheon, the party set out for Throseby, but as the road admitted of two only abreast, it is superfluous to say how the two couples were arranged. Lord Malcolm was in high spirits — un[)leasantly so to Beauchamp, who, being completely under the influence of the blues, exliibited a sad co-ntrast to his more happy friend ; and as he rode thoughtful and abstracted by the side of Blanche, she could not fail to notice his altered looks and manner ; still he was, as usual, most friendly, giving her some useful hints in regard iso the management of her horse, and speaking on all other subjects excei)t the one nearest to his heart. At first, Blanche was timid, and fearful of a repetition of some love professions ; but seeing his determination to avoid bU s?ich topics, her reserve wore off. SMALL-TALK- 107 "I hear," he said, "you have been staying at Marston Castle; were you pleased with your visit?" " Oh, no," she replied ; " Lord and Lady Mervyn are, in my opinion, very stiff, formal, disagreeable people." "Did you meet no pleasant persons there?" he inquired; "I heard the house was full of company." " Yes, there was a Lord Vaucourt, very agreeable and good- looking, resembling much in manners Mr. Vernon, who was there also ; but I must confess I was delighted when our visit was over." " Then you did not admire this Lord Vancourt, of whom report speaks so highly as a perfect ladies' man ?" "Oh, no," replied Blanche; "he is the counterpart of Mr. Vernon, whom, you know, I dislike exceedingly." Beauchamp breathed more freely after this confession from Blanche, and some of his usual frank gaiety of looks and man- ners returned. " You, of course, mean to attend our grand ball on the last of this month V he asked. "Oh, yes," she replied; "you know I make my debut in public on that occasion." " Then will you allow me the pleasure of being your first partner on that eventful night, unless you have already pro- mised that favour to another?" " Indeed, William, I shall not only be delighted, but shall feel less nervous, in having the support of an old friend on my first introduction to the beau monde.'^ " Thank you, dear Blanche," he replied, with his accustomed warmth ; " and may you never find a friend less staunch and true than William Beauchamp." " I neither wish nor expect to find another friend like you ; but now 1 see Constance and Charles are halting for us." "Well, Beauchamp," he exclaimed, as they rode up, "we must now change partners, as Constance wishes to return ; but mind you both ride over, and repay our visit the day after to- morrow." "I can't promise that exactly," was Beauchamp*s answer, in a very grave tone. " Oh, indeed ! then Constance must ride by herself, I sup- pose," retorted Malcolm, angrily, "unless you think she ought not to have ])romised me to come at all ?" " No, Malcolm ; I shall certainly accompany her. if that is so.* " And be in a better humour next time we meet," continued 108 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. Malcolm* *' But now, come, shake hands, old fellow ; I can't afford to quarrel with you." The friendly parting was exchanged on all sides, when Malcolm and Blanche turned their horses' heads, the former suddenly exclaiming, "What can be the matter with Will Beauchamp, Blanche ? I never saw such an alteration in any man since we last met ; he looks as if he had been crossed in love. Wliat can be the matter with him ? '* " I really cannot tell, Charles." " Do you think he is in love, Blanche ? " he again asked. " How should I know, Charles ? " she answered, while the crimson mounted to her very temples. " You do know something more than you choose to tell me, dear Blanche," as he looked inquiringly into her face, which she endeavoured to turn away, to conceal her confusion. " Only tell me one thing, my dearest girl," continued Malcolm, as he placed his hand affectionately on hers ; " by our friendship and cousinly affection for each other, by my brotherly love for you, tell me, dear Blanche, in confideuce, as your own dear brother — can you, do you love Will Beauchamp 1 " There was no reply. " Thank Heaven !" ejaculated Malcolm, fervently; "I am now the happiest man in existence. Will Beauchamp's conduct is explained ; he loves, as he ever must, deeply and unalterably where his affections have been once bestowed; but, poor fellow ! he thinks he loves hopelessly — he is too unpretending and modest to believe that the rich heiress, Miss Douglas, will ever condescend to accept him as a lover. Yes, dear Blanche ; this must be the real state of the case. I have known Beauchamp from a boy ; he is high-spirited, of sound principles, honest and open as the day, and generous, even to a fault ; yet withal as proud as Lucifer, where his conduct may be questioned as equivocal ; and here it is — here's the rub, my dear Blanche- he dreads to be called a fortune-hunter, although ever so attached to you." At this moment they were interrupted by Mark Rosier jumping over a stile into the road, close to Lord Malcolm. *' Ah, Mark," said his lordship, "how fares it with you since we last met 1 " " It would have fared badly enough, my lord, but for the young squire, who saved my poor old father and mother from the workhouse," " Indeed, Mark," said Lord Malcolm, seriously ; " how could tjiis happsn V COMING TO THE VOT^, 109 " Lord Mervyn there turned us all out into the road, and seized everything we had, even to the bed to lie upon, and all on account of the game, which has been our ruin ; but the young squire stood our friend, and has given us a farm from Lady-day next, rent free, stock and all, until we can get round again. God bless him for it, and all belonging to him !" ended Mark, as he wiped a stray tear from his cheek. " Here, then, Mark," said his lordship, putting a five-pound note into his hand, " give that to your father from me, to keep a meny Christmas j" and, touching his horse with the whip, he and Blanche cantered off. " There, Blanche," he said, when they had left Mark behind, " that act at once explains the character of "William Beauchamp; and now I expect a lecture from Mrs. Harcourt for keeping you out late," as they entered the lodge gates. CHAPTER XI. BuKiNG the absence of Lord Malcolm and her niece, Mrs. Harcourt had been discussing his lordship rather more perti- nently than he surmised ; in short, she had insisted on Mr. Harcourt inquiring what his real intentions were towards his cousin. " It is really high time to know whether Malcolm seriously thinks of marrying Blanche or not," she remarked to her husband, " as it is very evident Lord Yancourt is very much taken with her j and, in case of his proposing, we should scarcely know what answer to give him." " Yery well, my dear, I will take an opportunity of sounding Malcolm the first time we are alone, although I am inclined to think, from my own observation, theirs may be only cousinly affection; but as the family from the castle dines here to- morrow, I will ascertain that point before their arrival, and let you know." Accordingly, the next morning, after breakfast, when they were alone, Mr. Harcourt led to the point by asking some questions relative to Blanche's property in Scotland. ^' It is in a very flourishing condition," replied Lord Malcolm ; " and the tenants are improving their farms by draining, which will increase their own returns, as well as improve the value of the estate." 110 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Is there any prospect," inquired Mr. Harcourt, jocosely, " of the two properties being united under one head ?" " One manager, do you mean 1 " " Yes, Charles ; exactly so — in the person of Lord Malcolm," replied Mr. Harcourt, laughing. " That," replied Lord Malcolm, gravely, " I fear, never can be, as Blanche and myself regard each other as cousins only; and, to confess the truth, my affections have been long engaged elsewhere, although I shall ever love her as a dear sister." " I am sorry to hear this confession, Charles, as Blanche's father and your own always expressed a strong desire that their childr-en might some day be united." At this moment Blanche entered the room, prepared for a walk. " I fear," she said. " I am interrupting you and Mr. Harcourt." " Oh, no," replied Lord Malcolm ; " I am quite ready to attend you, dear Blanche." When they had left the house, Malcolm said, " It is just what I expected from old Harcourt' s serious looks at breakfast. He has been asking me whether you were likely to become Lady Malcolm, and of course I told him we loved each other as cousins only. But there is more manoeuvi'ing in this than you suspect, my fair cousin. Wliat should have induced old Harcourt to broach this subject so hastily and, I think, indeli- cately, when I had been only three days in his house ? The answer to me is plain enough : that ill-conditioned Mervyn, with his chum Vancourt, dines here to-day, and Harcourt wished to ascertain my sentiments, in case my Lord IMervyn should make any allusion to his friend coming forward for the heiress. That's the secret, my dear girl ; and, were it not for your sake, I feel so indignant at Harcoiirt's treatment, that I would leave his roof this very day." " Oh, pray, Charles, don't think of doing that ! " " No, Blanche ; I certainly will not for the next month, at least, although I know now he would be rejoiced to get rid of me ; but nothing shall induce me, my dear girl, to leave you to be tormented by these plotters ; and Harcourt shall rue the day he treated me with so little ceremony. But, for your sake, as I said before, I will smother my resentment, and pay him off in his own false coin." The same afternoon Beauchamp and his sister rode over to return Lord Malcolm and Blanche's visit; and, after sitting V , ». <- AN ILL-ASSORTED DINNER-PARTT. Ill some time with the ladies, the two friends sauntered out, at Malcolm's request, to see a new horse he had lately purchased. From the stables they took a stroll through the grounds, when Lord Malcolm told Beauchamp what had passed between him- self and Mr. Harcourt, and his discovery of Blanche's love for him. " And now, my dear fellow, I congratulate you with all my heart ; and it has made me one of the happiest of men to know that Blanche has bestowed her affections on him whom I would have selected from all the world to be her husband." " But, my dear Malcolm," Beauchamp was beginning, when he was cut short by his friend. " Not another word, Beauchamp. I know you and Blanche thoroughly, and your deep strong feelings ; you are both alike. Therefore, I insist on your proj)Osing to her, allowing a little scope for your romantic ideas of giving her a few months for consideration j but if at the end of that time you don't marry her — not supposing an impossibihty, that she will ever change, though you may — I give you fair notice, old fellow, that I will call you out, and shoot you, too, if I can, for breaking my dear cousin's heart. That is the result of my cogitations on this subject. Will Beauchamp, since we last parted at Bampton; and this is my advice, which, for both our happiness, I trust and believe you will adopt. Now let us return to the ladies, or old Harcourt will think we are plotting some mischief; but had I no other reason for wishing you to marry her, Blanche Douglas shall never be sold, like a sheep in the shambles, to the highest bidder, by that worldly-minded pair, under whose roof she has the misfortune to be living. Lucky, indeed, is it that I happened to arrive just at this critical moment, when poor Blanche's happiness might have been wrecked for ever ; withal, she is but a timid child, and requii'es a steady friend and strong arm to protect her, such as she ought to find in Will Beauchamp." " That she shall never want, whilst I live," he replied. " Thank you, Beauchamp ; you now speak like yourself manly and straightforward ; but no more at present, walls have ears — and laurels too," as they approached the house. A more heterogeneous party never met together than that selected by the Harcourts to grace their dinner-table that evening. Sir Lionel Markham differed on every subject with Lord Mervyn. Mr. Compton was decidedly as antagonistic tfl him in politics, and hated by his lordship for shelving twice the number of pheasants, with plenty of foxes also, and for 112 fHE PIASTER Of THE HOUNBS. being most popular in the county. Sir Lucius Gwynne and Mr. Yernon, whose dislike to each other was well known ; and Aunt Gordon, who (from sundry hints given her by Bob Conyers) felt disposed to quarrel with the whole castle party at first starting. The only person who laboured assiduously, though hope- lessly, to infuse some little harmony into this ill-assorted com- pany, was Selina Markham, who sat next to Lord Malcolm. Lord Vancourt was endeavouring to engross attention by a de- scription of his travels in Egypt and the Holy Land, and had been giving an account of the Pyramids, when Lord Malcolm, turning to Selina, said, " Ah ! those Pyramids remind me of the fate of a travelling companion who was standing with me on the top of one, when, being seized with sudden giddiness, he fell, and rolled from step to step, until he was dashed to pieces." " How very shocking ! " exclaimed Selina ; " what could you do ? " " Nothing ; he was gone in a moment, before I missed him from my side ; and feeling myself turning sick and giddy also, as I looked below, I threw myself down on my face, to prevent my sharing his untimely and wretched fate." Lord Yancourt was silent whilst Malcolm related this acci- dent, and did not afterwards deem it expedient to make many more allusions to his own adventures, finding another had been going over the same ground, who might probably catch him tripping. All felt relieved when the ladies rose from the table to leave the dining-room, but little more advancement towards conviviality followed after their departure among the gentle- men, who seemed resolved to keep at a respectful distance from each other. Lord Yancourt made two or three unsuccessful attempts to draw Malcolm into conversation, but his almost monosyllabic answers deterred him from indulging further hopes of being on good terms with his lordship, which he was most anxious to be, as living under the same roof with Miss Douglas, his friend Yernon having assured him there was no truth in the report that he was engaged to, or ever likely to marry, his cousin. Sir Lionel and Mr. Compton, sitting together, were the only two who had any community of feelings or ideas, and even they were delighted when cofiee was introduced, and a move made to joia the ladies. Lord Yancourt was resolved, if pos* VANCOimT FEELS HIS WAT. 113 sible, that evening, to find out how the case really Btood between Lord Malcolm and the heiress ; for which purpose, on entering the drawing-room, he attached himself to Mrs. Har- court, and soon after, observing Blanche in low and earnest conversation with her cousin, apart from the company, he re marked upon their being so much interested in each other's society, and said, in a low tone, " The report of their engage- ment seems fully confirmed, Mrs. Harcourt.'' " There is no engagement between them, my lord," replied that lady, ^'although both Mr. Harcourt and myself have long indulged such hopes, from their estates in Scotland joining each other, and also because we have the greatest regard for Lord Malcolm." " I should judge from appearances," said Lord Yancourt, ** that they were most unquestionably attached to each other." " Merely cousinly affection," was the answer. " Malcolm has expressed himself so unequivocally on the subject, that it admits of no doubt." A triumphant smile played for a moment over the features of Lord Yancourt at this announcement, but he immediately turned the conversation into another channel. Malcolm main- tained his position near Blanche the whole evening, accom- panying her to the piano (when requested by Mi\s. Harcourt to sing), and Lord Yancourt, perceiving his intention to prevent his advances that night, prudently gave way, and consoled him- self with Mrs. Harcourt's society, in whose good opinion he had already made rapid progress. The common topic of conversation was the annual ball which was to take place at Cherrington on the thirty-first of the month, now quickly approaching. " I shall certainly attend that ball," said Mrs. Gordon, who had now joined Blanche and Malcolm, "to witness your intro- duction to the world, my dear girl ; and you will find me always ready to act as your chaperon, as Mrs. Harcourt, I dare say, will be engaged with her numerous friends." "I am so happy to hear you will be there, dear aunt," replied Blanche, " as your presence will give me confidence on this trying occasion." "Not that you will see much more of your aunt," said Malcolm, laughing, " than if she were at the Priory ; for, rest assured, your numerous admirers will engage the heii'ess for every dance." "§^ ahall not dance more than she likes," replied Mrs, H 114 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. Gordon ; " and, when fatigued, she will find a seat by my side." " By-the-bye, Blanche," said Malcolm, " I must claim the privilege of trotting out my fair cousin on that auspicious occa- sion, by dancing the first dance with her, as in duty bound." Blanche blushed deeply, and not repl}dng, her cousin said, ♦* Then you decline my handsome offer, eh, Blanche ? " " Mr. Beauchamp asked me the other day for the first, but I shall be most happy to dance with you the second." "Well, dear girl, that will do equally well, and Constance shall be my first partner, so that point is settled beforehand, and you shall be our vis-d-vis with Will Beauchamp : there, aunt, that will do nicely, and of course all eyes will be directed towards the two handsomest couples in the room. Don't you think, aunt, I am an uncommonly smart, good-looking fellow, just as described in the old ballad 1 — ' He's as tall and as straight as a poplar tree, And his cheeks are as red as the rose ; And he looks like a squire of high degree, When dressed in his Sunday's clothes ! ' " " My dear Cliarles," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, " how can you quote such trash ? you are a very boy still." " Yes, aunty dear, and I hope to continue so for some few years to come, until arrived at years of discretion, when I suppose I shall exclaim ' Life's a farce, and all things show it ; I thought so once, but now I know it.' Well, thank goodness, the castle party are on the wing, and I wish them joy of their drive home, with that vicious old Mervyn boxed up with them, who is like a mad dog when things don't suit him, snapping at every one in his way. That poor girl of his must lead a happy life with such parents." " Hiish, Cliarles, they are coming towards us." "To shake hands with Blanche, I suppose," whispered Malcolm, " and try to get her over to the castle again." Lady JMervyn, who was leaning on Lord Van court's arm, extended her hand most graciously to Blanche, who rose as they approached, and his lordship was about to make her a similar offer of friendly greeting, which with a curtsey she declined, and resumed her seat, soon after which all the other guests took leave. A frost now set in, which put a stop to hunting, and Lord A SECRET EEVEALED. 115 Malcolm, as was natural to suppose, rode over frequently to Bampton, sometimes taking Blanche with him. On their return one afternoon, when Blanche had left the room, Mrs. Harcourt expressed her disapprobation of her niece accompany- ing him so often to Bamjiton. " On what account, Mrs. Harcourt, do you object to her visiting there 1 Constance and Blanche have always been like sisters since childhood." " They are no longer children ; and I wish my niece to make some higher acquaintances now, with persons moving in that spliere to which I hope to see her soon elevated." " Oh, indeed ! that is joiiv reason, is it, Mrs. Harcourt 1 Then allow me to observe, tliat I do not think Blanche Douglas will be ever in such a position as to feel degraded by or ashamed of the society of Lady Malcolm." " I do not understand you, Charles." "Very likely, but when I state my hopes that Constance Beauchamp will ere long become my wife, my meaning is explicit enough." " Are you really serious. Lord Malcolm ? " " Never more so. Mr. Beauchamp, after a good deal of opposition, gave his consent to our marriage, but only on the condition that we spend half the year at Bampton during his life." " In place of giving his daughter any fortune, I suppose 1" rejDlied Mrs. Harcourt, with a sneer. " No, not exactly that, either, my dear madam, as, the day I marry his daughter, he transfers into my name thirty thousand pounds, which he showed by his banker's books are now in the funds." "Beally, Malcolm, I did not think Mr. Beauchamp had any money at all there, as people say he is very poor." " People say what they wish others to believe, out of spite, envy, or malice," replied Malcolm ; " but as / am satisfied, that is quite sufficient." " Oh, of course," rejoined Mrs. Harcourt ; " but since / do not intend Blanche to marry a Beauchamp, I shall be obliged by your not taking her to Bampton again." " "William Beauchamp," said Malcolm, " is of as high and good connections, and of a prouder spirit than yourself, and you may rest assured will never obtrude himself into any family where he does not meet a welcome reception ; " with which he rose^ and left the room. H 2 116 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. Lord Yancourt had called twice whilst Blanche was out riding with her cousin, which annoyed Mrs. Harcourt, and she resolved, therefore, for the future, to keep her more at home, in the hope of his lordship proj)osing, as botL Mr. Harcourt and herself were so pleased with him, and assured by Lord Mer-v'yn of his large fortune also, that they had made up their minds to accept his proposal for their niece ; and Mrs. Harcourt, dreading lest Malcolm might influence his cousin in favour of Beauchamp, thought the sooner the thing could be settled the better. The next day, when Malcolm was out shooting, Lord Vancourt, under the pretence of inviting him to a shooting- party at the castle (which he knew very well he would not accept), called again at Throseby, and found the ladies at home ; and after sitting some time, Mrs. Harcourt rose, under the excuse of having mislaid her handkerchief, leaving poor Blanche alone with her imwelcome admirer. Her embarrassment and varying colour having impressed his lordship with the belief of his having inspired her with an interest in his favour, he began at first speaking of the ball, to lead her on, expressing a hope that she would honour him with her hand in the first dance. " For that I am engaged," she replied. " The second, then, Miss Douglas ? " The same answer, at which my lord bit his lip, and fire flashed from his dark, piercing eye, which did not escape Blanche's notice. " May I plead, then, for the next. Miss Douglas 1 in which I hope for better success." " I do not recollect that I am engaged for that, and shall be hajDpy to dance with you, provided it is a quadrille, as I do not waltz." " I must, of course, submit to your own terms," remarked his lordship ; "and among so many advocates for your hand, I consider m3^self highly honoured by your accepting me for your partner ; " and he was proceeding in a strain of flattery and adulation, every moment becoming more irksome to poor Blanche, when Lord Malcolm entered the room, and she instantly hurried up-stairs. To account for his lordship's un- expected entrance, we must explain, that having gone out shooting that morning, and posted himself on the outside of a small gorse covert on the hill above the house, his attention was attracted by a horse galloping on the hard gravel road, and looking down, he beheld Lord Yancourt rapidly riding up to THE HEIRESS AT THE BALL. 117 the door. Telling the keeper to go on beating until his return, he ran down the hill, and arrived in time to prevent the eclaircissenient that Lord Vancoiirt purposed making to his cousin. His annoyance at finding Blanche had been left alone by Mrs. Harcourt did not tend to improve his ill-humour ; and having politely declined Lord Mervyn's invitation, Lord Vancourt rose and left the room, his horse and groom being at the door. The evening of the ball had now arrived, and about ten o'clock the heiress made her first appearance in public, leaning on Mrs. Harcourt's arm, who stalked majestically into the ball- room with the air of the highest personage in the land. Blanche was dressed in white, with an elegance and simplicity which did justice to her beauty as well as her taste ; and with her graceful figure and sweet, artless expression of countenance, looked the personification of loveliness. William Beauchamp, having purposely arrived early, was waiting with Constance near the door, and accosted them, on their entrance, with his usual frankness of manner; and wliilst his sister was speaking to Mrs. Harcourt, re-engaged Blanche for the first dance. Mrs. Harcourt, although overhearing her niece's assent to Beauchamp's request, said she wished to take a survey of the company before dancing commenced (for the purpose, secretly, of parading her charge, and preventing, if possible, her accept- ing Beauchamp's arm for the first quadrille) ; and with this view, kept her talking to some acquaintances at the top of the room until the sets were formed, notwithstanding Beauchamp's hints that they must now take their places, to which Mrs. Harcourt turned a deaf ear, and persisted in retaining a tight hold of her niece's arm. " Aunt Harcourt," whispered the poor girl, timidly, " I am engaged to Mr. Beauchamp for the first dance, and he is waiting." " Oh, it does not signify, my dear j you can dance the second with him, as I wish to introduce you to Lord and Lady Seaton, who, I see, have just arrived." " But I am engaged to Charles for the second," whispered Blanche. " Well, my dear, it cannot be helped, as I really must pre- sent you to some of my particular friends fii'st ; there will be ample time for dancing afterwards." Beauchamp, however, would not be thrown off by these manoeuvres, and doggedly following Mrs. Harcourt, that lady, 118 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. now tliinking she had deprived him of his dance, at last resigned her niece's arm. As Beauchamp walked away with her, he said, rather indignantly — " Mrs. Harcourt has purposely prevented me enjoying this dance with you, dear Blanche. I will not be disappointed, however, in the next ; we are too late now to join in this set, which, if I could, I would not." " But I have promised Charles the second." " Oh, never mind ; he will give that to me when he hears how badly I have been treated — that is, unless you v/ould prefer dancing mth him." " Oh, no," she replied, " if Charles will not be offended." " Now then, Blanche, I see Aunt Gordon looking towards us. AVe must go and speak to her." Her surprise at seeing Blanche walking about, instead of dancing, was increased to indignation when told by Beauchamp of Mrs. Harcourt's behaviour. *' Sit down here, my love, and I will be your chaperon for the rest of the evening." " I must leave her a moment with you, dear aunt," said Beauchamp, " whilst I speak a few words with Malcolm ; " after which he immediately returned, and sat down by Blanche, telling her Malcolm had kindly waived his claim to her hand for the next dance. They were joined by Constance and her partner soon after, when Malcolm said she must now dance the third with him. "I am sorry to say, Charles, I am engaged for that to Loid Vancourt." " Oh, indeed ! " said Malcolm, whilst his brow contracted with anger ; " then the fourth, Blanche ? " "Yes, Charles, with pleasure." " How provoking," said Malcolm to Constance, " that we cannot have a dance together with Blanche and Beauchamp ; but I won't be done in this manner, so you must stand u^) with me again, Constance, as their vis-ct-vis" " Oh," said Constance, laughing, " it is not etiquette, Charles, to dance two quadiilles in succession with the same person." " Nonsense about etiquette, Constance ! will you refuse me for form's sake ? " " Certainly not, if you particularly wish it." " That I do, dear girl, and mind we all four join again in the last dance. Do you agree to this, Blanche 1 " he inquired. A "little stratagem." 119 ** If Mrs. Harcourt will not be angry at my dancing twice with WilUam." " You are no longer a child," replied Malcolm, " to be tied to Mrs. Harcourt's apron-strings, and have a right now to please yourself; but what says Aunt Gordon, whose ideas on such subjects are quite as correct as Mrs. Harcourt's ? " " I see no impropriety in such arrangement if Blanche has no other objection." " None whatever, dear aunt ; and I shall be delighted to join Charles and Constance in the last dance of the evening." " Thank you, dear Blanche," whispered Beauchamp, " and now we must take our places." Many scrutinising and invidious glances were directed to- wards the heiress and her partner as they glided gracefully through the figure, too much pleased in each other's company to bestow a thouglit or care for the lookers-on. Lord Yancourt remarked to Yernon — " You have underrated him." " Not much, I think," was the reply. " Decidedly, Yernon, he is very gentlemanly in manners, good-looking, and altogether the sort of man any young girl would fall desperately in love with ; in short, I must be quick ; and even nov/, from v/hat I see, my impression is that I am too late in the field." " You have two to one on your side, my lord, and Beau- champ has no more chance than I have." " He has a bold, determined look," replied Yancourt, "just that of a man who will not stick at trifles when he has a point to gain." *' That girl won't run away with any man," said Yernon, " although she may be carried away. Do you take, my lord ] and with the consent of her guardian, which is the same thing, supposing the young lady rather coy to yourself, I should not hesitate one moment." " That is a very serious affair, Yernon." " Not in your case, my lord. Make your proposal first to her guardian — if accepted, you are all right ; and I am quite sure they will both press your offer upon their ward, for fear of Beauchamp. This, of course, you ^vill find out from v/liat Har- court says in reply to your proposal ; and if she refuses you can fairly plead their consent, and your deep, passionate, uncontroll- able love for the young lady, which induced you to have recourse to a little stratagem. That's all, my lord, and you v>^.ili never hear another word on the subject after the heiress has become 120 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. Lady Yancourt. Why, in Scotland, the thing is settled in five minutes by the blacksmith — bribe him well, and he will get two other persons to say they heard her say she would take vou for her husband, and of course you will say you took her for your wife, and there's an end to the business. You will then be man and wife, and if she should run away from you afterwards (which I don't think likely), her money is safe at any rate." " Keally, Vernon, you are up to a thing or two, and argue very plausibly ; but I must consider well before I undertake such a project, although it appears feasible enough. Now the quadrille's over, I shall claim her hand, and try what impression I can make first." This conversation had been carried on in a low tone by Lord Vancourt and Vernon, who were- standing apart near a window ; and their attention was so much engrossed by watch- ing the heiress and Beauchamp dancing, that they did not per- ceive Bob Conyers, who sat ensconced in a seat behind the window-curtains, and who therefore heard sufficient to apprise him of their intentions. " Ha ! ha ! " thought Bob, " a rascally trick, my lord and Mr. Vernon, between you ! but I'll put Beauchamp and Mal- colm up to the dodge, and Aunt Gordon, too, before this time to-morrow night.'* As Beauchamp, after the quadrille, was making his way with Blanche to where Mrs. Gordon was sitting, Lord Vancourt presented himself before her, saying she had promised him the honour of her hand for the next dance, and offered his arm, which Blanche, not knowing the rules on such occasions, was hesitating whether to accept or not, when Beauchamp said quickly to her — " I must consign you first to your aunt, as a waltz succeeds this quadrille, in which you do not join." " I shall not brook your interference, sir," said Vancourt, haughtily. " Nor I yours. Lord Vancourt," retorted Beauchamp, as, drawing himself up, he resolutely passed on. "William," said Blanche, earnestly looking in his face, and pressing her hand upon his arm, " I hope you will not quarrel with Lord Vancourt." " No, dear Blanche, if possible to avoid it ; but you shall iiot be imposed upon or insulted by any human being." " Oh, he did not intend that, I hope," said Blanche. " There was an impertinence in his manner, by stopping you when leaning on my arm, and knowing well he had no WHAT A GAilE OF FIVES IS. 121 right then to interrupt us or claim your hand, which I could not submit to." " But, William, promise me it shall go no nirther — promise me not to quarrel with him — for my sake, William, will you do this ? " she inquired, beseechingly, as he seemed to hesitate. " Yes, dearest Blanche," in a low tone, " for your dear sake will I do anything." " Thank you," she replied, with one of her sweet smiles, " and remember, if you forget your promise, you will make me wretched," as she relinquished his arm, and sat down by her aunt. " Why, Beauchamp," said Lord Malcolm, who had been following close behind him, " that hot-headed Ii'ish lord seemed disposed to pick a quarrel with you, did he not 1 " "I rather suspected something of the kind from Vernon's tutoring, as I saw those worthies in deep consultation together whilst we were dancing, and casting ominous looks towards me ; and but for dear Blanche, I would have knocked that insolent lord across the room for daring to stand in her way." " Egad, I believe you, Beauchamp," replied Malcolm ; " but it won't do to talk of these things now." " No, no, it is all over and past, and, as I have promised Mrs. Gordon never to fight a duel, we must say no more about it." " William," said jMrs. Gordon, " you know your promise, and the penalty of breaking it 1 " " Indeed I do, dear aunt, which I will never incur ; and therefore, Malcolm," said Beauchamp, laughing, " I am restricted to a game of fives or cudgels, with the choice of which I will favour any man who purposely insults me." "And I for one," added Malcolm, jocosely, "would not be in the skin of your opponent, in a ten-foot ling, for a hundred pounds, although we Scots are known to be unco fond of the siUer." " What does a game of fives mean, William ? " inquired Blanche. " This," said Beauchamp, good-humouredly, placing his clenched hand in hers ; '• four fingers and a thumb make a bunch of five or a fist, which is man's natural weapon of defence ; but don't be alarmed, dear Blanche," he said, lower- ing his voice. " / will promise not to fight, if you will promise not to flirt with him, or let him make love to you." " That he shall not do, if I can prevent it, William, rest assui-ed." 122 THE 5LA.STER OF THE HOUNDS. Lord "Vancoiirt now advanced, with a very profound bow, and Blanche rose reluctantly to take his arm, casting a lingering look behind (as she was led away), implying, " Don't you pity me 1 " Beauchamp felt that appeal, and instantly followed her, with Bob Conyers, who just then came up, and both stood be- hind her, whilst she was dancing with Lord Yancourt; and when disengaged occasionally in the dance, Beauchamp spoke a few words of encouragement. Lord Yancourt was nettled at this interference, and bestowed a look full of malignity on Beauchamp, who returned his glance with a steady, unflinching gaze, which somewhat disconcerting his lordship, prevented an effusion of those soft speeches he had proposed for the occasion. To add more to his discomfort, also. Captain Melville now joined Conyers, and kept his eye steadily fixed on his lordship's movements. Of all in that room Lord Yancourt dreaded Melville, who was acquainted with his pecca- dilloes, and having heard him engage Miss Douglas for the next dance, feared he would enlighten her on his real position, so that he felt so ill at ease as to prove ajsything but agreeable to his fair partner. The dance being concluded, Yancourt immediately led her to Mrs. Harcourt, where he thought Beauchamp or Conyers could not follow ; and being offered a seat by that lady, he sat down by Blanche, hoping to prevent her dancing with Mel- ville. But the captain, guessing his purpose, immediately ap- proached, notwithstanding my lord's forbidding aspect, and offered his arm, which, glad to escape from her tormentor, she readily accepted. On walking away, Melville asked Blanche if she had known Lord Yancourt long. " No," was the reply ; " I was introduced to him a short time since only^ at Lord Mervyn's, when you dined there." " What do you think of him 1 " he asked, rather abruptly. " Yery agreeable and entertaining," was the reply. " Yes, all that. Miss Douglas, a finished courtier. But he is well known as the worst-tempered man, and the greatest rake about town." '' Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt have a very high opinion of him," replied Blanche. " Because they know nothing of his real disposition or character ; but when I tell you. Miss Douglas, that I declined his lordship's introduction to my ov/n sister, you may su2:)pose I A CHANGE OF TACTICS. 123 had some good reason for this refusal. More than that, it is unnecessary for me to add." Melville then changed the subject ; and, being witty, pleasing, and friendly in his address, Blanche soon felt more at ease with him than with any stranger she had yet been intro- duced to. Her natural reserve gradually wore oif ; and she looked so pleased and happy from the music and excitement of dancing, that JMelville presumed on her evident favourable feeliug towards himself to ask for a second dance. "That, I fear, is impossible, Captain Melville, as I am already engaged to more partners, than, I believe, there will be dances." "I feared as much," he replied; "but ajn not the least surprised to find such is the case, although I must express my great 'lisappointment ; and, with many thanks for the most delightful dance it has ever been my good fortune to enjoy, I must now most reluctantly resign you to Mrs. Harcourt ajgain." " Oh, no," she said, " not to her. My aunt Gordon is ex- pecting me on the other side of the room." " Will you be kind enough to introduce me to her ? " he asked. " With pleasure," replied Blanche, " for I am sure you will like her." The introduction being made, Melville remained talking to Mrs. Gordon until Markham approached to claim Miss Douglas, to whom he was engaged. Lord Vancourt had been watching Blanche's pleased expression of countenance when dancing with Captain Melville, and wreaked his vengeance by base in- sinuations against his character, which Mrs. Harcourt readily believed, and the more so, because he was represented as pos- sessing nothing in the world but his pay. But Vancourt determined in his own mind that moments were now of precious importance to himself; and that he must win as much favour as possible with Mrs. Harcourt, who was his chief supporter ; and he played his part accordingly, being with her the greatest part of the evening, handing her into the supper-room, and paying her every possible attention, which gratified her vanity to the greatest possible degree. William Beauchamp, being a great favourite with the young ladies, contrived to join in almost every set with his beloved Blanche, and sat next to her and Mrs. Gordon at the supper- table, with Lord Malcolm and Constance opposite ; so that they 124 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. thoroughly enjoyed this little respite from their almost iacessaiit exertions. " Blanche," said Malcolm, " you looked fagged and tired to death already ; and I hope Aunt Gordon will not allow you to dance any more to-night." "Oh, nonsense, Charles, I shall be as fresh as ever after supper ; and I have enjoyed this ball so much." "Very well, child, as you please; but mind, Beauchamp, you take care of her, and give her half a bottle of champagne, for she looks like a ghost." No hint of this sort was necessary, and Beauchamp had the pleasure of seeing the roses return to her cheeks on again entering the ball-room, where they were met by Lord Yan- court and Mrs. Harcourt, who expressed herself much displeased with her niece for having deserted her protection that evening. Blanche quietly replied that she had been sitting with her aunt Gordon during the intervals between the dances. " Yery well, my dear, then I expect you will remain with me now until the ball is over ; " and offering her arm, Blanche was obliged to accept it. Lord Yancourt then begged for another dance, to which Blanche replied that she was engaged to Major Hammond, a friend of Captain Melville's. " I don't know him," observed Mrs. Harcourt, "and as he is not here, now the sets are formed, you cannot refuse Lord Yancourt ; " who immediately offered his arm, and walked off with her. Her dancing tv/ice with him did not fail to elicit the usual comments, which Mrs. Harcourt was delighted to hear ; and Blanche's timid looks and heightened colour, when addressed by his lordship, led many to draw inferences, the reverse of true, that Lord Yancourt was the favoured man ; and sure, with his title and handsome person, to carry off the heiress. " Ah," said Selina Markham, who was dancing with Beau- champ in the same set, " it is really a reflection upon all the young men in the country, to allow that whiskei'ando lord to pounce down, like a great over-grown kite amongst a timid flock of pigeons, and carry off our young heiress ! What are they all thinking of? Even my brother Ned, the lifeguards- man, seems to quail beneath his look, and keejDS saying, *Eh, demmit, but what can a man do ? ' ' Do ? ' I said, ' why, demmit, Ned, pick a quarrel and shoot the fellow ; or lend me the uniform, and I will do it for you.' Poor dear Blanche! with those odious Harcourts, she will be sacrificed, poor child, to that fierce-looking, rat-eyed Bonassus." SATTNEYS AITD SPOONEYS. 125 *'Husli, Selina," said Beauchamp, "he will overhear you." "So much the better," replied the wayward, high-spirited gii'l j " I hate him equally with Yernon, who is his gi-eat ally." " "Who is that forward, pert young lady dancing with Mr. Beauchamp ? " inquired Lord Yancourt, who overheai'd some of her remarks. " Miss Markham," replied Blanche. "Who is that hook-nosed, monkey -legged fellow dancing with Miss Douglas 1 " asked Selina, in return, loud enough for him to hear. " Lord Yancourt,*' whispered Beauchamp. " But pray, Selina^ do not be so loud in your remarks." "Eh! aw! Lord Vain-court; think he's well named — as Ned says, he has been j)aying court to every young heiress that has come out in town for the last five seasons, and cannot succeed ; so now he has come down to try the pro\dnces, eh ? 'Pon lionour, very condescending, indeed ! with my Lord Mervyn for his bear-leader ! " " Keally, Selina, if you run on in this strain, I must leave you to finish the dance by yourself." "Yery well. Will Beauchamp, a good riddance of bad company ; for, what with sawneys and spooneys, the young ladies in this neighbourhood have a delightful choice of husbands ! " " In which class, pray, have I the honour of being included ? " "In the first," replied Selina; "you are a decided sawney^ Will Beauchamp, and a spooney, too," she whispered, "if you allow that fellow to carry ofi" Blanche." "Well, Selina, don't be too severe upon a quiet, inofiensive young man, like myself," said Beauchamp, laughing. " You are an arrant donkey. Will, I am sony to say ; I have no patience with you. You can look hard at your fences, but dare not look a pretty girl in the face." " Well, Selina, as that is my failing, I must put on a little more brass for the future ; and now, with many thanks for year hint, I must make my bow to my fair lecturer." The more pleasantly time passes, the more quickly it flefets away ; and the ball was now brought to a close by the usv^al country dance, in which, as agreed upon. Lord Malcolm, Con- stance, Beauchamp, and Blanche joined; after which, notwirjli- standing a little impatience exhibited by Mrs. Harcourt, l^ir young fox-hunter persisted in cloaking and handing his .2itr partner to the cprriage. 126 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. CHAPTER XII. The following morniug, Lords Merv^'^n and Yaii court, with Vernon, held a consultation on the state of affairs ; and it waa determined that Yancourt should write a proposal to Mr. Har- court, the next day, for his ward. " I think it would be best to call at Throseby," obsei-ved Lord Yancourt. " No," said Yernon, " that will not answer the same purpose as writing — litera scrijyta inatiet. Get Harcourt to give his consent on black and white, and then you are safe for any contingency." " You are quite right, Yernon," said Lord Mervyn, ** and a capital adviser in such matters." Accordingly, the next day, about the hour of luncheon, a servant was sent over on horseback from the castle, with the proposal in due form, and worded after the most approved fashion, with the usual protestations of love and devotion to the young lady. Mr. Harcourt was in the dining-room with Blanche, Mrs. Harcourt, and Malcolm, when the letter was delivered to him ; and having glanced over the contents, he put it -into his pocket. " My lord's servant is waiting for an answer, sir," said the footman. "An answer shall be sent this afternoon," was the reply. No further comment was made on the contents of the letter until after luncheon, when Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt retired to their own private sitting-room to deliberate. "I think, my dear," said the gentleman (after they had decided to accept his lordship's offer), " you are the most pro^Der person to speak to Blanche on this subject, and of course can explain our wishes much better than I can — pointing out the many advantages, in point of title and connection, and pressing Blanche not to refuse so flattering a proposal." " Indeed," replied the lady, " I cannot think my niece will act so contrary to our advice and her own interests as to refuse Lord Yancourt." No sooner had Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt left the dining-room than Blanche, with the foreboding of evil, the influence of which no mortal can either explain or escape, turning to her cousin, said, " I wonder, CJiarles, what that letter from Lord Yancourt contains 1 " A PROPOSAL AKD ITS RECEPTION. 127 " A proposal for your hand, dear girl — tliat is my impres- fiion." " Oh, Charles," exclaimed the poor girl, almost in tears, and turning deadly pale, " what can I say ? " " Say ! my dear Blanche, what you think you ought to say." " Oh, indeed, Charles ! I never could accept such a man." "Heaven forbid you should," returned IMalcolm, "for by all accounts, a worse character does not exist. Refuse him, my dear girl, point blank — no evasions or after considerations — and don't listen a moment to Mrs. Ilarcourt's persuasions. You don't like him, and won't many him ; stick to that, and mind, I will stick to you through thick and thin." At this moment a servant entered, saying Mrs. Harcourt wished to see Miss Douglas in her morning-room. " Very well," replied Malcolm, " she will be there directly. Now Blauche," said he, pouring out a glass of wine, " drink that, my dear girl, to keep up your courage ; and recollect I shall be listening to hear what you say ; be firm and decided, and we will take a walk together afterwards." Poor Blanche, dreading a lecture as well as a proposal, entered her aunt's room, trembling with apprehension, and being offered a chair, was obliged to listen to the contents of Lord Yancourt's letter, with many comments thereon from Mrs. Harcourt. " And now, my dear child,'* continued her aunt, most afiisc- tionately, "you will, of course, not decline such an unexception- able offer. Lord Yancourt is so handsome, so agreeable, and talented in addition to his rank, that you really ought to feel highly flattered by the preference he has shown you, inde- pendent of his professions of deep attachment to yourself, which I am sure, from his manner, he must feel." "Indeed, aunt," replied Blanche timidly, "I cannot accept him." " Not accept him, Blanche 1 and why not ? " she inquired, in well-feigned astonishment. " Because [ cannot love, or even respect him, aunt ; his very looks frighten me." " ^Yhat nonsense, child ! you are so timid ; but all that will pass away when you have known him longer." " I do not wish to marry yet, aunt, and never can accept Lord Yancourt;" and, notwithstanding all her aunt's entreaties, remonstrances, and even menaces of her displeasure, Blanche, emboldened by a slight cough at the door, adhered firmly to her 128 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. text, and quietly, tliougli positively, rejected his proposal; nor would she admit the hope of time (the last plank to a ^vi'ecked lover) ejBfecting a more favourable change in his favour. " I am really surprised at you," said Mrs. Harcourt at last, rising indignantly, "that, after all our kindness, you should show so little respect to our wishes." Blanche hastily rushed from the room, and in a moment afterwards found herself in her cousin's arms, who was waiting in the corridor. "Now Blanche, dear," he said, kissing her flushed cheek, *' run up, like a good girl, and put on your bonnet ; I shall wait in the hall." "Oh, Charles, I feel so unhappy from having displeased Aunt Harcourt that I shall remain in my room." " You shall do no such thing, Blanche ; and unless you join me in the hall within ten minutes, I will come up to your room and fetch you. I won't let you cry and fret about all this got- up humbug." Blanche soon re-appeared, and the fresh au', with Malcolm's cheerful and cheering society, soon made her feel more com- posed. '' Stuff and nonsense about offending your aunt," exclaimed he. " So you are to marry to suit her convenience, are you ? and swear to love and obey a man you don't care a rap about — more, positively dislike % By all that's sacred, would not such an act be absolute perjury ? My dear Blanche, the very idea is horrible — positively revolting to any pure-minded woman ; and if either your guardian or aunt venture on this subject with me, they shall have a lecture they will not very easily forget." " Oh, don't say anything about it to them, Charles." " Not unless they begin, depend upon it ; but now we will talk of something else, as I feel thoroughly disgusted with the whole affair." Whilst the two cousins were enjoying their walk, Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt were concocting their reply to Lord Yancourt, and verifying the old adage of " too many cooks sj)oiling the broth ; " for with the lady's interference and amendments, the meaning of the letter was so ambiguous, that it might be taken either as a refusal or acceptance of his lordship's proposals. The document, however, such as it was, was at length despatched, and received by Lord Yancourt, who was sitting over the fire with Lord Mervyn and Yernon in the library, previous to dressing for dinner. His lordship hastily broke the seial and sc^*^^^*^ vapidly the A PUZZLING LETTER. 129 eontents — he read tliem a second time more carefully — turned the letter over and over, and was commencing another perusal, ■when Lord Mervyn asked impatiently, " What is it, Vancourt, a refusal or acceptance 1 " "'Pon my life, I can scarcely tell," replied Vancourt. "There," handing it across to him, "give me your opinion, for I cannot make head or tail of it." Lord Mervyn was equally puzzled, and handed it in turn to Vernon, saying, "There, you are a diplomatist, Vernon, and may perhaps unravel the language of this mystical compound." Vernon, knowing the character of the writers, rightly interpreted their meaning, and said, " Here have been two heads at work with this composition. Harcourt intended it as % refusal from Miss Douglas, but the lady, having set her mind on accepting Lord Vancourt, has endeavoured to nullify his intentions, and so far has succeeded that any man may take it as an acceptance from her guardian, and in that light I should certainly recommend Lord Vancourt to consider it. The last sentence, ' That Lord Vancourt has both Mr. and Mrs. Har- court's best wishes for his ultimate success in obtaining their niece's hand, and that no persuasions on their part shall be wanting to effect so desirable a consummation,' is the very admission we desired. My advice, therefore, is, that Lord Vancourt should ride over to-morrow, express his warm obligations to Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt for their friendly senti- ments towards himself, and endeavour to obtain an interview with the young lady ; and I doubt not, from her timidity and fear of her aunt's displeasure, such an answer may be extorted from her own lips as to be construed into an acceptance, or, at least, so Lord Vancourt will interpret it, and then what is to follow will appear almost as a natural consequence, for on one point I am thoroughly satisfied, from what I overheard men- tioned by several persons in the ball-room the other night, that Lord Vancourt has not a day to spare ; in fact, Melville told Bob Conyers that he was going to town the next day on purpose to collect information about the Italian and a certain person's affairs, which he was determined to communicate to Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt without delay, for he swore Miss Douglas should never marry such an impostor. Those were his Avords, my lord, although they must be very unpalatable for you to hear. The blacksmith, therefore, is your only chance. Independent of which, you are already blown upon by Markham, whose sister, Selina, spoke pretty plain, as she always does." I ISO TBE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS, " I heard lier," replied Vancourt, " and suspect, as you m^\ my chief dependence now is on two pair of posters and mj travelling carriage." "That is the thing, my lord — the only thing to be dono under your circumstances ; and having this letter in your pos- session from her guardian, you are as safe as the Bank of Eng- land." The next morning, after breakfast, Mrs. Gordon drove over to see her niece, and finding her very low-spirited, inquired the cause, which poor Blanche readily confided to her kind-hearted aunt, "sv^^en they were together in her own room. " A'j, poor child ! I feared Mrs. Harcourt would be worry- ing you to accept that bad man, for such a character Captain Melville gave Mr. Conyers of him, declaring he woidd go to London directly and get evidence to prove all he said ; and now, my dear Blanche, you shall return with me to the Priory for a few days, to recruit youi' spirits and escape further imr- portunities." '^ Oh, dear aunt ! I shall be so delighted if you will take m© witli you." '^ That I certainly will, my love; so get Alice to pack up your ''hings, whilst I go down-stairs and speak to Mrs. Har- court, .^or go with me you shall." Any one of my readers who has witnessed the meeting of tw^o strange cats, with arched backs, and fire darting from tlieisr eye-balls, spitting and swearing as a preliminary to scratching and tearing the fieck out of each other's bodies, may form some idea of the rencontre between the two aunts, when brought into hostile collision about their niecCv " So, Mrs. Harcourt," exclaimed Aunt Gordon, on entering the drawing-room, " you have been worrying poor Blanche to accept that good-for-nothing man, Lord Vancourt." "Good-for-nothing man, Mrs. Gordon! what do yo« mean?" " That he is a v/orthless, gambling, penniless fortune-hunt-er, and already married, or entangled with an opera dancer. To encourage such a man for my niece is unpardonable, Mrs. Har- eourt." "It is unpardonable in you, Mrs. Gordon," retorted the other, " to utter such a false, scandalous libel against his lord* Bhip, Vr^ho is ?, person of unblemished character, of well-known good fortur e, and of the highest and most honourable feelings. But who i j his base slanderer, Mrs. Govdon? His name I havt ALARMING REVELATIONS. 131 a right to know, as we have ajDproved Lord Vancourt's pro- posals, allowing Blanche due time for consideration.'* " My information is derived through Mr. Conyers from Captain Melville, who has known Lord Yan court f<.t Bome years, and he is now gone to London to obtain the necessary proof of what he has asserted, as Mr. Conyers questioned the truth of these reports. His last words to him were — ' As you doubt my word, I engage to return at the end of a week, and prove Lord Yancourt an impostor, or forfeit my honour as a gentleman.' Having spoken this in a public ball-room, Cap* tain Melville must (holding a commission in the army) maintain or retract his assertions ; and, in the meantime, under these unpleasant circumstances, Blanche will find it more comfortable at the Priory than here, where, of course (after your sanction to his addresses). Lord Yancourt will be calling again." IVIi's. Harcourt, feeling alarmed at these revelations, and thinking that perhaps she had been too precipitate in the affair, raised no further objections to Blanche's return with Mrs. Gordon, and wdthin half an hour they were in her carriage on the road to the Priory, Lord Malcolm promising to ride over after luncheon and dine with them. Malcolm had scarcely disappeared through the lower lodge gates of Throseby, before Lord Yancourt entered by the upper. He was rather more formally received by the lady of the man- Bion than he expected, which, notwithstanding all his compli- mentary speeches and expressions of deep obligation for Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt' s most flattering approval of his proposals, did not wear away. " May I hope," inquired his lordship, in the most deferen- tial tone, " for a short interview with Miss Douglas, as I have not had the opportunity of making my proposal to her in person 1 " "She left us this morning to remain with her aunt, Mrs. Gordon, for a week," was the reply. Lord Yancourt bit his lip at this intelhgence, and looked exceedingly mortified, which Mrs. Harcourt noticing, said — " Your lordship must have gathered from Mr. Harcourt's letter that we had failed to obtain the consent of Miss Douglas to receive your addresses." " Indeed ! I did not so interpret its contents," replied Lord Yancourt, " but was induced to think a personal interview with your niece might have led to a better understanding between ua, and a confirmation of my most sanguine hopes." I 2 132 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " At present," replied Mrs. Harcourt, " Miss Douglas would, I am quite sure, decHne such an interview, although time may possibly effect some change in her sentiments." " Am I to consider, then," inquired Lord Vancourt, " thia as my final answer, that Miss Douglas positively declines my future addresses 1 " " Oh, dear, no ! " replied Mrs. Harcourt (fearing she waa now verging on the other extreme, and taking Mrs. Gordon's communications for granted) ; " we shall be most happy to re- ceive you here as usual on my niece's return, although, from her natural shyness of character, too much precipitation on your lordship's part would produce the contrary effect to that which you have our best wishes to accomplish." With many thanks for this friendly concession, Lord Van- court politely took his leave, leaving Mrs. Harcourt in a most unenviable state of mind, doubting whether she had said too much or too little. On Mr. Harcourt' s return, the occurrences of the day were duly retailed, and that worthy gentleman began to doubt his own want of proper precaution in not first investi- gating Lord Yancourt's aflfairs, merely relying on Lord Mervyn's representations. " We have been too hasty, my dear," observed Mr. Har- court ; " and I now truly regret having penned that letter, 'jhiefly at your dictation." "Oh, it is of little consequence," returned his spouse; "Blanche does not like him, and so ends the business, since with her fortune there will be no lack of suitors." Poor Blanche, when safe at the Priory, felt like a bird escaped from its cage, and her happiness was increased by the arrival of Malcolm and Bob Conyers to dinner, the latter dropping in quite unexpectedly. Great indignation was ex- pressed (when the servants withdrew) by Malcolm and Con- yers at the Harcourts' indelicate behaviour to Blanche, in which Aunt Gordon heartily concurred ; and all three having declared their resolution to prevent a repetition of such im- proper influence being again exercised over her, the subject was discontinued, and the events at the ball substituted. Leav- ing this happy party by the fireside, we must now look in it* Marston Castle. THE ABDUCTION DETERMINED UPON, 133 CHAPTER XIII. About the same hour, seated in the dining-room at Marston, after the ladies had retired, were Lords Mervyn and Yancourt, discussing with Vernon their future plans of operation. " It is quite evident," remarked Yemen, " from Mrs. Har^ court's altered tone to Lord Yancourt, coupled with Misfl Douglas's retreat to the Priory, that some person (most probably Mrs. Gordon) has thrown out strong hints, if nothing more, about his lordship's position, and this week's delay may bring many things to light. Melville thinks the heiress is decidedly taken with him, and, to confess the truth, she gave some cause for encouragement the night of the ball, and he will rake London over to establish cei-tain reports about Lord Yancourt. The time for deliberation is past. Is it now your intention, my lord, to act or retreat 1 " " Certainly not the latter ! " replied Lord Yancourt, grind- ing his teeth with passion. " I will be revenged on Melville and the whole set, Conyers, Beauchamp, and Gordon ; nothing shall turn me from my purpose now." "To-morrow, then," said Yernon, "we must make our arrangements ' sub Jove frigido^ since walls, doors, and wain- scots in this house seem to have ears ; there is a traitor among us somewhere, of which I am well convinced ; but we have spies in the enemy's camp also, who will give us all the information we require." The week had expired, and Mrs. Harcourt's carriage was ordered to bring Miss Douglas back from the Priory, about ten o'clock in the evening, after a small party there ; when Mark Kosier suddenly made his appearance at Bampton, about nine o'clock, and jumping from a horse he had borrowed of a farmer, rushed into the servants' hall. " Where is Mr. William ? " he inquired, in breathless haste, of his friend, John, the footman. " In the dra^ving-room," was the reply. " Quick then, John, and whisper in his ear, ' Mark must see him this moment ' — lose not a second." The message was delivered, and Beauchamp, springing from his chair, instantly darted from the room. Mark met him in the passage. " Quick, sir," he said, in a low voice. " Your pistols, or Miss Blanche is lost 1 " 134 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Get my horse, Mark, and one for yourself, saddled directly, and I will run down to the stable-yard." In five minutes, Beauchamrp had put on a strong dark- coloured shooting jacket, with two brace of pistols in his pockets, and was galloping with Mark Rosier up the ride leading to the lodge gate. " Now, Mark, tell me what has happened, as we {TO alonof — where is Miss Douglas 1 " " At the Priory, sir, I hope, yet ; but Mrs. Harcourt s carriage is sent to take her home at ten ; and that d d rascally lord has got his travelling chariot, with four posters, waiting on the common, to intercept and carry her off to Scotland." " How do you know this, Mark 1 " " The ostler at Cherrington, sir, is an old friend of mine, and told me all about the horses being ordered, and fresh relays bespoke on the North E,oad ; and Tom Carter, my lord's foot- man, fished out something about it, too, and ran out to my hiding-place, behind the castle (where I have been the last three nights, from dark till nearly daylight), about six o'clock this evening, telling me he overheard the valet and Lord Vanconrt saying something about Marston Common, at ten o'clock to-night. ' They are off, Mark,' said he, ' trunks packed and all, and you haven't a minute to spare ; ' so, sir, I ran down to the village, where my partners were, ordered them to go to the steep hill beyond the common, with their air-guns, and hide themselves behind the hedge, to knock over the leading horses, and rescue the young lady, if we did not arrive in time." "Well done, Mark," exclaimed Beauchamp. "Here, take these two pistols, but don't use them, unless obliged to do so, to save your life ; now come along," as, setting spurs to his horse, Beauchamp rode rapidly on towards the Priory. "Quick, to the back door, Mark, and learn of the servants if the carriage has left with Miss Douglas ; if it has, give a whistle, and follow me as fast as you can ; I shall keep on the road." In a few minutes the shrill whistle of the poacher was heard, piercing through the house, even to where Mrs. Gordon was sitting. At the signal, Beauchamp almost flew along, at such a pace that Mark strove in vain to overtake him. We must now relate what was occurring to Blanche Douglas, who, accompanied by her maid, Alice, had left the Priory in Mrs. Harcourt's carnage, about twenty minutes before Beauchamp'? calling thei'e- They had proceeded about A RESCUE. 135 three miles ; the night, although very misty, was (from the moon beginning to rise) sufficiently light to distinguish objects in passing, when Alice, who was looking through the window, suddenly exclaimed — " The coachman has passed the tuiTiing- off to Throseby, miss, and is driving on towards the common." " Good heavens ! " re2:)lied Blanche, " where can he be going to? Quick, Alice, put your head out of the window, and ask him." She had just done so, when the carriage stopped on the edge of the common, neai- a clump of beech trees, and Vancourt's valet, coming to the door, said Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt had dined, and were going to stay the night at the castle, /jid had sent Lord Mervyn's carriage to meet her there ; the other being ordered to return home, and come to Marston in the morning. Blanche, being greatly surprised at this information, was hesitating how to act, when Mr. Harcourt' s coachman said, " It's all right, miss, you may depend." "ISTow, ma'am, quick, if you please," again interposed the valet j " I hear some farmers riding this way fiom market, and we are blocking up the road." Still poor Blanche hesitated, having an instinctive dread of some evil impending over her. "Stay till the farmers have , passed ! " quickly whispered Alice to her mistress. " We shall be run over," exclaimed the valet, " if you don't come directly, ma'am." "Stay one minute longer, my dear young lady," again whispered her faithful servant, " I'm sure there's something wrong." At this instant Beauchamp reached the scene, and, riding furiously up to the carriage, asked, in a stern voice, " What are you doing here, you scoundrels ? " The same story was again quickly repeated by coachman and valet, when Beauchamp exclaimed to the former, " Turn your horses' heads, this instant, back to the Priory, or I'll send this bullet," drawing a pistol, " through your treacherous brains ; and you, my Lord Yancourt's valet, are my prisoner," said Beauchamp, seizing him by the collar. " Not if I can prevent it," said Lord Yancourt, suddenly presenting himself. '' How dare you, sir, touch my servant, or interfere between Miss Douglas and her guardian's orders ? She shall return to Marston Castle, even if force is necessary." " Ha ! ha ! " shouted Mark, who had just reached the spot> 136 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " To Marston Castle, indeed ; you mean Gretna Green ! ha ! ha ! caught, my Lord Yancourt ! caught at last ! " " Stand aside," said Beauchamp, jumping on the ground, and attempting to close the carriage door. "Miss Douglas is under my protection now." " She is not, and never shall be," exclaimed Vancourt, vehemently, thrusting him violently away; and seizing Blanche by the arm, he tried to drag her forth. "Villain!" shouted Beauchamp, now thoroughly roused, " take that for your insolence ; " and he felled him with his fist, instantly, to the ground. At the same moment, INIark, putting his fingers to his mouth, sent forth a whistle, which echoed far through hill and dale, making the horses almost spring out of their harness. "Hold them tight, Job/' cried Mark to Mr. Harcourt's coachman ; " you don't move without the squire, mind, again to-night, or it shall be your last move on earth. Keep your box and sit still, or I'll knock you out of it, as I would a pheasant from his roost." Lord Yancourt, recovering his feet, instantly levelled his pistol and fired, without efiect, at Beauchamp, who, returning the compliment, shot Lord Yancourt through the left arm, breaking the bone above the elbow. " Look out, sir ! " shouted Mark, " here's more of the blackguards coming on," as three men rushed down upon them, who were soon in fierce conflict hand to hand, Mark plying his cudgel so efiectually as to knock the foremost in- stantly ofi" his legs, and Beauchamp conferring a similar favour on the next with the muzzle of his pistol ; when the third, fearing the fate of his companions, drew his pistol and shot Beauchamp through the fleshy part of his body, under the shoulder blade. He staggered, but did not fall ; and Mark, receiving at the same time a dig in the back from the dagger of the valet, smarting and rendered savage by the pain, shot Beauchamp's antagonist through the body. Meanwhile, Lord Yancourt, disabled but not subdued, with his right hand re- newed his efforts to drag Miss Douglas from the carriage. Assisted by Alice, she was resisting with her utmost strength, when Beauchamp dealt him a blow on the face, which broke his nose and sent him staggering into the road. " Quick, my lord!" cried the valet, catching him in his arms and dragging him to his chariot, " I hear men running down the road. All is lost — c^uick ! or we shall be made prisoners ! " THE ABDUCTION PREVENTED. 137 The hint was enough ; the valet shut his master in, and springing on the box, the four horses bore them rapidly away from the scene of their disaster. The other poachers rushed quickly to the rescue of their leader, who was still grappling with one of his assailants, and the affair was soon brought to a close, although the issue of the combat, with heavy odds against them, had been determined already by the courage and prowess of Mark and the young squire, who fought like lions robbed of their prey. "Now, Mark," said Beauchamp, "let your fellows hold these villains in custody, whilst I go to Miss Douglas." Poor Blanche sat trembling in the carriage from excessive fright, almost unconscious of what was going on, when Beau- champ, opening the door, said, " Thank Heaven, you are safe, dearest Blanche ! Lord Vancourt has fled, and the poachers have secured the rest." By the sudden transition from fright to joy, with other tumultuous feelings rushing through her heart, Blanche fell back on the seat iainting, when Alice cried out, " Quick, Mr. Beauchamp — support her in your arms whilst I get some salts from my pocket." In a moment her head was resting on his breast, while her maid was applying restoratives, which soon roused her from her swoon. " Oh, where am I ? " she faintly asked. " Safe, my dear girl, in Will Beauchamp's arms," was the Bofb reply ; " are you afraid of him, dear Blanche ? " as she struggled to rise. " Oh, no, dear William — my kind, my noble preserver; but I am better now ; let us return to dear Aunt Gordon." " That you shall, directly ; I will be with you again in a moment." Ordering Mark to bring the prisoners with the horses to the Priory, and telling the coachman to drive back there imme- diately, Beauchamp entered the carriage ; and Alice, saying she would rather be outside to see they did not take a wrong turn again, left the lovers together, and got up behind with the footman, who had all the time been standing at the horses* heads, to prevent their running away during the fight. As they sat side by side, the blood from Beauchamp's wound trickled down on Blanche's arm, who, feeling the moisture, raised it to the light of the lamp. " Good heavens, William ! " she exclaimed, turning pale, and in great alarm, "you ar« bleeding ! oh, tell me where you ^re hurt ! " 138 - THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Only a scratch, dear girl. Don't look so frightened — I assure you it is nothing of consequence ! " " Oh, what can I do for you, dear William 1 " she exclaimed, still in great terror. " Nothing, clearest Blanche, but this — if you really love me, may I have one kiss, which will heal all my wounds ? " No reply being given, Beauchamp strained her to his heart, whispering, " Oh, how thankful I am for this reward, dear Blanche ! and for having saved you from such a fate." " How thankful ought I to feel to you, dear "William, for risking yoiir life to protect me from that dreadful man ! " They had now reached the Priory, when, at the sound of the wheels, all the servants, with Mrs. Gordon also, rushed to the hall door in a body, having been terrified by Mark's sudden appearance at the back door an hour before, and fearing some dreadful work was going on, from the distant report of fire-arms which had been heard even at the Priory. When the steps were let down, Beauchamp handed Blanche from the carriage, who, throwing herself into her aunt's arms, burst into tears, sobbing convulsively on her bosom. *'My dear, dear child," oxclaimed Mrs. Gordon, trembling with apprehension, " what frightful thing has happened 1 Your dress is covered with blood ! Where are you injured, my dearest love ? " " Oh, nowhere, dearest aunt ! I am not injured — but pool William " — bursting again into tears — " is, I fear, badly wounded. It is the blood from his side. Pray attend to him, and do not regard me." " Run then to the dining-room, dear Blanche, with Alice, and get some wine directly, while I bring him there. Now William," said Mrs. Gordon, taking him by the arm, " what can have happened ? And where are you hurt, my dear boy ? You look faint and exhausted." " Only a crack on the ribs, dear aunt," replied Beauchamp, smiling, "from that scoundrel Vancourt, who tried to carry oft Blanche — nothing more ; and a little bleeding will do me good after this hot, exciting work." " Don't be foolish, William. A glass of wine will do you most good at present. So come with me, and then I must examine your wound, whilst you tell me more of this horrid outrage." Saying which, she led him into the dining-room, and made kim lie down on the sofa, where Blanche brought him a glass of BESULTS OP THE CONFLICT. 139 wine, trembling still, and shaking so much that she spilt half of it on the floor. " Drink it yourself, dear Blanche," said Beauchamp, springing up, '' and another, too, or I will not touch a drop. Sit down, my dear girl. I am not much hurt." Saying which, he poured her out a full glass, which he made her take, and then lillincy one himself, said, before raising it to his lips, " Here's health and long life to Mark Eosier, the poacher, who has saved dear Blanche from that rascally lord's clutches ! " " Now, dear child," said Mrs. Gordon, " run up-stairs, and change your dress, whilst I order tea to be taken into the drawing-room." CHAPTER XIY. As soon as she had left the room, Beauchamp was obliged to take off his coat and waistcoat and submit to Mrs. Gordon's inspection, who cutting a strip from under his arm, laid bare the wound. "Indeed, William," she exclaimed, " it is a ^^hockin"' bad place. I must send for the surgeon." " Oh, pray don't, dear aunt ! I do not think there is any occasion." " It must and shall be done instantly, and I will do what I can in the meantime." SayiDg which, she rang the bell and gave orders accordingly ; and, running from the room, soon returned with her maid, who brought hot water and bandages, with which, after due fomenta- tions, Beauchamp's side was carefully bound up. " Now, dear aunt," he said, " after all your kind care and trouble, I feel quite refreshed and easy. Let us join Blanche for a cup of tea, and you shall hear the whole story of this night's adventures, as far as I know myself" Lying on the sofa, near the fire, by Aunt Gordon's directions, Beauchamp was waited upon by Blanche, who placed a small table by his side, and her attention was more than repaid by his happy smile, when receiving these kind ofiices from her hands. All he knew was. related to Mrs. Gordon, who frequently interrupted him by exclamations of anger or surprise at thia most darino: outrasfe. " And now, dear aunt," said Beauchamp, " if you will bo j^nd enough to give me pen and paper, to write a few lines to 140 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. Constance and my father, who must be alarmed at my absence, I shall be much obliged." " That I will do for you, William ; so remain quiet where you are." The letter was accordingly written and despatched imme- diately. " That reminds me that I ought to apprise Mrs. Harcourb also of the events of this night, and the conduct of her protege. Lord Yancourt ; although I am resolved, after this disgraceful affair, Blanche shall not again return to Throseby." " Oh, dear aunt ! " exclaimed Blanche, " can you — will you keep me with you?" " Yes, my love, I can and will do so, being your guardian equally with ]\Ir. Harcourt." A servant at this moment entered the room, to say that Mr. Harcourt' s coachman had run away, leaving the carriage and horses in the stable-yard. " Eun away, did you say ? " asked Mrs. Gordon in amaze- ment. " Yes, ma'am," replied the man ; " and Eobert the footman says he thinks he was bribed by Lord Yancourt to drive Miss Douglas to meet his lordship's carriage on the common." " Good heavens ! " exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, " what a villain ! you may go, John, and send the footman to me," " Please, sir," said the man, addressing Beauchamp, " Mark Rosier wants to speak to you." "Then send him here," replied Mrs. Gordon, "for Mr. Beauchamp shall not leave the sofa." The tall, athletic, handsome poacher was soon ushered into the drawing-room, where he stood near the door, with a low bow to the ladies. " Come here, Mark," cried Beauchamp, extending his hand, which the poacher seized and pressed to his lips; "you are a brave, honest fellow; and to your courage this night am I indebted for my life, and the safety of Miss Douglas. My gratis tude for this service will end only with my own existence." " Master William," said Mark, "I loved you when a boj; and have had much more cause to love you since I became § man, and I would willingly lay down my life to serve you at any time. But what's the matter, sir 1 where were you wounded by that rascally lord ? " " He missed me^ Mark, but the other villain you knock«l over shot me through the fleshy part over the ribs,'^' * FIGHTING THE BATTLE o'eR AGAIN.'^ 141 ** Let me see, sir," said Mark, kneeling down by the sofa ; **I have known something about gunshot wounds before to- " It is all right," said Beauchamp ; " Mrs. Gordon has kindly fomented and bound it up; besides, Mai-k," he whispered, " there are ladies in the room." " I beg pardon, sir," said the poacher, rising, " but I was only thinking of you." "Now, Mark," said Mrs. Gordon, leading up Blanche, "it is our turn to thank you, my kind friend, for your valuable assistance this night;" and both shook him cordially by the hand. "Welcome, right welcome, ladies," replied Mark, "and glad am I to see that dear young lady once more happy and safe ; but, my lady, it were a near thing — that long-legged lord were just a-going to drag Miss Blanche from the carriage, when the young squire (God bless him !) knocked him off his pins like a babby, and shut the door. Then up jumps my lord, and let fly a bullet at Mr. William, which (the Lord be praised for it !) missed un clean. The squire then broke his arm — sarved him right — and with another rattler in the face, sent my Lord Longlegs spinning across the road ; and I'll wager a pound he remembers the young squire to his dying day. So you see, my lady, it warn't Mark, but Mr. William, that saved IVIiss Blanche from being half way on her road to Scotland by this time." "There, Mark, that will do," interposed Beauchamp ; "now sit down, and Miss Blanche will give you a cup of tea ; and tell me about your own wound in the back." "All, sir, that foreign coward thought he had me there nicely, but the velveteen and badger waistcoat stood my friends, and it's only a scratch after all — not half so bad as yours, sir. But what d'ye think, squire ? dang it all I our three prisoners are my Lord Mervyn's night watchers." " What, Mark ! " exclaimed Beauchamp. " As true as you be lying on that sofa, sir ; we knowed 'em directly we got to the light, sir ; and one on 'em, that chap that shot you, squire, has got something in his carcass, which don't quite agree with un quite so well as a figgy pudding." " I hope he's not seriously hurt, though, Mark, and that he lias been attended to ? " " Yes, yes, squire ; don't fidget about him, for all the ser- vants in the house have been waiting on and pitying the rascal, and we can't do more till the doctor comes ; and then to think, 142 THE MASTEft OP THE HOUNDS. iquire, that Mr. Job, the coachman, should have iDeen in tliQ ;>lot, and sell his young mistress for fifty pounds ! he has cut it, sir, already, and left Robert to drive the carriage home ; so altogether, squire, what with my lord's under-keepers, and Mr. Harcourt's coachman, there's a pretty kettle of fish boiled up to-night." " Can all this be really true, Mark ? " inquired Mrs. Gordon in surprise. "As true, my lady, as that Mark Kosier is sitting down drinking tea and eating bread and butter in this chair." " Oh, Blanclie ! my darling child," exclaimed her aunt, fold- ing her again in her arms, "what a set of villains have been plotting your ruin ! and Lord Mervyn, too, with a daughter of his own. Poor dear child ! you shall never leave me any more." " That's right, my lady," chimed in Mark, " don't ever trust that dear, sweet angel out of your sight again, unless with the young sij^uire ; or who knows, that rascally lord may send another lot of ruffians down to carry her off again; don't let her go to Throseby no more, ma'am, for here Mark and the poachers will watch over her day and night." " Really, Mark ! after this fearful work, I think I must retain you and two of your men as my body-guard." "So you shall, my lady; and we will enter on our service to-morrow, and woe betide any half-dozen fellows who dare touch Miss Blanche again." A ring at the hall bell was now heard, on which Mark, jump- ing up from his chair, said, " That's the doctor, ladies ; and with many thanks for your kindness, I wiU run off and see how my patient fares." Mr. Morgan, the sporting surgeon, now made his appearance ; and after paying his compliments to the ladies, turned to shake hands with Beauchamp. "Well, squire," said the good-humoured doctor, ''because you could not be hunting, you have been doing a little bit of fighting during the frost, eh ? " " Not willingly, doctor ; but first step into the servants' hall, there's a worse case there — mine will keep. After that, I will go with you into the dining-room, where you can examine my scratch." "Well, as you please," rei)lied Morgan, "if Mrs. Gordon has no objection." " William ajipears much easier now," she said j " and as he '^hes it, perha|>s you had better go there first." WHAT SHALL BE DONE I 143 The doctor soon returned, telling Mrs. Gordon, with a very grave face, that the man ^Yas dangerously wounded by a ball through his body, although he believed no vital part had been injured ; yet that he required great care and attention, and ought immediately to be placed in bed. "Do exactly as you consider best," replied Mrs. Gordon, " and tell the housekeeper to have everything prepared for him without delay." "Thank you, my dear madam, for your kindness," said Morgan, as he again left the room j when Malcolm rushed in, with consternation depicted on his face, and instantly folded Blanche in his embrace, exclaiming, " My poor, dear girl ! what an escape you have had from that villain ! But, Will Beau- champ, are you much hurt, my brave, noble fellow 1 I heard the whole account i.om Harcourt's footman." " Oh, not much, Malcolm, as you may see, by my enjoying a cup of tea." The story was again told, when Malcolm said — " Upon my word ! what with Lord Mervyn's keepers, and Mr. Harcourt's coachman, this is a most serious affair, and 1 will have it sifted to the bottom." "Perhaps," suggested Mrs. Gordon, "for dear Blanche's sake, we had better let it pass as quiet as possible, and keep a strict watch over her for the future." " And allow these villains to escape exposure ! But, besides, dear aunt. Lord Mervyn would assuredly take advantage of our weakness, and say the matter was hushed up by mutual consent; that Blanche was a consenting party to an elopement with Lord Yancourt, and which, he would assert, was only prevented by Beauchamp's interference — and this Lord Vancourt reported to be a married man ! My dear aunt, you must see, Blanche's fair fame would be tarnished for ever by such an insinuation even. No, no ! it's impossible to compromise this business ; and I ara resolved, for the honour of both our families — my cousin's and my own — that a thorough investigation shall take place. It is my province, as one of her nearest relatives, to clear ker from all complicity or connivance with Lord Yan- court ; and, my dear aunt, it must and shall be done ! " "Well, Charles, 1 believe you take the right view of the ^e, which 's too serirus to be passed over ; but I think Mr. j3.arcoiirt will endeavour to hush it up on account of his friend, Lord Mervyn, and to screen himself, as his servant was con* earned also." Hi THE MASTER OF THE HOUKDS. " No doubt, aunt ; but balf a score Harcourts and Mervyns Bball not prevent me discbarging my duty to dear Blanche, and protecting her fair name from pollution with such a man as Vancourt." Mr. Morgan put a stop to further conversation by just then returning to the drawing-room. " Now, squire," he said, " it is your turn, as my other patient is as comfortable as he has any right to expect, if you and Lord Malcolm will walk with me into the other room." Mrs. Gordon looking anxious, and Blanche pale, at this announcement, from fear of Beauchamp's bei"^ subjected to more pain, Morgan assured them they need E/)t be alarmed ; adding, with a smile — " Rest satisfied, ladies ; I will not hurt him for my own sake, as I don't want to be double- thonged when he gets into the saddle once more ;" with which the three gentlemen walked off together. After examining and probing the wound, which caused "Will Beauchamp to wince a little, Morgan expressed his opinion that rest and quiet must be observed for some few days ; and added — " You may thank your lucky star, or guardian angel, that the ball struck your rib on the centre, my young friend, or you had been past all surgical aid. It's a confounded rascally business, altogether ; and I hope, my lord," turning to Malcolm, " you won't let that old fox-killer up at the castle escape probing a little." " You may depend, doctor, I won't spare him or any con- cerned in this outrage. And now let us return to the ladies, as I saw their anxious looks." Morgan assured Mrs. Gordon she need be under no alarm on Beauchamp's account, whose wound would heal in a few days ; but that he ought not to return home that night, and take only gruel or tea till he saw him again in the morning. " Ah, my dear aunt ! " exclaimed Malcolm, when the door had closed on Morgan, "Beauchamp has had a very narrow escape ; and thankful must we all be to the Almighty that he has been spared to us." " My dear, dear boy," said Aunt Gordon, affected to tears, and going up and kissing him, " what should I have done with- out you ? And now you are dearer to me than ever." " Pray don't give way thus, dear aunt," whispered Beau- eh amp ; " you will distress poor Blanche, who t see, is ready FATHER AND SON. li$ to cry, and she has had enough to-night to agitate her ; bub let her bring me another cup of tea, as I feel rather thirsty." " Come, Blanche, don't you follow the example of your foolish old aunt, but take this to William." As she handed Beau champ the cup, he held her hand for a moment, saying, " Dear Blanche, how many will envy Will Beauchamp's scratch this night, which has giveu him such a cup-bearer ! and how forcibly does your kind attention remind me of those beautiful lines of Scott : — * Oh, ■woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please * * • » * When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! ' " The last word had scarcely passed his lips, when a carriage was driven furiously up to the hall door, and a voice heard shouting — " Let me out ! Open the door ! " " There's no mistaking that voice ! " exclaimed Malcolm, darting from the room. " It is the old squire." " How is my dear boy ? " inquired Mr. Beauchamp, as he met Malcolm in the hall. " Not much the matter, my dear sir, as he is lying on the sofa, drinking tea, and quoting poetry." " Quick ! where is he ? " he said to Malcolm, who was now speaking to Constance. " In the drawing-room ; here, this way " And in a moment, Mr. Beauchamp, regardless of the ladies, was kneeling by his son, ejaculating — " Thank God ! thank God ! the Father of all mercies, that you are spared to me, my own darling boy." And the old man burst into a flood of tears, still repeating his thanks to God for preserving his son's life. Constance, throwing herself into Blanche's arms, gave vent also to her pent-up feelings, which she had repressed to keep up her father ; but now the tears of all three ladies fell uncontrolled, and even Malcolm was obliged to turn aside to conceal his emotion at witnessing this affecting interview between father and son. " Come, come, my dear father," at" length said Beauchamp, ** this agitation hurts my side ; and you have not yet spoken a word to dear, kind Mrs. Gordon or Blanche." The old man rose slowly from his knees, and going up to J 146 THE MASTER Of THE HOUNDS. Mrs. Gordon, took lier hand in his, which he held for some time, but all utterance failed him. " I can't thank you now," he at last said, as the tears still rolled down his cheek; "and poor Blanche !" whose hand he next seized, "thank Heaven ! you are saved, dear child, from a fate worse than death ! " "Oh, 'Mr. Beauchamp," she sobLed ; "I am the wi'etched cause of all your grief What would I not give to save William one moment's pain ? " " Would you give this, dear girl 1 " he whispered, in a low tone, pressing ber hand in his, " to make my poor boy happy V " Yes," she said, softly, and blushing deeply ; " all I possess in the world." " The wound in his side," said Mr. Beauchamp, " will, I trust, yield to the doctor's skill ; but he has another, I suspect, which only this little hand can heal. Come with me, then, my own dear child, and be Will's comforter." Saying which, he led her to the sofa ; and, placing her hand in that of his son, said, in a whisper — " There, Will ; that will heal all your wounds ; and may the Almighty bless you both." " Oh, Blanche," murmured Beauchamp, as he pressed her hand to his lips, " how far beyond all my fondest hopes is this reward ! but, dearest, I must not claim it now, when you are overpowered with gratitude." "Will you refuse, then," she said, softly, "to make me happy?" "!N"o, no, my own dearest girl; not if love only prompts you to bestow this unlooked-for blessing on me. Is it so, dear Blanche?" " Yes," was the faint response. " Then am I blessed indeed," replied Beauchamp ; " and now, dearest, you have been so excited to-night, I hope you will retire to your room with Constance. I shall quickly follow your example, as I know Aunt Gordon is gone to order beds for us." During this scene, Mrs. Gordon and Malcolm had silently left the apartment, leaving Mr. Beauchamp and Constance only with the two lovers. The former now appeared, saying, " 1 have ordered a double-bedded room,' Mr. Beauchamp, for you and William, as I knew you would not like to leave him to- night ; and the tray to be brought in directly, with something more substantial than tea. And now, dear William, you must CONFESSION COOD FOR THE SOUL. 147 go with me to your room, where Malcolm is preparing every- thing for your comfort, with a large basin of gruel, which he declares none but a Scotchman can make." " Oh, very well," cried Mr. Beauchamp, gaily,; "then you are going to desert me entirely, I conclude ? " " Only for a short time, as Charles will join you directly, who declares he is as ravenous as one of his own mountain eagles. Now, children," continued Mrs. Gordon, as she led Beauchamp out of the room ; " kiss your father, Constance, and follow me." In a moment she was in her father's fu^ms', and when released from his embrace, Blanche held oui her hand to wish him good night. " No, dear child ; that wil not do now — come to my heart. I have found another daug i jter, and you a father, if you can love me as such." " Oh, indeed I will," she replied. " God bless you, my own dear Blanche," murmured the old squire, as he pressed her in his arms, and kissed her agsji and again. " There, child, now run away ; you and Will ha^v 3 made a woman of me to-night." On the landing-place, Beauchamp waited to wish } is sister good-night, where he was left a few minutes by Mrs. 9o^id a young lady along with 'un.' " ' A young lady along with him ! ' repeated the valet. * What sort of /.'joking person was she 1 ' " ' 'Jan't tell — boxed up tight together — doors shut and windo-w blinds down — runaway job, I expect; but there, that's no >^asiness of mine.* '* ' Well,' exclaimed the valet, * I must have two pair of h( .'SiiS out in ten minutes.' " ' Can't have what we haven't got,' replied the ostler, BUicily ; ' there's only one pair left.' " ' Then the same leaders must go the next stage,' said the vaiec. " ' Speak to the master about that,' replied the man, as he turned away. " The facts of the case were these. Yernon had resolved to carry off Miss Mervyn the same night, and having been annoyed by Lord Yancourt's refusal to pay him down the sum he had promised for his co-operation in the plot, calculating also on the hour Lord Yancourt would reach Cherrington, he determined to be beforehand with his lordshij), and, by assuming the same name, to take advantage of the relays of horses ordered on the road, thinking by this ruse to baffle all pursuit of himself; in short, it was diamond cut diamond, Yernon proving the sharpest of the two. This I have since learnt,** said Captain Melville, " but I remained at Cherrington until I saw Lord Yancourt (after having his arm set and bandaged up, with a large plaster on his nose) enter his carriage, iiotwith- PRELIBnNAEIES ARRANGED. 151 standing the surgeon's remonstrances, and drive rapidly on the road to London." Whilst Melville was telling his story to Mrs. Gordon, Malcolm, Beauchamp, and Conyers were in consultation about the prisoners, who had been kept at the Priory all night with a constable. "Being a magistrate for the county," said Beauchamp, " Bob can take down the wounded man's depositions, who is willing to confess everything, by Morgan's account ; and upon this, the other two, with Mark's statement and mine, can be remanded and brought before the Bench, which sits the day after to-morrow, when I will endeavour to attend. But bear in mind they are well handcuffed, or. a rescue will be attempted by Lord Mervyn's agents, although I shall give Mark some hints also." " Who is to prosecute 1 " asked Bob Conyers. " I shall, of course," replied Malcolm, " for I know Harcourt will shirk, to save his own and Mervyn's character. And now, Beauchamp, I think, if well enough, you had better return home to-day with your father, or that spiteful Mrs. Harcourt will declare we are only keejoing you here on account of Blanche. I intend to take up my abode at the Priory, and shall remain until all this is settled ; in short, I am so disgusted with the Harcourts that I have sent for all my traps, and do not intend just yet, if ever again, to enter their house." " Quite right, Malcolm," replied Bob ; " it is the most shame- ful, disgraceful aflair I have ever known, and no one will believe but that Harcourt and Mervyn had some concern in the plot ; and my dear pet Blanche ! what a fate has she escaped with that d d rascal ! Melville says you served my lord out for it, however. Will, with a sj^lit nose and a broken arm. Gad ! I should like to have seen you hit him off his legs, as Mark tells, like a ninepin." "I was mad enough to have kiUed him^" replied Beau- champ. "And I wish you had," interposed Malcolm, "as he tried hard to murder you." " I am thankful no lives are lost ; and now we will go down till the governor is ready ; but recollect, Malcolm, Blanche is now under your protection." " It is not likely I shall forget either her interest or yours, old fellow," replied Malcolm ; " and I expect you to take care of Constance for me." 152 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDfl. "No fear of that," was the reply, as the two friends and Conyers descended the staircase. Mrs. Gordon was much vexed at hearing Beauchamp*s intention to leave the Priory with his father, but on his motives being made known, she was constrained to admit their force, and a compromise was effected by Constance remaining in his place. The rage of Lord Mervyn on the discovery of his daughter's elopement with Yernon would be difficult to describe. This agreeable piece of information was communicated to him at breakfast the next morning, when the housemaid, entering the young lady's room to light the fire, found the bird had flown, and her bed had been unoccupied. She had pleaded a bad headache the night before, and retired with her maid about nine o'clock, when, immediately bolting the door, she descended the back staircase whilst the servants were at supper, and run- ning across two fields, through which a pathway led to the high road, she was there met by Yernon, with a carriage and horses all in readiness. The head-keeper also now acquainted his lordship with the capture of his three watchers, who had been employed by Lord Yancourt in assisting to carry off Miss Douglas. Lord Mervyn raged and stormed about the house like a madman, accusing his servants of connivance in his daughter's escape, and vowing vengeance on the whole house- hold. He saw at one glance that pursuit would now, after the lapse of so many hours, be useless. Betrayed, foiled, and out- witted by Yernon, imprecations loud and deep were vented furiously on his head. The failure also of Yancourt, with the capture of his men, and the probable exposure to the world of his own participation in the contemplated abduction of the heiress, drove him almost to frenzy. Again, to this succeeded the reflection that he had lent Lord Yancourt five hundred pounds, the preceding day, to aid in his flight, which added fuel to the fire that was already scorching his very brain. In every direction, defeat and disgrace awaited him, and he rushed from the house, like a maniac, to cool his fevered and throbbing temples in the fresh air. Not even a transient feeling of regret for his child dwelt a moment in his troubled breast, but anger only, and fierce, implacable revenge against her and Yernon for the disgrace they had brought upon his name. Against Beauchamp, too, he vowed eternal hatred for seizing his men and defeating his plans. THE CLAIMS OF JUSTICE. 153 From this monster in human shape we will turn to those ol more kindly feelings. Beauchamp, though his sufferings from the pistol shot had not much abated, felt impelled, by a sense of duty and love to Blanche, to save her from further attempts at outrage, to attend the magistrates' meeting, where his evidence, with the confessions of the wounded man, was sufficient to obtain the commitment of the other two watchers to take their trial at the ensuing assizes, to be held in March ; Lord Malcolm being the prosecutor, who declared that every effort in the meantime should be made to arrest Lord Yancourt for his dastardly attempt to carry off his cousin. " You must not suppose, gentlemen," said Lord Malcolm, addi'essing the Bench, " that I, or any of IMiss Douglas's family are actuated by the spirit of revenge in this prosecution j but for the honour of my family and hers, and to protect her from any further attempts of this sort, I feel bound to use my best exertions in bringing the chief perpetrators of such a cowardly, unmanly ^ct to justice, and not allow the law to take its course only agaix jt the least guilty parties. The crime of abduction, bad enough in itself, has rlso in this case been most seriously aggravated by shedding 0£ blood, and the very near sacrifice of two lives." " You are most fully justified. Lord Malcolm," said Sir Lionel Markham, who presided, " in the course you intend to pursue, which is highly necessary, in a public point of view, to uphold the laws of the country, and prevent such outrages in civilised society." "With which Malcolm, bowing to the Bench, withdrew with his friend Beauchamp. During this investigation, the large room of the Fox (a way- side inn, in the parish of Marston, where the petty sessions were held), was crowded to overflowing, and Lord Malcolm's determi- nation to arrest Lord Yancourt was loudly applauded by the farmers and poorer classes. " That's right, my lord," said Farmer Stubbins, as he was leaving the room, " doan't ye let the biggest villain of the lot escape just because he's a lord ; and there, to 'tempt to murder the young squire, too — dang it all, my lord, it be too bad ; kanging ain't too great a punishment for such as he.'* The result of these proceedings was quickly communicated to Lord Mervyn by one of his emissaries who attended to watch the case, although no attempt was made by his lordship to screen his men from the consequences of their aiding and abetting Lord Yancourt ; in fact, he repudiated the whole 154 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. thing, and openly expressed his hope that the watchers would be severely punished for daring to leave their places on such an errand. This avowal he deemed necessary, to prove, as he expected, his entire ignorance of Lord Yancourt's intentions. The next morning, Mrs. Gordon, with Blanche and Con- stance, drove over to Bampton, where they found Will Beau- champ lying on the sofa in the library. "I am come over on purpose to give you a severe lecture, William," said Aunt Gordon, "for going yesterday to the magistrates' meeting, which, Mr. Morgan tells me, was a very imprudent act, and has increased the inflammation in your side. Indeed, if your father cannot keep jou. at home, I shall insist on taking you back to the Priory to see what I can do with such a wayward boy." "My dear aunt," replied Beauchamp, "my presence was absolutely necessary yesterday, or I should not have ventured out in so cold a day ; but I will now be a good boy, and remain in the house until my wound is healed." " Will you promise me to keep this resolution ? " "Yes, certainly, dear aunt, ii it will afford you any Batisfaction." " Yery well, sir ; and now, Constance, we will take off our bonnets, as I intend remaining here till after luncheon." As they were leaving the room, Beauchamp said, in what was intended for an injured tone, "Blanche, you have not shaken hands with me ; have I offended you ? " " Oh, no," she replied, turning back and offering her hand ; "how could you think so, William 1 " " Then I will not think so," still holding her hand, " if yoa will shut the door and sit with me a few minutes till Aunt Gordon returns." A deep blush mantled in her cheek, and her eyes were cast towards the door, as if wishing to escape. " Go, then, dear Blanche," said Beauchamp; " I read your thoughts — you would leave me ; but why should you thus avoid me ? Have I ever uttered one word in your presence offensive or repulsive to your feelings 1 " " Oh, no, William, never ; but I have been so nervous and agitated ever since that dreadful night." "Tliat you fear to be left alone even with William Beauchamp ; but there is another cause of dread, Blanche, froto which I would release you, and if you will shut the door and sit with me only a few moments, that cause shall be explained. Blanche's confession. 155 Don't fear me, dear girl ; I will not presume on your confi- dence." Blanche, without saying another word, closed the door, and returned trembling to his side, sitting down on a chair near him. " You fear being left alone with me, Blanche, because you apprehend a renewal of that subject, which from this day shall not again escape my lips. My poor father, the other night, in his excited state, placed your hand in mine, hoping and believ- iog our love was mutual, and at the moment, no doubt, dear Blanche, your gratitude? exercised a powerful influence over your feelings ; but, dearly as I prize it, on such terms I could never accept the hand of Blanche Douglas. Gratitude must not be mistaken for love ; and until such time as the excitement under which you then acted is entirely removed, I will not renew the subject nearest my heart — it would be ungenerous and unfair in me to do so. Moreover, you are young and inexperienced in the world, and I 'Nvill not be so selfish as to fetter you with an engagement to myself before you have had a fair opportunity of judging whether, on mixing more in society, you could still prefer me to all others." " Then, William," said Blanche, sadly, " you do not love me as you have professed to do." " Not love you, my own dear, darling girl ! " exclaimed Beauchamp, starting up and seizing her hand, "dearer, fifty times dearer, than my o^vn life do I love you, and you only; and here I vow that no other but this dear hand shall ever be joined with that of William Beauchamp. You are my first and only love — the only one of womankind who has ever been pressed to my heart — the first and last." " Oh, dear William, then why should you doubt my love for you, or think me less constant than yourself 1 " " I don't doubt you, dear girl, but feared gratitude might now influence you." " William, you are only now wishing me to confess I felt love for you before gratitude ; so, to relieve your mind from all further anxiety in your present state of suffering, I will make that confessicm. Dear William," she said, blushing, "I have indeed long loved you, and can never love another/' The words had scarcely passed her lips, before she waa caught in his arms and pressed to his heart in a long embrace. " This happiness quite overpowers me," he whispered ; " a thousand thanks, my own, very own, dearest Blanche, for your 156 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. generous candour ; and now run up and take off your bonnet, and come sit by and comfort me. Will you, dear girl, without fear and trembling 1 " " Yes," she replied, with a sweet, radiant smile, " until you are quite tired of my company." " That will never be, Blanche ; so make haste and return to me again." The ladies now entered the room with Mr. Beauchamp, who met them in the hall. " But where," he inquired, " is Malcolm 1 " "He is gone over this morning to call on Mr. Conyers," replied Mrs. Gordon, " but will be here presently to escort us home after luncheon, as we intend, Mr. Beauchamp, to taste some of your metheglin, which Constance says is equal to any Frontignac." " Of course," said the old squire ; " you would not suppose I should treat you and Blanche as morning visitors ; but sitting within doors this fine day does not quite suit me j what say you to a walk instead 1 " " Most willingly," replied Mrs. Gordon, " although we have only just taken off our bonnets, with the intention of sitting with William." " One at a time is more than enough for him, and the most silent of the party the best, in his present state, whoever that may be ; but on such a delicate point of distinction between ladies I shall prudently forbear to hazard an opinion ; you must settle it, therefore, among yourselves, or cast lots who shall be the victim to listen to Will's complaints, while the rest are enjoying themselves in the open air." " I think," said Constance, looking archly at her brother " Blanche is decidedly the most prudent and silent of our party and therefore I propose her remaining with William, only on the condition that she does not allow him to speak on any exciting subject ; do you both agree to this 1 " " Most willingly and cheerfully do I submit to these condi- tions, if Blanche will not think it too great a penance to sit by a sick man's couch." " No, William, indeed I shall not ; so now, Constance, you may run away as fast as you please with Aunt Gordon and Mr. Beauchamp." ^'My dear, kind-hearted, and affectionate girl," said Beau- champ, when the others had quitted the room, " and do you think I would trespass on your gentle nature by detaining you here, when Constance and Mrs. Gordon are enjoying this beau- »rSTIC SYMPATHY. 157 tiful sunny morning? No, no, dear Blanche, you will bo happier with them." " Do you wish me to leave you i " " What a question ! " " Well, then," she said, " I would rather remain with you, if I may, and as I promised to do." ** And you shall, my own dear Blanche , aud now sit down in this chair, and tell me all about your friend Yernon's run- away match with Miss Merv}^n, the particulars of which I have not yet heard. Come nearer, Blanche, — indeed I won't bite," said Beauchamp, laughing ; " and having promised Con- stance not to speak on any exciting subject, I must not make love ; so you are quite safe, dear girl." Encoui'aged by his frank though gentle manner, Blanche no longer dreaded being left alone with her lover ; and their happy, confiding looks, when Mrs. Gordon returned ft-om her walk, convinced her how pleasantly had passed the time they had been left together. Lord Malcolm arrived in time for luncheon, soon after which, in consideration of Will Beauchamp' s inflam- matory symptoms, Mrs. Gordon took her leave, forbidding him to leave the house until she called again. CHAPTER XVI. The breaking up of the frost, the same evening, set the fox- hunters once more in motion, and the first open day being as usual advertised for the kennels, a large assemblage of sports- men mustered at Bampton, where genuine hospitality always awaited them, and sincere congratulations were ofiered to the old squire on his son's narrow escape. The farmers especially, when William Beauchamp walked out on the lawn among them, pressed round him, all eager to shake hands and testify their almost unbounded delight at having their favourite restored to them. " Ah, squire," exclaimed Farmer Stiles, " it made my heart nearly jump up into my mouth when John Gubbins brought the news, the next morning, that you were shot and lying at the Priory — it hit me up all of a heap, squire, and I shook and trembled like an aspen tree. 'Why, maister,' said John, 'what's the matter wi' ye? you do look flabbergasted loike — shakes 158 THE MAStEB OP THE HOUNDiS. like old Trooper when he had the staggers.' Sure enough I did stagger more than walk into the house, and swallowing a wine-glass of brandy, rode full split for the Priory, Missus and the servants thinking I were gone clean out of my mind ; but at the turn of the lane I nearly unhorsed the doctor, who told me all about it. ' What ails thee, Stiles ? ' shouted the doctor, 'hurrahing and waving thy hat, and frightening my horse into the ditch ; drunk or crazy ? ' — * Neither, doctor,* says I, 'but overjoyed at hearing that the young squire ain't killed.' " The news had by this time spread all over the county, being reported in tlie two opposite papers according to the editor's political opinions. The heading in the Tory journal standing thus, " Daring outrage and attempted abduction of Miss Douglas ! " which was modified by the iiadical organ into, *' Failure of a runaway match between Lord Y 1 and Miss D s," with comments thereon, insinuating that the young lady had been foiled in her attempted and willing flight with her noble and highly gifted lover by the intervention of some meddling friends. Lord Malcolm, on reading the latter paragraph, wrote immediately to the editor, giving him a true statement of the case, and insisting on an immediate contradiction of the untrue and ofiensive article, which, under the threat of an action for libel, v/as repudiated as emanating from an anonymous corre- spondent. The concourse of horse and footmen drawn to2;ether at Bampton on this occasion far exceeded any former gathering — numbers flocking there from curiosity only, to know the true facts of the case ; and every sportsman in the neighbourhood deeming it an act of imperative coui'tesy to father and son oik the fortunate termination of the afiair. A group of pedestrians also assembled round Mark Rosier, who detailed the events of ':hat night's adventure, extolling Beauchamp's courage to the skies, telling them how he knocked the big lord twice off his legs like a ninepin. Wliile Beauchamp was standing talking on the lawn to the gentlemen and farmers, Mrs. Gordon's carriage drove up to the door, with Blanche and Constance ; and no sooner did Farmer Stiles recognise the heiress, than raising his hat high in the air, he shouted from his stentorian lungs, " Now, gentlemen, three cheers for Miss Douglas and her happy escape from that t^illanous lord ! " All hats were off in a moment, and aa A HEARTY WELCOME. 159 Blanche stepped from the carriage, a shout, loud, long and hearty, arose, which vibrated through her very heart., and was again and again repeated by the enthusiastic Stiles and his brother farmers ; during which Beauchamp made his way into the house. " William," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, " what was the mean- ing of that tenific shouting on the hiwn ? " " The farmers' welcome to dear Blanche on her happy escape. The moment she was recognised, these honest, kind-hearted fellows could not suj^press their feelings of delight at her rescue from Lord Vancourt's cowardly attack j but see, Malcolm is now returning thanks." Lord Malcolm had just ridden up as the cheers subsided, and learning the cause, spoke thus : " Gentlemen, I thank you all from my heart for your loudly expressed, and, I am sure, warmly-felt congratulations on my cousin's escape from the dastardly attempt at her abduction by a cowardly and un- 2)rincipled scoundrel, which I have no hesitation in pronouncing Lord Vancourt to be " — (" Hear ! hear ! " shouted Stiles) — ■ " and I take this opportunity," continued Malcolm, " of stating here publicly, that so far from ISIiss Douglas being a willing participator in this vile plot (which has been insinuated by a leading Badical paper in this county), that she would have pre- ferred death to such a fate ; and for myself, gentlemen, as one of her nearest and dearest relatives, I assert that I would rather have seen her consigned to the grave than married to such a man as Lord Yancourt." At the termination of this brief harangue, during which a dead silence prevailed, a loud "hurrah ! " again burst forth, amJd cries of " Shame ! shame ! " " Now, then," Stiles vociferated, " one cheer more for Lord Malcolm and the young squire, with long lives and good wives to 'em both ! " and another cheer, the strongest and loudest of all, echoed far and wide, making the very armour rattle in the old oak hall. " Eh ! 'pon honour ! " exclaimed Captain Markham, who was pouring out some cherry brandy, "those fellows make the very glasses dance on the table. Demmit, Bob, I wish you would stop their brazen throats : we shall have the old building about our ears like the walls of Jericho." " Ha ! ha ! not bad for you, Markham," said Conyers ; " but these fellows are intent on propping up, not pulling down, the House of Beauchamp ; let them cheer on, and I only hope 160 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. tlie sound of their sweet voices may be borne on the beeeze to Marston Castle." Whilst the old squire and Bob Conyers were doing the honours at the breakfast table to a large party of visitors, Mark, with the underlings about the place, was occupied in distributing strong beer and stout to the assemblage on the lawn, making every man who quaffed the contents of the black jack drink to the health of the young squire. The drawing-room also was filled with ladies who had driven over to see the generally large attendance when the fixture was made for Bampton House, and, on this occasion, many more attended from curiosity, to hear from Will Beau- champ and Constance a true account of Lord Vancourt's attempt on the heiress. As Beauchamp entered the room, Selina Markham rushed forward to seize his hand, exclaiming, " Will, Will, you are not such a sawney as I thought — and so you gave my friend hooknose a good drubbing, I hear, and split his beautiful beak for him 1 — this is charming news, 'pon honour ! but eh ! aw ! the thief has paled your face, Will Beauchamp — this is as bad as a fall over a five-barred gate, with a broken rib." " Not quite, Selina ; I shall be all right again in a few days." *' Mind you are. Master Will, as we are to have a hop next week to a fiddle and flute, and I shall parade you on that night as the champion of the Light Weights. Ned says you are a demmed plucky young fellow, and ought to be in the Life Guards." " Much obliged for the compliment, Selina ; although in time of peace, a fox-hunter*s life is more exciting and perilous than a soldier's." The hounds now appeared, and were looking eagerly about, in expectation of seeing their young master. "Oh, what a beautiful sight," exclaimed Blanche, who was standing with Mrs. Gordon and Beauchamp at one of the windows ; " what handsome dogs ! " "Would you like to have them at the window, dear Blanche 'i " whispered Beauchamp. " Oh, yes, William, pray let them come ! " The window was raised directly, and at their master's call, the whole pack rushed to his summons, jumping up, and licking his hand in exuberant delight, and ready to devour him with caresses. " How these faithful hounds must love you. WiUiam ! " faUMBLU GOOD WISHES. 181 fiatirmured Blanclie, as sho leaned out to pat tlieir Jiones , heads. " Yes, dear gir], thd; o Is no flattery in tlieir professions, but genuine true afFertiop •, and now, as the gentlemen are all ready, I must close tho Avindow, and you will see them walk reluctantly awsy with the "/^hipper-in, casting many a long and lingering look behind." The appearance of B^AitUC>iaT±*p with Miss Douglas, patting and fondling the hounds toother, could not fail to attract all eyes towards them ; a^^d »■ any and sincere were the aspirations breathed by their true friends, the farmers especially, for tho future happiness of the pair, who appeared formed for each other. " Ah," muttered Stiles to young Hazel, as they rode away, *'what a sweet-tempered,- beautiful young lady Miss Blanche is, and I'll warrant the squiie loves her as the apple of his eye — how liAppy they both looked ! Blessings on 'em both, say I, and may they soon become man and wi>fe." The company had now taken their i%a,ve, as the hounds disappeared from the scene, and Beauchamp remained with Mrs. Gordon and Blanche, Constance having galloped off with Malcolm and Conyers, promising, however, to return early "Well, dear aunt," said Beauchamp, "your presence at our home meet was quite an unexpected honour, and to me a most delightful surprise." " Why, AVilliam, to tell you the truth, I rather susj^ected the temptation Avould be too great, and feared you would be rash enough to join the hounds, unless myself and Blanche drove over in time to prevent you ; and another reason was, that if you were a good boy, and kept your promise, I would reward you for your dutiful conduct, by spending the day with you ; — there, William, was not that very good and considerate in me?" "Yes, dear aunt, as you ever are to one who does not deserve half your kindness." " Of that I suppose I may be the best judge, Mr. William ; and now, having breakfasted very early on your account, I and Blanche shall not object to another cup of tea or coffee, and a slice of cold fowl, if there is such a thing left in the breakfast room ; " to which they immediately repaired, but found few eatables remaining, except part of a cold round of spiced beef and a knuckle of ham, which had still held out against tha repeated attacks o£ the hungry fox-hunters j all the mor« K 162 i:he piaster op i:he hounds. delicate viands having entii-ely vanislied. Ringing the bell, the old butler appeared, when Beauchamp inquired if there was any cold fowl or game left in the house, desiring him to bring in also some fresh tea for the ladies. " I think, sir," said the old man, " we can find something the ladies would like quite as well as cold fowl, if they can wait a short time." Accordingly, in about twenty minutes the butler reappeared, with a brace of grilled partridges, sj^lit down the back, and a few small cakes of a pecuhar sausage prepared at Bampton House. "There, aunt," said Beauchamp, "is a sportsman's break- fast for you and Blanche, to which I hope you will do justice." " E-eally, WiUiam, it looks very inviting, and I never saw game sent up to table in that fashion before." "It is one of our old fashions, aunt, and a much quicker way of di'essing game or poultry than roasting, and in my opinion the flavour is far superior." The merits of the dish were tested, and approved of by both the ladies, who pronounced it a decided improvement over the usual mode of cooking ; and after breakfast, Mrs. Gordon having left the room for a few moments, Beauchamp, taking Blanche's hand, said, " I think, dear girl, after what has passed between us, it is a duty I owe our true, kind friend, Aunt Gor- don, to make her acquainted with our mutual love, and ask her approval of my addresses (I will not now say engagement) to her dearly-prized niece." " Yes, dear William," replied Blanche, blushing, and with her hand trembling in his j " I wish no concealments from my affectionate aunt, and have felt rather uncomfortable some- times in her presence since we last parted, because I feared you might not approve my telling her." *' Thank you, my own dear love," replied Beauchamp, rais- ing her hand to his lips ; " but, dear, dear Blanche, how you tremble. Love me ! oh, still love me as a brother, if you fear me as a lover!" " I do not fear you, dear William," raising her eyes timidly to his, " but I have become so nervous lately, you must not regard it." Her hand was still retained in his as Mrs. Gordon returned to the room, when Beauchamp turning to her, said — "Dear aunt, I have been bold enough to confess my long ardent attachment to deax* Blanche, which only wants your approval to make me the most envied as well as the most happy of men. A BLESSING INVOKED ON T±IE UNION. 163 t)o t presume too much in hoping you Vvdll not withhold your kind consent ? " " Indeed, Mr. WiUiam ! I scarcely know what to say, as I suspect this confession ^to Blanche has been made long ago, and I think you have not treated me well — in these conceal- ments from one who has always regarded you, hitherto, as her own son." " Indeed, indeed, dearest aunt, I have had no opportunity of making this disclosure to you before, without writing a formal proposal, which I felt rather reluctant to do ; but will you forgive this little omission, as I never intended to keep back anything from you, who have been to me as a second mother?" •' Well, poor fellow! you have suffered too much pain lately for me to inflict more ; and now, dear Blanche, if you do really love this wayward, worthless boy, I shall not add to jjour nervousness either by withholding my approval of your choice, — so come here both of you;" when, joining their hands together, Mrs. Gordon, in the most affectionate and impressive manner, invoked a blessing on tlieir union, and, overcome by her own as well as Blanche's emotion, hastily left them together, telling them they would find her in the drawing-room. In half an hour they rejoined her, when Beauchamp told her, as Blanche was still so young, he did not wish her to be bound by any formal engagement to himself thus early, especially as she was to be presented at court in the spring, and make her debut in the London fashionable circles. " That entirely depends upon Blanche's own feelings, " replied Mrs. Gordon; "but, were I in her place, William, I would not afford you even this little loop-hole for escape ; you want, I suppose, sir, to have a season in town, too, and if you met with a prettier girl than Blanche, intend to put her aside." " Dear, dear aunt! " exclaimed Beauchamp, "how can you utter such a libel on my constancy and devotion to her I prefer above all the treasures on earth ? ' ' " Then what do you mean, you silly boy ? " " I do not wish our attachment to each other to be made public at present, or any engagement, on Blanche's part, to exist, although I hold myself firmly and irrevocably bound to her ; but if, at the end of the London season, she still prefers me to any other, I will then claim her hand, on the condition that her whole fortune shall be settled upon herself." k2 164 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Keally, William, yoii are so ridiculously romantic, and particular also, I shall advise Blanche to give you up altogether." " Indeed, aunt, I only urge this from my deep love to her, and the fear that she may be too hastily committed under her present excited feelings." "Well, then, you and Blanche must settle these childish objections between yourselves ; and when you have made up your minds whether you are really in love or not, let me know. For the present I shall say nothing to any other person on the subject, not even to Malcolm and Constance, who would only laugh at your folly ; but bear in mind, you have both my free consent to marry when you please; and under present circumstances, I do not consider it necessary to consult Mr. Harcourt. There — that will do; so now be off and take a short walk, while I finish -writing my letters ; but remember, William must not go very far." On their return, Mrs. Gordon asked if they had made up their first quarrel. " Nearly, if not quite, dear aunt ; although Blanche was very indignant at being considered either so childish or so fickle as not to know her own mind j but as she would not consent either to marry or run away with me before this day week, the matter remains in abeyance. Still, on one point we are agreed, that it will be more prudent to make an effort to obtain Mr. Harcourt's approbation before our engagement is made knoAvn to any other person, or he might consider such an act, without consulting him, a most serious and unpar- donable offence." " Well, William, I think you are quite right in that view of the case ; but, until this unfortunate trial is past, any appli- cation to Mr. Harcoui-t would be perfectly fruitless on your part, and in the meantime I will endeavour to smooth the way, and call at Throseby ; as it is far better for us all to keep on good terms with the Harcourts, if possible." The morning passed rapidly away to the two lovers, and Blanche discarding further reserve, her usual cheerful buoyancy of spirits once more gladdened the heart of William Beauchamp, and her light, playful laugh rang through the old Hall, where she was engaged at a game of billiards with him when Lord Malcolm and Constance returned. " Ah, my pet," exclaimed her cousin, " so this is the way you have been killing time, which, of course, has passed very heavily since we left you ; but I need not ask who wins ?" "And win' not, Charles? " A HAPPY DINNER PARTY. 165 "Because you are as two to one against Beauchamp, and can at any time win more games with your eyes, dear girl, than ever you will with your hands." " Well, Charles, since no spell of that kind will influence you, I challenge you to a game when this is finished." " Not now, Blanche, as I must play first with my knife and fork, and tell Will all about our day's sport." "You will find luncheon on the table," said Beauchamp, **and I will join you in a few minutes ; but I wish you would persuade Mrs. Gordon to dine here ; the moon rises early, and there is no fear of robbers." " With all my heart," said Malcolm, as he turned into the drawing-room first; when, having overcome Mrs. Gordon's objections, he returned, saying he would send back his huntei to the Priory, and go home in the carriage with the ladies. " Is not this a delightful arrangement, Blanche 1 " " Oh, yes, Charles ; I am so happy you have prevailed on aunt to stop and dine here." " Well, then, after I have had some luncheon I will accept your challenge at the billiard table, and leave the fox-hunting tale for Bob Conyers to relate over his wine." Being rather disgusted with Charley's performances as huntsman, that individual returned with the old squire about five o'clock, and at half-past six this sociable, happy little party sat down to their dinner, which was discussed with great gusto and high glee ; the old squire keeping his guests alive with merriment and good humour. " Well, Blanche," said he, " it makes my old heart glad to see your sweet, cheerful smile once more, and the colour again in your cheeks. Poor child ! you had a narrow escape, and Will too ; but there, I see it is a sore subject still, so we will say no more about it — but have a glass of wine together instead. Fill her a bumper, Will, and here" — raising his own glass — "is long life and happiness to you, my dear girl, and confusion to all your enemies ;" and the contents instantly disappeared. "Come, Blanche," observing her sipping her wine, " don't make two bites at a cherry — off with it, child — a bottle of this sort would do you no harm. Don't look at Aunt Gordon: you are not under petticoat government here ; and now, Malcolm, fill your aunt's glass, as her turn comes next." " It's no use trying to refuse," said Malcolm, as she with- di'ew her glass; "the governor will have his own way a| Bampton," 166 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Oh, I see," said the squire ; " Mrs. Gordon likes some- tliing lighter ; champagne or burgundy — which shall it be ? " " Neither for me, Mr. Beauchamp, as I have taken enough already." " Pooh ! pooh ! you shall taste both. Thomas, a bottle of champagne and one of burgundy ; and mind the cork is sound.'* " Yes, sir," as the old butler toddled out of the room. " That's right, squire ! " exclaimed Conyers ; " ladies never refuse champagne, and I am just in the humour for a glass or two myself" " Keally, Mr. Conyers, you seem to have joined in a conspiracy to make us all tipsy to-night," replied Mrs. Gordon. " Oh, no, my dear madam ; we only wish to make your eyes and dear Blanche's sparkle a little more brilliantly." " Now, Mrs. Gordon," said Mr. Beauchamp, as Thomas appeared with two long-necked bottles, " which first — champagne or burgundy 1 " " Champagne, if I must take any ; " and immediately a tall glass sparkled by the side of each lady, which in courtesy could not be refused. "We shall do now," said the old squire, "and the ladies shall not be obliged by me to take any more than one glass of burgundy after dinner." When the ladies were rising from the table, Mrs. Gordon said, " Malcolm, you must not be late to-night, as I have once or twice observed, in our drives, a tall, stout man on horseback loitering behind the carriage, which makes me feel rather nervous." A quiet smile passed over William Beauchamp's features as she said this, which Blanche noticing, asked in a low tone if he knew who this person was. " Yes, my dear girl," as he rose to open the door, and stood with her for a moment outside ; " you need not feel alarmed. It is Mark Rosier, Avho is your guard day and night wherevei you go." " Oh, dear William," she said, putting her hand in his, " how kind and considerate thus to watch over me." " Mark is only my substitute whilst I am disabled, and when able I shall guard you myself." " No, dear William ; that you must not do. I never can repay you for all your anxiety and trouble about me." " You can guess the reward, dear girl, which will more than repay me." " I am all your own, now, William," she said, blushing, '^ and MUTUAL AFFECTION. 167 therefore I suppose you will claim it, whether I like to give it or not. And he folded her in his arms, saying, " My own dearest treasure ! how undeserving am I of such a blessing as your love ! " " Dear William, you deserve more than I can give ; but now let me go." " Tell Aunt Gordon and Constance, then, if you like, about Mark Kosier, but no one else." As she tripped after her friends into the drawing-room, Mrs. Gordon asked the cause of her detention by Beauchamp, which was explained by Blanche telling her the name of the dark man who had been noticed followinof the cr.rriao-e. " Just like my dear brother," exclaimed Constance ; " ever too anxious about those he loves. Ah, Blanche, you will have a sad time of it when you are married; he wlII never let you out of his sight except on hunting days, when you may have the opportunity of a little quiet flirtation with others, but rest assured he will never let you go alone to any dinner-party or ball ; in fact, my dear girl, my only fear is that you may have too much of his agreeable company." " Of that / have no fear, dear Constance, for I could not be happy anywhere without him." " "Well, dear, I have hithei't/^ refrained from saying much in William's favour, lest you might think me an interested person, and endeavouring to prejudice you ; but now you have acted from the impulse of your own heart in accepting and returning his love, I may tell you that I do not believe it possible you could have selected one who would make you so thoroughly happy as my own dear brother." " In which I perfectly agree," added Mrs. Gordon ; " but William is so romantic, Constance, as to insist on Blanche having the pick of the London fashionables before she is finally engaged to him. What would you say to Makolm's making a similar proposal to you ? " " That I should not feel very much flattered by such a want of confidence in my affection ; but William, I am quite certain, can have only one motive ; and as Blanche has seen so Little of the world, I rather think he is pursuing the most honourable course, and exhibiting a denial which very few men, if any, would practise under similar circumstances, knowing that the issue of this trial must be life or death to his hopes of happi- ness." ** Pear Constance/' said Blanche, throwing her arms round 168 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. her neck, " I am quite vexed, and almost angry, with William for entertaining such doubts of my constancy, and have told him I never will agree to such humiliating terms. I am his now and for ever, and your own dear sister, my beloved Con- stance." And thus we will leave these two affectionate girls enjoying their rapturous feelings of delight in the contemplation of that nearer tie, wliich would soon bind them closer than ever to each other. CHAPTER XYII. We must now look into the dining-room, where Conyers was relating the events of the day. "We have had," said Bob, "veiy unsatisfactory work. Found, of course, in Parkwood, directly, and went away fast for about twenty minutes, when the hounds, coming to a check in a large field stained by a flock of sheep, Charley seized upon them instantly, and thought to make a display of his genius by making a forward cast, taking it for granted the fox had gone straight to the Holt ; but the fox, having changed his mind and turned away short to the left for the furze hills, our run was spoilt. Found again in the furze hills, a thorough good traveller, who went straight through the Holt, and then faced the open for Barton Court coverts, which he skirted, and held on his coui'se over the downs to Staunton village, where we were at fault for the first time among some small enclosures. For fifty minutes the pace had been first-rate, few being able to live with the hounds ; and from a shepherd we heard the fox was not half a mile before us, and no doubt lay down somewhere ; but Charley, all eagerness, would not give them time, and again made a forward cast through the village towards Staunton Wood, still persisting (notwithstanding my remonstrances) in holding the hounds a good mile in that direction. Whilst occu- pied in this wild-goose chase, our hunted fox was viewed away from a ditch, where the hounds first threw up, and met by several of the heavy brigade in his way back to Barton Woods. Halloaing and screaming were now the order of the day, in which Charley took the lead, rattling, with the hounds full gallop, back through the village ; but the fox had made good iw9 retreat^ and we soon had two or three fresh oues on foot, A BAD HUNTSMAN. 169 when we readied Barton Court, where I left Mr. Charley thoroughly disgusted. 'Holloa!' here; 'tally ho!' there; hounds' heads up, looking about, and wondering what it all meant ; in short. Will, your old friend Stiles remarked, ' It will not do, Mr. Conyers — the pack will be ruined, if the young squire don't take them in hand again, and that pretty soon.* The fact is, Charley is too much in a hurry, and tries to kill his fox before he is half beaten ; and, like many other young hunts- men, depends more upon his own assumed knowledge than the hounds' noses." "You must remember," said Beauchamp, "it is his first day, and he will improve." "I don't think it, Will ; his ideas are all wrong at present, and he will certainly spoil the hounds by trying to ride away fix)m the field, which appears to be his chief consideration. The more haste the less speed ; and a thorough good huntsman, however quick, ought never to be in a hurry. It is the same with hounds — a fast and a quick hound are very distinct animals; and a harey starey fellow, who, as Beckford says, would ride over a church if it came in his way, is generally the reverse of quick." " Well, Bob, I hope to be in the saddle again the beginning of next week ; and now, as I know Mrs. Gordon will be in a fidget about leaving, we must cut short our discussion about the merits of hounds and huntsmen — what say you, Malcolm ?'* " Always as ready to attend the ladies, my dear fellow, aa yourself; so come along." "Well, aunt," said he, as they enteied the drawing-room, " don't you think me a very good, obedient nephew, to break up our after-dinner sitting so early % " " Yes, Charles, you have behaved very well indeed to-night." " Ah ! very little merit is due to me, for Will Beauchamp, being restricted from wine, hurried us off before our second bottle was finished, for which Conyers and myself voted him a confounded bore, and a very selfish fellow to boot ; so now, to be revenged, I shall make Constance and Blanche sing till midnight." " Indeed, Charles, you will do no such thing ; I shall order the carriage in half an hour, as, after what has happened, I feel very nervous in being out late ; but if Mr. Beauchamp and William will dine with us on Monday next, by which time I hope he will be nearly recovered, you shall sit up till two in the morning, if you like," 170 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. "Agreed, aunt; we will have a regular night of it at the Priory on Monday, won't we, Bob 1 " " Ay, ay, Malcolm ; and raise such a din as to astonish th© quiet inmates of that most respectable establishment." The next morning, Mrs. Gordon, with Blanche, called on the Harcourts, by whom they were received much more graciously than they expected, with many professions of regret for the untoward event which had occurred j but to their proposal of Blanche returning again to Throseby^ Mrs. Gordon decidedly objected. "Poor girl!" she said; "she has not yet recovered the shock of that night, and never moves out in the carriage, or on foot, without a guard to protect her from further outrage." " Surely there can be necessity for such supervision," replied Mrs. Harcourt, " as it is reported Lord Yancourt was seriously wounded, and therefore must be unable to renew the attempt, even were he so disposed, which I think highly improbable." " We have very good authority for believing Lord Mervyn was equally concerned in the plot," replied Mrs. Gordon; "and it is not improbable that other agents may be employed to carry out the designs of these honourable noblemen, who are a disgrace to the peerage." " I have been assured by Lord Mervyn," said Mrs. Harcourt, "to whom I wrote for an exi^lanation, that his men were employed by Lord Vancourt withoiit his knowledge." " "Which we can prove," retorted Mrs. Gordon, " is a gi^eat falsehood ; as my Lord Mervyn was himself the originator and concocter of this disgraceful scheme, and Lord Yancourt a too willing tool in his hands ; that's what we know, Mr. Harcourt, and are prepared to prove at the trial ; and it is infamous that a married man like Lord Mervyn, with children, should have entered into such a vile conspiracy to ruin a poor defenceless girl. We know all about it, Mr. Harcourt, and that this Lord Yancourt was invited down to the Castle for the express pur- pose of carrying off your ward, and that Lord Mervyn knew him to be a poor, good-for-nothing, fortune-hunting rake about town. The whole thing was planned by Lord Mervyn and Mr. Harley (whom you will remember meeting at the Castle, and who was purposely instnicted to laud this Lord Yancourt, and represent him as a person of high character and large fortune) ; these two, with that worthy person, Richard Yernon, arranged the whole proceedings ; and as all this will come out upon the trialj Mr. Harcourt — if you have any regard for your own posi- A LAEGE PARTY. 171 tion in the county, my advice to you is, to avoid further intimacy with the contemptible owner of Marston Castle." "Indeed, Mrs. Gordon, I am perfectly astonished at your account of this matter, but still think you must be in error as to Lord Mervyn having so grossly committed himself." " You are in en'or, Mr. Harcourt, / am not," replied Mrs. Gordon, as she rose to take her leave ; " but I hope we shall see you on Monday at the Priory, where I have asked a few frijends in the evening." The invitation being accepted, was considered as the outward adjustment of any personal differences between the two aunts, although, their inward feelings remained in statiij quo. In direct refutation of the scandalous reports spread by Lord Mervyn and his partisans, Mrs. Gordon determined, therefore, on giving as large a party as her house could contain, with a dance after- wards, as a testimony of rejoicing for Blanche's happy escape; and the invitations to her neighbours, Lady Markham, Mrs. Rolleston, Mrs. Compton, and others, were expressive of her feelings on this point. The Beauchamps, with Conyers, were her only guests at the dinner-table ; but a splendid supper was provided for the other company, who began to arrive about half-past nine, Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt being almost the first to make their appearance, and constrained, therefore, to listen to the felicitations offered to Mrs. Gordon and her niece. " Ah, my dear girl ! " said Selina Markham, kissing Blanche, *' so this is an ovation for your escape from Hooknose, Mervyn, and Co.?" "Hush, Selina!" *' I shall not be hushed, poor child, from expressing my con- gratulations, and only regret Mark did not send a ball through that coachman's leg, to prevent his running away. But how fares our champion, "Will Beauchamp 1 I intend heading a subscription to present him with a piece of plate, in token of his gallant conduct in defending the ' rights of women to choose their own husbands.' What will you give, Blanche "? or" — (sinking her voice to a whisper) — " do you propose rewarding him in another way V " Oh, nonsense, Selina; how foolish you talk to-night !" " / should not call it foolish, child, to reward my preserver with, something more substantial than gold and silver, and I rather suspect, from those tell-tale eyes, Blanche Douglas is of the same opinion ; but as the subject appears so disagreeable, let us talk of something else — this grand hunt ball, which is now 172 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. fixed to take place on the fourteenth of next month, St. Valen. tine's day. That is to be a splendid affair, as all are requested to appear in characters or fancy dresses. What is yours to be, Blanche?" " I really have not thought much about it yet, Selina : but here comes your brother." " Eh — Miss Douglas — glad to see you looking so bewitching to-night. 'Pon honour, roses all returned — frightened enough, I dare say, at first ; demmed disagreeable affair — lucky it's no worse — journey to Scotland no joke at this time of year — nolens volens, and all that sort of thing. But Dick did the thing cleverly — all volens in his case. Demmit ! how old Mervyn stormed and faved ! — cracked, they say, ever since. Lost five hundred pounds as well as his daughter — served the old villain right — regularly floored — wish he'd been shot instead of Will Beauchamp. Poor fellow ! looks very white about the gills Btill." " There, Ned, that will do," said his sister ; " we have heard enough of that story." " Then, Miss Douglas, may I have the honour — first quad- rille, or second, eh ?" ''Neither," replied Blanche, laughing, "but the fourth, if you particularly desire it." " Thank you. Miss Douglas, feel greatly honoured, and all that sort of thing ;" with which the captain walked off. " Ned is not such a very bad sort of fellow, after all," re- marked Selina, " although, I must confess, an egregious fool in some respects ; but he knows what is due to our sex, and has very honourable, upright feelings, and, I believe, nothing would induce him to do a mean or cowardly action." " I assure you, Selina, I entertain the same opinion of your brother, and am always glad to dance with him when I can, as he is ever most gentlemanly and kind in his manner, and the very reverse of Bichard Vernon." " Well, there is one comfort, Blanche, we shall never be troubled with that cur again ; but what a fate for that poor girl, to be linked for life to such a man ! What fools girls are to be taken by handsome-looking men, who have no other re- commendation ; I had rather marry the ugliest man, with a good heart and disposition, than the veriest Adonis without these qualities; and it is far better to learn to love a plain man for his virtues, than to be obliged to dislike a handsome one for his vices, after marriage ; but a truce to our moralising, a? tj^e AN ENEMY IN THE CAmP. 17S fiddles are tuning, and, I suppose, Will Beauchamp, having dined here, has engaged you for the first dance ;" which coming to claim, Beauchamp approached and asked Selina for the second. " I scarcely know whether I shall honour you or not, for, as Ned says, you still look very seedy and white about the gills, and I don't consider hopping and jumping about likely to im- prove your health." *' Sauntering quietly through the figure will do me no harm, Selina." *' Well, then, I will take you under my sage care, Mr. Will, to prevent your falling into worse hands." On accepting Beauchamp's arm, Blanche said, anxiously, " I fear you are acting very imprudently in dancing to-night, William?" •' No, dear Blanche ; a little exercise will do me good now ; 'but I shall not exceed two or three dances, and then sit down to criticise the performance of others, and make all kinds of ill-natured speeches, as some people will of me to-night." *' What do you mean, dear William ? " *' The Throseby Hall lady looks daggers at me, and I verily believe, in her heart, would rather have seen you in the power of that villain and made wretched for life, than witness your happiness with those you love." " Indeed, William, I hope not, and trust you are mistaken." '* I am not singular, dear girl, as Bob Conyers also thinks she hates me, cordially, for my interference ; but notwithstand- ing her forbidding looks, she shall receive no incivility from me on your account, although I hope never to see you under her control again." " Indeed, William, I am so happy with dear Aunt Gordon, that I never wish to leave the Priory, where I feel quite at home, which I never did at Throseby." Blanche's beaminglooks and lighthappy spirits, when dancing with Beauchamp, would have satisfied any but the most deter- mined sceptic that Lord Vancourt was not the object of her choice ; and the anxious, thoughtful glance sometimes directed to his face, did not escape the observation of some, who could read the language of love. Captain Melville was one of that number, who, turning to Conyers, said, " My surmises are now confirmed. Bob ; Beauchamp has won the prize, and, barring myself of course, there is no man I know more deserving, and whom I would rather see the husband of that sweet girl." "You are jumping to conclusions in too great a hurry," re- 174 THE MASIER OF THE HOUNDS plied Bob. " She must naturally feel very grateful to Beau- champ for risking his life in her defence ; but that impression may be rubbed off by a season in town." " I think not, Conyers ; but, at any rate, I hold mj deter- mination of exposing that fellow, Vancourt, and will certainly prevail upon the Italian to give her evidence, if possible. She is passionate and revengeful, as women of her country gene- rally are ; and I verily believe, from what she told me, that, had Vancourt succeeded in carrying off and marrying Miss Douglas, she would have followed and stabbed him to the heart." Under the presidency of Lord Malcolm, who officiated as master of the ceremonies, Mrs. Gordon's party passed off most pleasantly, being pronounced by the younger portion of the company the most agreeable and enjoyable reunion oi the season. All the arrangements were good, the persons invited (with few exceptions) being well known and on good terms with each other. The little band of music was the best that could be procured ; and the refreshments abundant, and of the best de- scription. At the supper-table champagne circulated most freely, Malcolm and Conyers acting as toast-masters, at dif- ferent tables, having resolved that Aunt Gordon's guests should have good cause to remember the Priory ball, and heron whose account it had been given. Sir Lionel Markham and the old squire kept the game up some time after the ladies quitted the supper-table, with their good-humoured and witty remarks. " Now, gentlemen," said Somerville Coventry, rising, " with Lord Malcolm's leave, I will propose two toasts, to which, I believe, all here assembled will heartily respond : ' Health and happiness to our kind hostess, Mrs. Gordon and her fair niece, Miss Douglas, and confusion to the scoundrel who attempted her abduction ! ' " which was rapturously received, all rising and cheering. When this had subsided, Coventry again rose, observing, " The next toast I have to propose is, ' Fox-hunting,' with which I must couple the names of our present high-spirited young master. Will Beauchamp, and his worthy father the old squire.'" "That's your sort," vociferated Sir Lucius Gwynne, "trumps, both ; fill your glasses, gentlemen, no heel-taps — but bumpers fair — ' The Beauchamps and fox-hunting'" — and a hearty hip ! hip ! hurrah ! followed, which echoed through every room in the house. "Well done, my friends," shouted Gwynne; *' Floreat sclentia, esto perpetual William Beauchamp returned thanks in a short, unpretending THE FtJGinVES. 175 epeecli ; thanking Coventry and Sir Lucius for the high com- pliment paid to his father and himself, and expressing his hopes that "they might always deserve the good opinion of their brother fox-hunters, as well as the gentlemen of the county who did not participate in their sport." This speech was much ap- plauded, and soon after the gentlemen returned to the ball- room ; Mr. Harcourt beginning to entertain a more favourable opinion of Beauchamp, from the evident cordiality with which his name was received by so large and respectable a company. Blanche was sitting with Mrs. Harcourt and her Aunt Gor- don, when Captain Markham approaching them, the former inquired the meaning of the shouting at the supper-table, which had almost deafened her. " Eh ! aw ! yeeas ! rather uproarious ! bad taste, I dare say. Drank Will Beauchamp's health and fox-hunting — couldn't stop the fellows — would have it — hip ! hip ! and all that sort of thing. Gwynne said, he was a demmed plucky, high-spirited young fellow, after that little affair of yours, Miss Douglas, on the common ; — everybody agreed with him — three cheers more, — but didn't forget the ladies — Mrs. Gordon's health dranlc vociferously. Now, Miss Douglas, — believe I have the honour — next quadrille." With which the Captain walked off with the heiress. The ball was kept uj) until three o'clock in the morning, when the company dispersed ; Sir Lucius declaring, in fox-hunting parlance, " that Mrs, Gordon's party was the run of the season."" CHAPTER XVIII We must now devote a little space to the fugitives, Lord Van- court and Vernon. The former dreading pursuit from the determined resolution of Beauchamp (of whose prowess and courage, from Vernon's sneers, he had formed rather an erroneous opinion, until brought into contact with him), sj)ed on his journey without stopping until he reached London, putting up at an hotel in a retired part of the city, from which he removed the next day, to a lodging near the Begent's Park, which his valet engaged for his master under the assumed name of Captain Hammond, where he remained until his fractures were sufficiently reduced to enable him to start for the Coatinent, 176 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. Vernon, after the ceremony had been performed by the blacksmith, which, according to the laws of Scotland, riveted him to Miss Mervyn, thought it advisable to visit Paris, until Lord Mervyn' s anger had cooled down a little. He was loung- ing one day down the Boulevards, when he met Lord Van- court, and accosted him as usual, who, drawing haughtily up, and refusing Ms proffered hand, said, "After the dishonour- able trick you have served me, Mr. Vernon, I must beg to decline your further acquaintance." " Pray explain yourself, my lord," replied Vernon, " as 1 am the person aggrieved, and your conduct to me in refusing to fulfil your engagement and pledged word of honour, at Marston Castle, is a much more dishonourable transaction than any I can have committed against your lordship." " My meaning, sir, is very plain ; by forestalling the horses I had ordered, and assuming the same name I had taken, you would have left me at the mercy of my pursuers." "As you would have left me, my lord, by not paying down the sum you promised, and on which I fully depended, to- prosecute my journey to Scotland, and which, but for unex- pected assistance, I had been unable to accomplish ; but as I am informed a searching investigation is to be made into your lordship's attempted abduction of Miss Douglas, which has assumed a most serious character, from your violence in shoot- ing Mr, Beauchamp, any little light I may be able to throw ou the subject will, I doubt not, be well received by your oppo- nents, who, by the account transmitted to me, appear deter* mined to prosecute your lordship to the utmost extremity." " And could you, Mr. Vernon, calling yourself a gentleman, be guilty of such a mean, contemptible action as to turn, evidence against me and your own father-in-law ? — there is more honour among thieves, sir." ^'Very possibly, my lord, as thieves generally share the booty obtained by their joint dexterity — equally. Your lord- ship has failed to practise even their honesty, by keeping back my share of the money you obtained from Lord Mer^'^ii." " Oh, very well, Mr. Vernon ; I will endeavour then, as speedily as possible to discharge my obligations to you." " The sooner the more acceptable, my lord, as my finances are in a very low state just now, and my purse requires replenishing ; perhaps your lordship will be good enough to favour me with your present residence, and name what day I jnay call for &n arrangement of this little affair." JffiDITATED REVENGE, 177 "My address is No. — , Rue St. Honor6," giving him his card; "and it you call upon me there, at twelve o'clock this day week, we will endeavour to settle our differences, Mr. Vernon ; " with which Lord Vancourt pursued his walk, medi- tating revenge for his late friend's insolence. Yernon was equally bent on selling Lord Yancourt to the best advantage, unless he fulfilled his contract with him, as from his inability to grasp his unfortunate wife's money so readily as anticij^ated, he was obliged to resort to his usual method of bringing " grist to his mill," by aid of the dice box and cards. Lord Yancourt, after leaving Yernon, met an old acquaintance in the person of Major Stowell^ who had just arrived in Paris, from London. " Ah, Yancourt," exclaimed the Major, *'it is yourself, I suppose, although your face is confoundedly altered somehow." " Got a smash on the nose, old fellow, from being thrown out of my cab three weeks ago," "Won't do, Yancourt; we read and heard all about your failure with the heiress at the club — long account of it in the Times — I thought it a devilish plucky thing, and sorry you did not succeed. Ten thousand a-year was worth trying hard for — but how was it 1 we saw two different versions of the affair, one that the lady was willing — the other quite the reverse." " The truth lies between the two, I believe," replied Lord Yancourt — " she would, and she would not ; in fact, I was too much in a hurry, and that villain, Richard Yernon, I believe, sold me at last by putting her friends up to my moves, so that just as I was getting her into my own carriage, a lot of fellows bore down upon us — shot me through the arm, and have nearly, if not quite, killed one of my assistants." " Devilish awkward business, Yancourt, and I hear Lord Malcolm swears he will transport you, if he can, for this attempt on his cousin." " That he can't do, Stowell, as I have her guardian's letter, accepting my proposals for his ward, and wishing me success in my addresses." " Well, that's something in your favour, Yancourt ; but depend upon it, it is a serious matter ; and if you will take my advice, don't show your face in England until the trial is over." " The man I dread most of all," replied Lord Yancourt, " is Richard Yernon, who was staying with me at Marston Castle^ L 178 l^HE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. and helped to plan the v?hole thing from beginning to end ; and he declares, unless I pay him two hundred and fifty pounds as hush-money, on this day week, he will give Lord Malcolm a full account of the plot." " Why, I met Yernon two nights ago at a gambling-house, here in Paris, when he won a large sum of money of Count B , who swore there was foul play on Yemen's part, although unable to detect how ; but he is determined to watch him narrowly for the future, and if detected in any tricks, I would not give much for Yemen's life-interest in fifty thousand pounds, the Count being a dead shot. But you had better find the money, Yancourt, and pay Yernon at once, or the consequences will be serious." *■ It is out of my power to make up the sum in so short a time, unless luck favours me at the gaming-table. So what say you to meeting me to-night 1 and perhaps you will not object to introduce me to Count B 1 " " Oh, most willingly Yancourt. So now, au revoir, as 1 have a call or two to make." A thought had suggested itself to Lord Yancourt, that, by an introduction to the Count, he might put him up to Yernon's tricks with dice and cards ; and, when detected, a duel would be the inevitable result, in which he hoped to get quit of Yernou's importunities and threats together ; believing, from Stowell's account of the Count's character, that nothing would satisfy him short of the death of the man who had already robbed him of so large a sum of money. Punctual to his appointment, Major Stowell met Lord Yancourt at the gambling-house, where he soon had the opportunity of introducing Count B , who was much pleased with his lordship's manner and address ; and, as both, had travelled a great deal, they were soon engaged in earnest con- versation, and from that night became intimate friends. Yer- non was there also ; but, suspecting Lord Yancourt, he lost instead of winning, his usual run of luck appearing to have deserted him. Lord Yancourt also lost rather a considerable sum to the Count, which being immediately paid, put him in good humour with his new acquaintance. The next day, Count B called on Lord Yancourt, who, after a few common-place observations, alluded to his want of success the previous night. " Ah ! milor," aaid the Count, who spoke English very im- perfectly, "you lose to me, but your contreman, Monsieur A GAMBLING TRICK DETECTED. 179 Vernon, play de very devil wid me de other night. Such luct I ne^er see — he win every game, and clear my pocket so"— showing its empty inside. "Most likely, Count. He is what we call a sharp, keen hand, and up to a trick or two." " So I tink too, milor ; but I could not see how de trick was done, which I would give a tousand francs to know." " Well, Count, I do not want your money ; and, as I con- sider such tricks downright robbery, I will put you up to them, provided you give me your word of honour never to mention my name." "My goot Lord, I would not mention your name for de million francs." Lord Yancourt then told him his suspicions that Vernon carried loaded dice in his sleeve, which, by a sleight of hand, were substituted for those on the board ; and these, if marked before they began playing, would, of course, prove the fact." " Ah ! milor, I am so much oblige for de hint." And he soon after took his leave. Lord Yancourt, having put things in a train for the destruc- tion, as he hoped, of his former ally, absented himself from the gaming-table, lest he might act as a counterj)oise to the exposure, well knowing Vernon's sus2:»icious and subtle disposition. And a few nights after, being now sorely pressed for cash, Vernon, in playing Avith a friend of Count B 's, again had recourse to his tricks, and was winning largely, when Count B entered the room. Hearing his friend's exclamations of surprise at Vernon's continual success, the Count watched him very intently ; and discovering an unusual motion sometimes in his right hand before shaking the dice-box, he walked quickly round the table ; and seizing Vernon's arm, suddenly tore up his sleeve, when four dice, instead of two, appeared on the board. In a moment, all gathered round the detected man ; the Count, livid with passion, abusing him in broken English and German, swearing he would have instant satisfaction for the loss of his money. Vernon was so thunderstruck at the sudden discovery of his villany, that he sat as one entranced for a moment, until roused by the insults and abuses poured upon his head, when he rose, and confronting the Count, accepted his challenge, and offered to fight any other man in the room who might feel himself aggrieved. " Von at a time, sar," replied the Count. " I have de first L 2 180 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. claim on Monsieur Vernon ; and I tink it vara likely he find me von too ranch j for 1 will have his life, or he must have mine, before we leave dis house." The owner of the rooms now interfered, declaring no duel should take place there ; an arrangement was therefore made for the hostile meeting in the Bois de Boulogne on the following morning, at an early hour : a young Irishman, named Fitzgerald, who was slightly known to Vernon, volunteering to act as his second. He made the necessary preparations of pistols, and engaged a friend of his own, a native of the Emerald Isle also, then practising as a surgeon in Paris, to attend, in case of accident to his principal. About eight o'clock the next morning, which was dull and gloomy as the thoughts of Vernon, who, from his antagonist's hatred and well-known skill, dreaded a fatal issue to the combat, a carriage, containing himself, the surgeon^ and Mr. Fitzgerald, drove rapidly up to the appointed place. The Count was on the ground before them, impatient to take vengeance on his adversary ; but Fitzgerald, although, like the generality of his countrymen, as ready for a fray as a feast, knowing the Count's deadly aim, felt it incumbent on him to make some show at least of attempting to save the effusion of blood or loss of life ; and, accordingly, asked the Count's second if a reconciliation could be effected. The offer was received with derision, which roused the Irishman's choler in an instant, who replied — "I should ask that for another, sir, which I would not accept for myself; and I wish all here to remember that my overtures for a settlement have been rejected." "Place your man, sir," was the reply. "We mean fighting, not talking." "Without another word, the ground being measured, the pistols were delivered by their seconds into the hands of the Count and Vernon, who stood fiercely surveying each other, the face of the latter being pale as death ; but, knowing his life depended on a steady hand, by a violent effort he stifled every other thought, and awaited the signal. The intense, agonising suspense of such a moment, to a thinking mind, who can describe ? Men rush into battle, facing death in every shape, even to the cannon's mouth ; balls whistle round their heads, comrades fall beside them, wounded, disfigured, dying, dead ; hand to hand, with flashing, bloody sword, the strife continues — no thought of fear or flinching for a moment <;rosses the A DUEL, AND ITS RESULTS. 181 soldier's mind — excited, maddened, lie still presses on over heaps of slain. These men are fighting the battles of their country, not their own. They have no private vengeance to gratify, no private wrongs to redress, no fine-spun ideas of honour to maintain ; but their war-cry is, " Fro oris et focis" for our altars and our homes. CHAPTER XIX. The signal was given ; both pistols were discharged simul- taneously, making almost one report ; and, as the smoke cleared away, Yernon was seen lying on the ground, shot through the body ; and the Count staggered back into his second's arms, his opponent's ball having passed through his right shoulder, shat- tering the bone into splinters. In a moment, the surgeon, with Fitzgerald, was kneeling by Vernon's side ; the former tearing open his waistcoat, whilst Fitzgerald supported his sinking head upon his knees. " It's all over with him, Pat," exclaimed the doctor ; " the bullet has passed through his lungs, I fear ; but stay ! '* feeling his piUse, " he lives still ! quick with the bottle ; pour a little down his throat, if you can, whilst I stanch the blood." A faint sigh escaped thewoimded man. "Ah!" cried the surgeon, " he revives ! give him a little more of the liquid. By the powers ! he's coming round ; but, poor devil, with that air-hole through his body, recovery, I fear, is hopeless." The Count's friend, seeing what was taking place, hurried him from the ground, believing Vernon to be mortally wounded, if not already dying ; but from the pain and the resuscitating remedies used, the sufierer gradually recovered his consciousness, and begged, in a faint voice, to be carried home. His next inquiry was about the Count. "You winged him, Vernon," was his friend's reply ; " but now, drink the rest of this bottle, and we will try and get you into the carriage ; only don't attempt to speak any more just yet, as the doctor won't allow it." Fitzgerald and his friendly assistant, O'Brien, having carried the wounded man to the carriage, placed him in a recumbent position, and by the aid of cushions and their over-coats, formed toleiuble couch for him to recline upon; and he was thei» 182 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. dri\ en back to his lodgings and placed in bed : Fitzgei'ald having preceded him, and prepared his young and timid wife for the calamity which had befallen her ; who, almost frantic with grief and horror, implored to be allowed to see her hus- band, if only for one moment, to be assured he was not killed. " On my word of honour, my dear young lady," replied the kind-hearted Fitzgerald, taldng her hand to prevent her leaving the room, "your husband is not killed, although seriously wounded ; and any fresh excitement might be fatal ; pray, be guided by me ; you shall see him directly the doctor will allow you to do so : but let me entreat you, for his sake, to subdue your feelings as much as possible." The surgeon, on examining his patient, discovered the ball lodged in his back, just under the skin, and it was, therefore, easily extracted, without much more suffering to Yemen's already tortured frame. Soon after his wound was dressed, he fell into a fitful doze; in which state he was left by the doctor, after having given all necessary directions to his wife's faithful maid how to treat him until his return. For two days Vernon hovered between life and death ; and, on the third day, being quite delmous, Fitzgerald called in one of the most eminent physicians of Paris, who pronounced his case almost hopeless. Still no efforts were relaxed to reduce this fevered state of body ; and being blessed with a good con- stitution, the crisis was at last passed, and he began gradually, though slowly, to amend. During this severe trial to his young, affectionate wife, who loved her husband intensely (the only being around whom her young heart had ever been entwined, even from childliood), Fitzgerald, who became deeply interested in her helpless position, Avas a constant visitor at the house, saying and doing all in his power to alleviate the poignancy of her grief, watching, himself, by her husband's bedside during his delirium, day and night, until he was considered out of immediate danger. Her joy at the prospect of his recovery, and gratitude for Fitzgerald's care, were almost unbounded ; and she would sit for hours together by her husband's bedside, with his hand in hers, and pour out her thanks for his rescue from a violent death. Even Vernon's stern, unfeeling nature gave way before the deep affection shoAvn by this young, artless girl, whom he had seduced from her father's roof, more from the love of her money than any other feeling ; but now, sobered down by the sufferings he had undergone, his heart responded to her ONE ROGUE THE LESS IN PARIS. 183 fervent, deep attachment. " Oh ! Emily," he would exclaim, " I am, indeed, unworthy your love and anxious care ; but should my life be spared, I ^vill endeavour to make some amends for the injury I have done you, in taking you from all your friends to link your fate with such a monster as rayself." " Oh, speak not thus, dearest E-ichard ; you are all, every- thing to me j my father and mother have never loved me ag you do." " Well, poor child, I must try hard to recover now, for your dear sake, and repay you for all your gentle, loving attentions." Vernon was soothed and gratified by her unceasing attendance and endearing regard to every little comfort it was in her power to bestow, which greatly tended to his recovery, and he was soon permitted to sit up in his easy chair for a few hours during the day. Lord Yancourt, being apprised of the issue of the duel, called several times at Vernon's lodgings ; and having on the third day met the doctors there, and been told tliat his case was hopeless, he immediately left Paris, dreading to be implicated in the affair, which was communicated to Vernon by Fitzgerald ; and also that he had learnt from the Count's friend some additional information as to Lord Vancourt's putting the Count up to his tricks at play, and inciting him to challenge Vernon. Fitzgerald also hinted at the necessity of Vernon's applying to his friends for pecuniary assistance, as the tradesmen with whom he dealt, on hearing the cause of the duel, had refused to supply more goods, and were clamorous for their little accounts being settled. " I have done as much as I can to assist you, Mr. Vernon," added Fitzgerald, " more, I must confess, out of regard to your wife's wretched position ; but now, as you are so far recovered, your own exertions are absolutely necessary to prevent her being left in a state of utter destitution ; as, unknown to you, she wrote to her mother for pity and aid in her forlorn situation, to which no answer has been received." Vernon, feeling grateful for Fitzgerald's kindness, made a full confession of his past delinquencies and Lord Vancourt's refusal to pay the money he promised for his assistance in the plot to carry off the heiress. " It was a rascally business, Mr. Vernon,** replied Fitzgerald , **and I must say you have only reaped your deserts for aiding to ruin a young, defenceless girl by throwing her into the power of such a scoundrel, who, by your own 9.acounfc, is 184 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. suspected to be a married man. Even an Irishman, sir, wild and impetuous as we are, would never have been guilty of such an act as this." " Well, then," said "Vernon, " I will write to Lord Malcolm and offer to give him every information about Lord Vancourt, on condition of his sending me a draft on some banker in Paris for two hundred pounds." " Then, Mr. Yernon," said Fitzgerald, " I must beg, for the future, we may be strangers to each other, as we were before this unhappy affair." " Stay, Fitzgerald ; tell me what you would have me do, for I am indeed most grateful for all your undeserved kindness." *' Sign the letter I shall dictate, containing a full confession of your sorrow and contrition for your unmanly conduct, with all you know of Lord Yancourt and his proceedings, and the promise that you will give evidence, if required, at the trial, without any reservation or stipulation whatever. This, sir, is the course which any man, pretending to the name and character of a gentleman, would without hesitation pursue, and I shall add a postscript informing Lord Malcolm of your con- dition, and your wife's unfortunate and d^titute state." " It shall be done," said Yernon, without hesitation. Fitzgerald then resumed his seat, and wrote from Yemon's mouth all the particulars, to which his own name and that of the servant girl were attached as witnesses. " Yery well, Yernon, that is a step in the right direction, iViid I trust the severe lesson you have received will prevent you ever again using false dice or conniving at the abduction of an inoffensive girl. You have now a young wife dependent on your rectitude of conduct, unless you would also consign her to misery and disgrace; throughout your severe sufferings this poor girl has watched and tended you, night and day, with all the care and anxiety of a ministering angel, and for her sake I implore you to lead a new life." " I know and feel it all, Fitzgerald, and, for her sake, I now swear never to touch dice or cards again." " Keep to your good resolution, Yernon ; we may then still be friends, and you may rely on my assisting you in every way I can. Now no more — I will post the letter, and see you again in the morning." A few days afterwards a letter was received from Lord Malcolm, expressing his sorrow for Yemen's deplorable situa- tion, with a draft on his banker^ in London for a hundred " COALS OP PTRE. 185 pounds, and, by the same post, a few lines from Will Beau- cliamp, enclosing a note for fifty pounds, which ran thus : — " Vernon, " I heartily forg ve your ill-founded hatred towards myself, for which I never could asSign a cause, and trust you may return to this country a happier and bo ,ter man. Accept this trifle from yours truly, " William Beauchamp." " There, Fitzgera d," said Yernon, handing him Beauchamp's letter; "that hurts and cuts me to the quick — that man I have injured, traduced, and vilified more than all, and it was from hatred to him that I joined in this infernal plot to give Miss Douglas into Vancourt's power, fearing she loved Beau- champ j envy and jealousy led me on, as I once tried hard to gain her myself" " Well, Yernf n, this is a pretty confession j but now, what are your present feelings towards him 1 " " All that I can do to help his cause and Malcolm's shall be done." " That's right, Yemen ; you have been tramping long enough and too long to the tune of the ' Rogne's March,' and I hope you now see that ' Honesty is the best Policy.' " Believed of a load of care by these timely and unexpected remittances, Yernon felt more at ease, and next addressed a very peniten ial letter to Lord Mervyn, pleading his affection for his daugl ter as an excuse for his conduct in carrying her off; depictir g in glowing colours her incessant care and anxiety about him when at the point of death, and expressing his resolution t lead a new hfe and devote all his energies to make her happy. He also stated that, to atone for his past conduct, he had mad e a confession to Lord Malcolm of his participation with Lord Yancourt in the plot to carry off Miss Douglas, without, h )wever, revealing other names, as he had been most inhumanly treated by his lordship, who had conspired against his life, and left him almost dying in Paris without a shilling. On the re(,eipt of this letter from his worthy son-in-law, Lord Mervyn bacame seriously alarmed, and fearing Yemen's vindic- tive character, thought he would be safer under his own eye than exposed to that of the opposing party; he therefore enclosed him a handsome sum of money to defray his travelling expenses when able to move, with an invitation to Marston Castle. 186 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNTM. CHAPTER XX. We must now cross the Channel to see what was occurring in the \icinity of Bampton. Thomas Carter, Lord Mervyn's foot- man, feeling uncomfortable in his situation as a suspected man, gave notice to leave ; and Mark Rosier having mentioned this to Lord Malcolm, he was at once engaged by him ; Mrs. Gordon willingly agreeing to receive him at the Priory until Malcolm's return to Scotland. Lord Mervyn had invited as large a party of the neighbour- ing gentry as he could muster to a grand battue at the close of the shooting season, in which hundreds of pheasants and hares fell, the majority of which were packed off to the London markets. William Beauchamp had assumed the reins of government over the pack, which was the reverse of being improved by Charles's mal-administration, who had only succeeded in brings ing home the head of one fox after a fortnight's hunting, and, sooth to say, Charley himself was nothing loth to fall back into his old place of whipper-in. What with trying to ride or scream foxes to death (notwithstanding which they could not be prevailed on, like Mrs. Bond's ducks, to come to be killed), the hounds' heads got up to such an alarming height that Will Beauchamp found great difficulty in bringing down their high- wrought exjDectations to their proper level again, and he experi- enced almost as much trouble to reduce his field to their usual good order, the majority of the youngsters having, diu'ing the master's absence, considered themselves privileged to enact the part of huntsmen or whippers-in whenever they could get away from the old squire or Bob Conyers. If there were half a dozen foxes on foot in one covert, every one was vocife- rously cheered by the party who chanced to view his particular favourite across the drive, although the hounds might be running another in the very opposite direction ; so pleased had some of these amateur huntsmen become with the sound of their own sweet voices, that the master was treated to such a concert of discordant halloes in all directions on his first appear- ance at the Barton Woods (where several foxes were on foot), that he sat for a few seconds in amazement, wondering to what extent this might lead ; then putting spurs to his horse, and blowing his horn, he got the hounds together, and took them away from the covert to a large field, where he drew up and A SALUTAKY LECTURE. 187 waited anbil he was surrounded by the greater portion of his followers. " Now, gentlemen," exclaimed Beauchamp, addressing them in a loud voice, " as it is very evident that there are several persons out to-day who consider themselves more competent to hunt the hounds than myself, I shall be obliged by your inform- ing me who is to be huntsman, that I may at once resign the horn to that individual, it being necessary, to prevent further confusion, that one man alone should act in that cajDacity." The would-be huntsmen looked extremely foolish at this address ; but no answer being returned, Beauchamp sat quietly on his horse, as if awaiting their reply. " Come, come, Beauchamp," cried Sir Lucius, " don't mind those confounded fools' hallooing ; but let us have a run this cold, shivery day." " As you please, Gwynne ; but I wish it to be clearly under- stood that, if I am to be huntsman, the first halloa I hear shall be the last this day, for I will immediately take the hounds home, which are already spoilt so much by this babel of tongues, that they won't even try to hunt a fox." " Quite right," exclaimed Conyers and Coventry ; " it is the only thing you can do to stop all this riot." " Very well, gentlemen," said Beauchamp, " as you now know the terms, I will also try to get on terms again with my fox ; and, Charles, I will thank you to bear in mind that you are now whipper-in." "Yes, sir," said Charley, touching his cap very submis- sively. "Ah, Mr. Conyers," exclaimed Farmer Stiles, "that's just what they all wanted, a bit of a lecture from the young squire; things will go on comfortable again after this." On holding the hounds round the lower side of the covert, they struck upon the line of a fox which had gone away some ten or twelve minutes in the direction of Hazel Wood, about four miles distant, which Beauchamp, to punish his field as well as sober his hounds, made them hunt inch by inch ; this pro- duced the desired effect, as both men and hounds perceived their huntsman's determination to admit of no interference. The fox, never having been pressed, jogged leisurely along the pack improving in their pace until they reached Hazel Wood, where he had lingered for some time, enabling the hounds to get on better terms, when he broke, going straight for the forest six miles a-head. 188 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Now, then," shouted Bob Conyers, as he caught sight ot the pack streaming away, " come on, you thrusting scoundrels, — now's your time — let 'em go — no more hold hards to day ; " and down rattled the first division of light cavalry, charging their fences with long pent-up impatience. The hounds, how- ever, having got the start, seemed resolved to keep it, and the brook being brim full and over after a heavy night's rain, the casualties which occurred there were rather more numerous than usual, there being multi, instead oi ^'rari nxxntes in gurgite vasto^^ few who rode at it escaping without a ducking. The Captain and Coventry took their plunge as usual ; some rode at it fast, others walked their horses into the stream, the banks of which could not be discerned ; but all landed safely on the other side, and again set to work to catch the hounds, which few were destined to see any more that day. The forest was reached ; but the fox, disdaining its protection, passed through one corner of it, and boldly faced the open, into the neighbour- ing hunt, taking their huntsman entirely out of his reckoning, as to the point he contemplated reaching, and everything now depending on the staunchness of the pack. Will Beauchamp interfered as little as possible in two or three checks which occurred, and five '^r six miles of new country had now been crossed at a gocvi *xunting pace after leaving the forest. " Where," exclaimed Conyers, " can the fox be travelling to, Will ? he must be out of his latitude as well as ourselves ; although as to longitude, confound him ! he still seems holding on straight enough." " He has run me out of my geography, Bob ; although there is, I believe, a strong covert somewhere in the direction he is now going, belonging to the H Hunt, which I conclude is his point." " Ah ! well, this proves what a good fox can do, when he has a fair start and is not hurried over the first five miles. Your bursts of twenty or thirty minutes are all very well some- kimes, but give me a good hunting run like this ; look, there is a likely covert, just a few fields ahead — please the pigs, we don't change there." "No, no, we shall book him yet. Now, Charley, to the fiirther end of it, and mind you don't halloa a fresh fox." Here the hounds, for the first time, got up with their game, and gave him such a rattling, that he broke away again, running for some open downs above the vale. For two milea A GLORIOUS TERMINATION TO A LONG CHASE. 189 the pace was terrific ; the hounds, with heads up, and sterns down, running hard for their game, which they knew must be sinking, and on ascending the hill side, he was viewed, not a hundred yards before the leading couples, and in a few seconds both disappeared over the brow of the hill. Few were there, however, to witness this sight ; Will Beauchamp, Conyers, the whips, Gwynne, and Tyler, with two or three farmers, being all that remained, out of a very large field, to go in and finish. At the foot of the hill, Beauchamp at once dismounted to relieve his horse, which was nearly beaten, leading him up the ascent, his example being followed by all the others, except young Farmer Hazel, who still kept spurring his poor jaded animal. " Come along, squire," shouted he, on passing ; " I shall be first to see the finish." " Of your horse. Hazel, in five minutes, unless you jump oflf his back directly." The words had scarcely passed Beauchamp's lips, before the horse reeled and fell under his rider, who had hardly time to jump from the saddle ere he lay dead before him. " I hope. Hazel," said Beauchamp, " that will be a lesson to you through life, never to ride another willing horse to death," as the young farmer stood in silent dismay surveying the dead carcase of his too honest animal. The example and warning were not lost on the rest, and Beauchamp exclaimed, " There is no occasion to hurry now, as the hounds have killed their fox." On gaining the summit of the hill, the pack was seen about a mile a-head on the open ground in a group, despatching the remains of as gallant a fox as ever broke covert. Beauchamp and Conyers, with Stiles, trotted leisurely down to the spot, which Charley had already reached with Gwynne and Tyler, both light weights on thorough-bred horses. " By Jove ! " shouted Bob, in an ecstacy of delight, " this is a most glorious wind-up to the very best run I have ever seen in my life. Now, Gwynne, what do you say to Will being a d d slow coach, in making his hounds hunt out the line for the first three or four miles 1 " " I say, Bob, he is a much cleverer hand in dealing with a pack of hounds than I am with a pack of cards, and few can beat me at that game. But how are we, Bob, as to the topo- graphical ? " " Not quite at the Land's End yet, but over thirty miles from home, as I saw the town of Snowdon to our right, when we were climbing the hilL" 1§0 THE MASTER OF tHE H0UN±)9. Lord Malcolm and Fred Beaucliamp now straggled in, having taken a wrong turn round the last covert ; and as this Bmall party, with the hounds, returned to the verge of the hill overlooldng the vale, other horsemen were seen still struggling through the heavy fences, some at a slow canter, and • others brought to a trot or walk ; and to put a stop to their further exertions, Will Beaucliamp stood with the hounds a few minutes on the summit, sending forth one loud "whohoop," which might have been heard at Snowdon. " Demmit ! " exclaimed the Captain to Melville and Coventry, who were all in turn playing at " catch my horse, can't you ? " " That's Will's yell, for a thousand ! They have got him some- where ; but, 'pon honour — eh ! aw ! Narcissus — demmit all — he's buried in this infernal dyke — help, Melville, quickly, or he'll be smothered ! " By the exertions of all three. Narcissus was at last dragged out, more dead than alive, and lay at full length on the green- sward, it appearing to be a matter of perfect indifference to him whether he made any further effort to rise. " There, Markham," said Melville, " we cannot wait any longer, so you and Narcissus must settle the point between you, whether you sleep here or not ; my advice is to j)ut the whip into him, and drive him on before you till you get into the turnpike road, which is within half a mile of us." The Captain was not the only person employed in this agreeable occupation of trudging along on foot with a beaten horse, when Beauchamp and the pack, with the fortunate few entered on the high road leading to Snowdon. " Ah, Markham," asked the master,. " what's the matter — shoe lost ? " " Demmed near a horse lost, Beauchamp ; regularly done up — worm crusher now — no Lifeguardsman — demmit ! sha'n't get home for a week at this pace." " Here, then, Markham, let Jack have your horse to lead into the town, and you shall ride his." " Thank'ee, Beauchamp, but I don't like taking away your man." " Never mind, we don't want his services now, so get up at once." Every stable ia Snowdon was occupied that night with horses so thoroughly knocked up that they could proceed no further, traps of all kinds being hired to convey their ©wners home, whilst others remained there until the next ▲ HINT TO FOX-HUNTERS. 191 morning ; the run from point to point being at least twenty miles, and the ground traversed not less than five or six more. "Well, Will," inquired Malcolm, "what do you purpose doing ? " " Give the horses a bucket of gruel each, vnth a moutliful of hay, and then homewards." " What, thirty miles more to-night for hounds and horses, after such a run ? " " Just so, Malcolm ; they are of the right sort not to give in; but it wont do to let them get stiif by loitering about at a public-house. Quick march, is our motto, and I hope to be home before the supper hour in the servant's hall." *' Yery well, then Bob and I will overtake you on the road, and bring Markham with us." Beauchamp was too good a sportsman, and by far too fond of his hounds and horses, to consign them to the care of servants, however trustworthy, after a severe day, always accompanying them home, and feeding the hounds himself before he left the kennels. He therefore jogged leisurely along with his pets, which once more cheered by the presence of their young master among them, trotted on with sterns erect, as if ready for a second fox. The system adopted by Beauchamp in the management of his pack was of the silent order, with as little interference as possible in the field, to which must be attributed their uniform success in killing their foxes. Noise in man or hound being his aversion, he would allow of no holloaing or screaming from his field, which invariably occasions so much confusion, and the hounds were thrown silently into covert, and only spoken to occasionally to assure them of their master's presence. Although a fine melodious voice may be very pleasing to the ear, yet instead of its being (as too often considered) a great recommen- dation in a huntsman to a pack of fox-hounds, it is most decidedl;^ the reverse, particularly in a woodland country, where, in nine cases out of ten, the fox will be unkenneled by the huntsman instead of his hounds. We cannot so arrange, when the fixtures are made some time before, always or very often to draw up wind ; and a noisy, vociferous huntsman, when taking a line of covei-ts down wind, will disturb every fox (unquestionably every good one) long before the pack can get upon his drag ; in fact, a good fox will be off", and perhaps miles away, before the hounds reach his kennel. It is related of the famous Butter- 192 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. wick Jack, a fox which had beaten Mr. Farquarson's hounds iD Dorsetshire for several consecutive seasons, that upon the slamming of a gate or the sound of a horse's hoofs near the covert, he broke instantly away ; and notwithstanding every precaution and the entire silence of the huntsman when throw- ing his pack into covert. Jack was ever on the look-out for squalls, and made so good a start that he invariably beat his pursuers, and saved his precious carcase from their fangs. To prevent JEbxes being chopped in small spinnies or gorse coverts, a few cracks from the first whipper-in's whip, as he s.pproaches them, will be quite sufficient to make any fox on the alert which is worth hunting, and here, of course, a good huntsman will make rather more use of his voice. Foxes, however, like weasels, are seldom caught napping, except, perhaps, on a very windy day, and even then very rarely indeed. Another part of Will Beauchamp's system was to stick to his hunted fox, whether good, bad, or indifferent. Bob Conyers would sometimes remonstrate when he was hammering away at a dodging brute, ringing round covert. " Leave him for another day. Will ; we want a gallop to warm us this cold morning." "Bad habits grow upon foxes as well as men. Bob; and unless I finish this brute off now, he will be much harder to kill the next time we meet him, and I don't want any more of his stock left in the country." The common practice of chopping and changing from one scent to another, leaving a half-beaten fox in covert, and taking the hounds off to find a fresh one, is very prejudicial to the pack, causing them to lose confidence in themselves, and almost as bad as lifting them to halloas. Hounds often treated in this manner are always on the look-out for assistance when in difficulties, and will never persevere with a bad scent. A pack in the adjoining county to Beauchamp's, with a wild huntsman, were one day at fault, when a loud shouting was heard from a man on a hay-rick. " Hark holloa ! " screamed the huntsman, and away want his darlings, best pace up to the hay, now followed by all the field helter-skelter for another start. " Where's the fox gone V shouted the huntsman. ** I ha'an't seed no fox, sur." " Then what the devil made you halloa ?" " The ould gentleman heself, I do believe ; and he'd a made yoh hallo, if you'd seen un, as I did, spring off the cut of hay ; the hair riz up on my head, like a hog's bristles." A NOVEL SUBJECT FOR THE CiYASE. i^H ''What does the fool mean?" asked tlie huntsman, in a /urious passion. " Why, I do'an't know what it manes, but I tell ye, when I put the ladder agin the mow, a long- tailed crittur jumj)ed out of the nich of hay, and cut away into yonder copse, and the very sight of un was enow to make anybody holler j but, dang it ! look — there hur zits in thick big oak." And, on the horsemen riding to the wood hedge, a large baboon was seen sitting in the tree, chattering and making faces at his friends below. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " shouted Tom Larking, a leading man in the hunt, " a devilish good joke, Jem, to be halloed on to a monkey ! but, hang it, let's have him out. He'll show us a run, now we have lost our fox. "My hounds run a monkey, sir!" exclaimed Jem, indig- nantly. " They ain't come to that pass yet, any ways." " I'll bet five to one they do run him, though, Jem," per- sisted Larkins ; but Jem, fearing mischief, trotted briskly away to find another fox, leaving Jacko to be handled by any one else who fancied him. Whatever may be said of Will Beauchamp's system of hunting, the result was that his pack seldom required, and never expected, assistance from their huntsman j very few foxes being able to escape them. CHAPTER XXI. For some days after, the great run from the Barton Woods was the favourite topic among all sj)ortsmen in that locality ; but the all-engrossing subject to the ladies was the Grand Union Hunt Ball, under the management of a committee chosen from the members of the four adjoining hunts. The ball-room at Cherrington being inadequate to contain half the company expected on this gicat occasion, the Town Hall, which stood over the market house, was put in requisi- tion, and the large space underneath was boarded over and enclosed for a supper-room. The preparations made for this grand re-union of fox-hunters were on a magnificent scale, and the decorations for the rooms costly and appropriate. Being the first thing of the sort attempted in that neighbourhood, the 194 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. commifctee spared neither trouble nor expense in tlieir arrange- ments, being determined, in the spirit of true sportsmen, that the thing should be done well — and well it was done. The members of each hunt had the option of appearing in their re- spective di'ess coats, but the general company were requested to be in uniform or fancy costume. The highest families for many miles in every direction sought eagerly for cards of admission to this splendid fete^ which were only at first obtainable from members of the foiu' hunts ; but it was deemed advisable in some cases to depart from this rule, and an additional number was issued for persons of distinction resid- ing within prescribed limits ; and more than one fox-killing fater familias was fairly run down by wife and daughters all at him at once, and obliged to promise never to destroy another fox. The gentlemanly conduct of the committee, who did all in their poAver to accommodate the numerous applicants having any pretensions, from property or influence in the county, to ask for tickets, was the general theme of conversation, and the Grand Union Ball became the suljject of great interest in the most fashionable circles for weeks previously. Beauchamp sent two of his tickets to Mrs. Gordon and Blanche, reserving one for Sir Francis Burnett, who had pro- mised to attend ; and Lord Malcolm, to propitiate the Har- courts, enclosed two also for their acce23tance. The anxiously expected evening at length arrived, and by ten o'clock the rooms were crowded witli as gay and brilliant an assemblage as ever graced a ball-room; the costumes of the ladies being of the most reclicrcliee and elegant description. Blanche and her friend Constance appeared in the simple Scotch costume of white muslin and tartan. Selina Markham assumed the character of a lady of George the S-econd's reign, figuring away with Bob Conyers in a minuet, similarly disguised in the attire of a courtier of that period. Her sister Caroline, with the Bollestons and a friend on a visit, represented the seasons of the year, and formed a quadrille Avhich was much admired ; but, beyond these, it were needless to attempt a description of the various costumes and characters, borrowed almost from every age and every clime, which graced and en- livened the festive scene. Of the gentlemen, the most consj^icuous was William Car- rington, the master of the S. W. hunt, whose towering height and immeiise proportions attracted all eyes. A PRUDENT YOUNG NOBLEMAN. 105 "Ah ! Oarrington," exclaimed Beaucliamp, shaking him by the hand, " glad to see you ! All ready to trip it on the light fantastic toe, I suppose*?" " I don't come here, Beaucliamp, to make a fool of myself by attempting such a feat as that (which suits only herring-made fellows like yourself), but to see my friends — besides, unless there were extra props to the floor, a few hops and skips on these rickety boards, from a man of twenty stone, Avoukl send you all down to the regions below. There's a clever pack to look at got together here, particularly the B ladies, I mean" — correcting himself — " although they don't match as to colour. Handsome, fine-shaped girls, eh, Beaucliamp ?" "Yes, I think the B pack before us (as you call them) such a lot as is rarely seen in one room." " AYell, Beaucliamp, but I want to see the heroine or heiress who so nearly ran you to ground. They say she is a clipper ; and I wish you would point her out to me." " I will introduce you to her presently, Carrington," replied Beauchamp ; " but now my hands are full of business." Lord and Lady Seaton (acquaintances of the Harcourts, who lived about twenty miles from Cherriiigton) were invited to Throseby for this grand event, with the Marquis of Danby, who was then staying with them, a young nobleman of great pro- mise, now in his twenty-fourth year, and who held a commis- sion in the Life Guards. Lord Danby was about the general standard as to height, although rather slightly formed ; aris- tocratic looking, with handsome features and very pleasing manners ; and although his father, the Duke of Delamere, w^as still in the prime of life, the heir to a dukedom was, of coui'se, eagerly coveted by many mammas in the highest circles, who had daughters to dispose of Lord Danby was, however, too cautious and sensible to be caught by mere personal beauty, or that greater attraction in the present day — money. He was, moreover, veiy partial to field sports, and a determined fox- hunter ; and having heard from Lord Seaton of the Union Hunt Ball, he came down purposely for the occasion. Mrs. Harcourt, as may be supposed, rose a hundred per cent, in her own estimation, when entering the room that night, leaning on the arm of such a lion as the Marquis of Danby, whom she sought an early opportunity of introducing to Mrs. Gordon and her niece, parading him with an air of great dignity and importance, which was considerably diminished when Lord Danby shook hands with Beauchamp in the most friendly M 2 i06 ITHB MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. manner, who just then approached to claim Blanche for his partner in the opening dance of the night. Lord Danby, being very much struck at first with Blanche's entreme loveliness (enhanced that evening by her simple, unaf- fected costume), begged the honour of dancing the next quad- rille, which was acceded to. On leading his partner away, she asked Beauchamp the name of the gentleman who had just been introduced by Mrs. Harcourt, which she had imperfectly heard. " The Marquis of Danby, Blanche, son of the Duke of Dela- mere," was the reply. " You know him, William, I see." " Yes, dear girl, I have met him occasionally in the hunting field, and his father and mine are old acquaintances ; but I am at a loss to conceive how he can be staying at Throseby — that, however, I will ascertain presently." Lord Danby, not seeing much fun in being paraded any longer by Mrs. Harcourt, took the earliest opportunity of con- signing her to a seat, and soon after encountered Captain Markham. " Ah, Danby ! 'pon honoui* — quite astonished to find you here — grand afiair, eh ! — well got up, and all that sort of thing. But where are you staying, old fellow ?" " At the Harcourts, Markham, with my friends, the Seatons, who were invited to Throseby for this ball." " Ah ! ah ! I see. Old Harcourt is well enough in his way — gives good spreads, and keejDS a first-rate artist in the culi- nary ; but that match-making, haughty wife of his is my aver- sion, 'pon honour." " Very likely," replied Danby ; " but I hear you have had splendid sjDort in this part of the world." " Yaas, Danby, first-rate, and no mistake — such a run from our wood — thirty miles at least — every horse beaten — some killed — others can't show — Narcissus regularly fioored." " Well, Markham, I feel inclined to send for my horses down here, and have a week or two with you, if I can get good stabling in the neighbourhood." " That you can, my lord, I will answer for ; at Barton Court our stalls are not half filled, and you shall have a stable to your- self, and a right good welcome from my governor." "No, no, Markham, I cannot do that." " And why not, Danby, eh ? — oh, I see — Duke's son — won't condescend— zn/r a dig. — and all that sort of thing." ' - AN UNFORTUNATE MISTAKE. 197 " No, on my honour, Markliam, that was not my reason for refusing your friendly offer." " Then, demmit, Danby, there can be no other ; but here comes Sir Lionel, as game an old cock as ever wore spurs." Markham, having introduced his father to Lord Danby, left them together, saying, " There, governor, Danby wants to see our pack, so hold him by the button until he promises to sjDend a month at Barton Court." Lord Danby was so much pleased with the urbanity of the old baronet that he at last accepted the invitation, and stood listening to his account of their great run, until Beauchamp, having finished his dance, was leading Blanche back to her aunt. If Lord Danby was at first so much taken with Blanche's love- liness of person, he was much more captivated with her artless, unaffected manners and cheerful, unsophisticated mind, which made him desire to be more intimately acquainted with her, and at the end of their dance he pleaded for a second, which was not refused, Blanche being much pleased with his quiet gentle- manly demeanour, and thinking, as a friend of Beauchamp' s, there could be no impropriety in accepting him a second time for her partner. It unfortunately so haj^jDened that Beauchamp had previously engaged Blanche for the sixth quadrille, which not noticing, from a waltz intervening, she had taken to mean the seventh dance, unwittingly accepting both him and Lord Danby for the same set; and as Beauchamp was hurrying through the crowd in search of his partner when the time arrived, he found her with Lord Danby just taking their position in the set then forming, Lord Malcolm and Constance standing near. " I think," said Beauchamp, in a low tone to her, " you are engaged to me for this quadrille." " Oh, no, William, you must have made a mistake, as this is the seventh dance." " But only the sixth quadrille," added Beauchamp, " which you promised me, did you not, Blanche ? " " Yes," she rej^lied, " I recollect now that was the case, but as it did not occur to me when I accepted Lord Danby, I do not know how I can well refuse to dance with him, since we have taken our places." "Well, then, Blanche, will you dance the next quadrille with me 1 " " For that I am engaged to Captain Melville." " The succeeding one, then ? " " I have promised that to Major Hammoncl." 198 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Ah, yes, I see," exclaimed Beaucliamp, in an offended tone, " your engagements to me are to be broken, but not to otliers." And he was turning indignantly away, when Lord Danby said, " I fear, Beauchamp, there is some misunderstanding with Miss Douglas and yourself about this quadrille, and if you have a prior claim to mine, which I gather from your words, I will, although most reluctantly, resign her hand for this set, trusting to be more fortunate in another." " Oh no," replied Beauchamp, " Miss Douglas has made her election in favour of your lordship, although previously engaged to me, and of course therefore I must retire/' with which he turned haughtily round and left them. Lord Malcolm, who was near enough to hear all that passed between Blanche and Beauchamp, looked serious. Blanche was so hurt as to be ready to cry, and Lord Danby, although flattered by her preference for him, felt rather uncomfortable. " I am really sorry," he observed to Blanche, " for this unpleasant mis- understanding, but I hope you will acquit me of the least inten- tional offence to Mr. Beauchamp." " It is entirely my fault," replied Blanche. *' I remember now I did promise Mr. Beauchamp the sixth quadrille, which this unfortunately is, although the seventh dance." " Oh, never mind, Blanche," whispered Malcolm ; " I will set this mistake right with Beauchamp presently, although he is confoundedly captious sometimes, and here I fear he has been treated rather unceremoniously ; as I think, having the first claim, you should have waived that of the Captain or Major in his favour, at least, or have at once accepted his arm in place of Lord Danby' s." " But really, Charles, I did not intend to offend him, although wishing to avoid being considered rude by Lord Danby when the set was formed." " No, my dear girl, that I hope he does not believe, and I will endeavour to smooth down this unpleasantness." After the quadrille was concluded, Malcolm sought his friend, trying to persuade him to ask Blanche for another dance, which he hoped might be the means of reconciling this little difference. " No, Malcolm," he replied, " I will sue no further, having done so three times in vain ; and when positively in the right, to be postponed even for a Duke's son is not very palatable." " Come, come, Beauchamp, don't give way to temper." "Noj Malcolm, temper has little to do with my preseut A REPROOF. 109 feelingSj which ave acute enough, without your accusing me of being bad-tempered — that I am not, and never have been, although I can feel an insult from those I love more deeply than any man living. But now I am engaged, and must go in search of my partner." As he turned away, Malcolm said, *' Mind, Beauchamp, you are of our party to the supper-table ;" to which no answer was returned. On ]\Ialcolm's seeking Blanche, whom he found sitting with her Aunt Gordon, she anxiously inquired, " "Well, Charles, have you succeeded in pacifying William 1 " " No, dear girl, I am sorry to say I have not yet prevailed ; he seems exceedingly hurt, and says you refused him three times, and that you ought at once to have taken his arm, in- stead of Lord Danby's, as being positively engaged to him before his lordshij). This admits of no doubt, Blanche ; and he also feels very much annoyed that you should have shown so distin- guishing a mark of favour to Lord Danby, by accepting him for two dances so close upon each other, contrary to etiquette and his advice, and thereby placing him you have known so long in an inferior position to an acquaintance of a few hours. This is too true, my dear girl, and Beauchamp, with all his warm, generous feelings, although most sensitive, is also most deter- mined, and will put up with no slight or indifference from those he loves." "Indeed, indeed, Charles," replied Blanche, with the tears standing in her eyes, " I did not intend, as you must know, either to offend or slight William ; but I thought it would appear so very rude to Lord Danby to refuse dancing with him when we had taken our places." " Yes, Blanche, that may be all very true ; but recollect, it is far better to appear rude to a stranger than to act unkindly and unfairly to one of the dearest friends you will ever find in this world ; and had Constance treated me as you have Will Beauchamp, I don't know what would have been the conse- quence ; for I tell you plainly it would have put me in a terrible passion." " Oh, Charles, I am indeed miserable that you should also think so hardly of me," replied poor Blanche ; " but pray, go and tell William I am sorry in having offended him, that I will hold myself bound to dance with him before any other person, and will sit down until I have first fulfilled my promise to himself." 200 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. At this moment Captain Melville approaclied to claim hei? hand, when she pleaded a bad headache, and begged to be ex- cused dancing with him till after supper, when, if better, she would be happy to accept him as a partner. " Independent of which," she said, quietly yet firmly, " I have made a great mis- take in the dances to-night, and was really engaged to Mr. Beauchamp before you asked me." As Melville, with a low bow, withdrew, Malcolm applauded Blanche for her resolution in acting so firmly and honourably towards her lover, even at the risk of offending others, and said, " Now, Blanche, you are on even terms again ; and should Beauchamp decline your proffered olive branch, I shall take part against him." Malcolm was not long in explaining to Beauchamp his cousin's regret for what had occurred, and her determination to dance with no other until she had fulfilled her engagement to himself; which brought him to her side immediately — softened, although not satisfied. Blanche held out her hand as he ap- proached, and on his sitting down, she candidly admitted her fault, and want of consideration, in dancing with Lord Danby. " Pray say no more, Blanche ; you have a perfect right to please yourself, and I have no pretensions to dictate to you ; but as you were so averse to behave rudely, as you thought, to Lord Danby, you will of course feel equally reluctant to offend either Captain Melville or Major Hammond, to whom you told me you were engaged for the next two dances ; and therefore, to avoid any more unpleasantness to yourself (as I find you have already refused Melville on my account), I will explain to him how the matter really stood between us, and take my chance after supper. Don't you think, Malcolm," asked Beauchamp, appealing to him, " this is the proper course to pursue, to avoid further remarks ? " An assent being given, Beauchamp went in search of Mel- ville, when Malcolm observed to Blanche, "He is stiff and formal still, dear girl, and my impression is you will find him so for some little time ; but take my advice, don't ever dance twice with a stranger to his seclusion, for he is confoundedly jealous and particular in some things, and as haughty as a jDrince when treated with indifference ; but here he comes," as Beau- champ again approached, saying Captain Melville consented to take his turn after the Major; "and now, Blanche," taking a card and pencil from his pocket, " if you will, on due reflection, mark any one dance on the list after supper, and give it to m9 AN UNJUST ACCfUSATION. 201 on my returu, I will hold myself engaged to you, even tliongh it should be the very last." " You are not going to leave us again now, William," said Mrs. Gordon ; " I have not seen you the whole evening ; so sit down with me a little, unless you prefer strangers to your aunt." "No, dear aunt, that is not my character, you well know j those I profess to love, I love deeply and for ever, and no stranger can ever induce me to waver for one moment in my affections or respect to those who are entitled to my esteem and confidence." Soon after. Major Hammond came up, offering his arm to Blanche ; and when they were alone, Mrs. Gordon said, " You have sufficiently punished dear Blanche for her trifling error, to-night, William, and you are now more severe to her than she deserves." " The happiness of life, dear aunt, depends on trifles appa- rently as light as air ; and the disposition is shown as much in little things as in great events ; and you see my anticipations about Blanche are being realised. I fear it will be some time before she really knows her own mind. What ! ought Lord Danby, or a dozen lords, to influence her conduct towards one she professes to love, and make him insignificant in the presence of a perfect stranger ! A woman cannot love the man she would help to humiliate. No, no, aunt ; it harasses me to think more about Blanche's treatment, which has sunk deep in my heart. No sooner have I risked my life to save her from one lord than I am nearly involved in a quarrel with another, whom she thinks proper to patronise and place on an equal, if not a superior, footing to myself ; but from this night Blanche is free to act as she pleases, without the least reference to me, as I will never presume to advise or influence her for the future ; in fact, I believe she does not rightly yet understand her own feelings towards me, which, most probably, are those of sisterly regard only, as she appears to be much taken, at first sight, with Lord Danby." "William, you are now not only severe but unjust also, and are magnifying a trifle into a serious offence. Blanche has atoned and suffered most severely for her error, and it was all I could do to console her. Will you make me also miserable, as well as herself?" " No, dear aunt, I will say no more j perhaps I have said too much," 202 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Then you will be kind to her as usual, when she returLS j and be once again my own dear William ? " " Yes, my kindest of friends ; I would not pain you for the -world, and you shall have no cause to find fault with me again to-night." When Blanche returned with her partner, Beauchamp rose and received her with his usual kind manner, and taking her hand in his, whispered, " I have been too severe upon you, dear Blanche ; will you forgive my excited feelings 1 " " Yes, indeed, dear William, I do, for I know I have acted very wi'ong, and have dreaded lest I might involve you in a quarrel by my wavering conduct ; but it shall never be repeated, if you will trust me for the future ; my experience of the world makes me feel the want of your kind, friendly advice, which never again shall be disregarded, to do what I feel to be right, not what it may be convenient to do. And now, to show you my contrition for treating you so cavalierly, I will, after ful- filling my engagement to Captain Melville, accept no other partner but yourself for the remainder of the evening." " That, indeed, I cannot allow, Blanche." " But you cannot help it, William," she said gaily ; " my re- solution is taken, and being a right one, it shall not be broken." " Well, dear girl, we will talk of that presently, as Melville is approaching ; but bear in mind you are of our party at the supper-table, where I have reserved places ; so return to us im- mediately your dance is finished, or even before, if you see a movement in that direction." Melville was rallying Blanche on her forgetfulness of her engagements that evening, in the last figure of the quadrille, when, seeing a rush towards the door leading to the supper- room, she hastily said, "I must join my party. Captain Mel- ville, this moment, which is an engagement I made before entering this room, and therefore I am of course bound to keep before all others." " Oh, never mind, there will be plenty of time yet, and I will find you a place." " Then I must go without you, as I certainly shall not offend my Aunt Gordon by not being ready to attend her as I pro- mised." "Oh, Miss Douglas, I cannot allow you to go alone, and will of course attend you." Constance and IMrs. Gordon, with Malcolm and Beauchamp, met tliem as they were returning, when the latter said, " There A CONVIVIAL PAETY. 203 is room for you at our table, Melville, if you will join our party." " Most willingly, Beaucliamp," was tlie reply ; and in this order, Mrs. Gordon having Beaucliamp's arm, they descended the stairs to the supper-room, when Melville whispered to Blanche, " I do not now regret the interruption to our dance, as it has afforded me the enviable position of sitting near you and basking in the sunshine of those smiles I value beyond all price." "Pray spare me such fulsome compliments, Captain Mel- ville," said Blanche, loud enough for Beauchamp to hear ; " I do not like fine speeches ; " which stopped the Captain from any further attempts in that line. CHAPTEB XXII. Four long tables were arranged in the supper-room for the members of the four hunts, at the head of which each master presided; and Will Beauchamp took his place, with Mrs. Gordon on one hand, and Blanche on the other, at the head of his table : the old squire sitting next to Blanche, and Malcolm on the other side, below Mrs. Gordon ; next in succession came Sir Lionel Markhara, vnth. his party, Sir Francis Biu-nett, Gwynne, and other members of the hunt. Bob Conyers facing William Beauchamp as vice-president at the lower end, around whom all the youngsters (as Bob called them) were congregated with their partners. Of eatables and potables there was a grand display; with a profusion of game, wild fowl, &c., with the usual accompaniments of confectionary exhibited on such occasions, to which, when the company had paid ample attention, the toasts of the evening succeeded. The health of il:c ladies was of course received with rapturous applause, for which Bob Conyers returned thanks on their behalf in a very humorous and gallant speech, being the oldest bachelor of the company, jocosely taking his date from the age of George the Second. "You behold, ladies and gentlemen," said Bob, "in your humble servant a true specimen of the bashful man, who has had the misfortune to be in love ever since entering his tee7is, and who has now advanced very deep into the ties, without being tied up himself; the fact is, ladies, I never could muster 204 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. courage to pop the question, for, when the time arrived for popping, the cork would never come out ; in short, I am like a stale bottle of stout, there's no pop left in me ; and then as to a choice — ^these lines are continually running in my head — ' How happy could I be with either, "Were t'other dear charmer away ! ' My sensitive and soft heart is ever receiving impressions, but the wax is always melting, for it ain't like cobbler's wax, which keeps many a man in the saddle. This very night I have fallen in love ten times, at least, already ; and were I offered the selection of all the beauty here assembled on this auspicious occasion to do us honour, for my life I could never make up my mind, ladies, which to choose, as you all appear so irresistibly bewitching. I see some men looking unutterably soft things, and others whispering exceedingly foolish ones to their fair partners, whilst I am standing by my unfortunate partner's side like an oaf, twisting and twirling her fan (I believe I have broken half a dozen to-night) ; but the very attempt to make love absolutely chokes me; in short, unless some kind soul, pitying my distressed situation, does actually propose for me, Bob Conyers must continue a bachelor to the end of the chapter. It behoves me now, gentlemen, on behalf of the ladies, to express their thanks for the compliment paid them, and the married who have experienced the felicity of connubial bliss offer their matronly advice to all their younger sisters to change their state as soon as possible ; and my advice to yoimg bachelors is to take warning by the fate of Bob Conyers, and to strike while the iron is warm and pliable." The next toast was fox-hunting : to which no one for some time appeared inclined to respond, each master expecting the other would rise; but Beauchamp, being the youngest, knew very well he could not be required to do so, out of respect to his seniors. The Honourable Mr. Manvers, master of the Y Hunt, at length stood up, and thus addressed the company : — "Ladies and gentlemen, one would suppose, from the dead silence among the masters of fox-hounds, that not one of them could give tongue ; whereas, to my certain knowledge, all jdos- sess stentorian lungs except myself, who am unfortunately a squeaker. The master of the C Hunt is notoriously a very fast man across country, greatly my senior in years, and my superior in sporting achievements — quick enough to speak hiH mind in the field without much ceremony or circumlocution^ Air AOTTEMPT AT A SPEECH. 205 and of course, therefore, the most proper person to return thanks on this occasion : but he is evidently a timid, bashful man in ladies' society; and although looking as fierce as a lion at fences, I fear, like my friend Conyers, he will never muster courage to pop the question. Then there's the master of the S. W. Hunt, who, if he could be prevailed on to open his mouth, must be a speaker of great weight, his longitude and latitude being of the Anak order, and I may say, ' Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, and resolve itself into a speech.'' (A murmur from Carrington, "That's my infirmity, sir.") Lastly, there is the master of the hunt in whose district we have assembled, who, by all accounts, can fight, if he can't speak in defence of the ladies." After some flattering remarks on the fair sex, Manvers resumed his seat. A move was soon after made ; and, as the ladies were leaving, Blanche whispered BeauchamjD — "You will find me disengaged, William, whenever you return." " No, no, my dear Blanche, this must not be. Do not think me so unreasonable." "It must be so, dear William, until you join us;' on which she took her aunt's arm. Beauchamp, from his position as president, was obliged to continue his sitting at his table during the delivery of a few other toasts, much to his annoyance ; as several gentlemen had already deserted to the more agreeable society of the fair sex in the ball-room; who, from the movement heard overhead, were evidently much more pleasantly occupied than in listening to the drones who were attempting to litter dull speeches below. Manvers, determined to have the master of the C ■ Hunt on his legs, proposed his health, which, after being duly honoured, forced him to rise. " Ladies and gentlemen," he began. (" The ladies are gone," was shouted out.) " I beg "pardon — well, then, gentlemen, I'll begin again. Ladies and gentlemen." (Shouts of laughter.) "Let him have it," cried Gwynrie, "that's his text; he can't preach from any other. Now then, old cock, out with it. We give you, ladies and gentlemen." (Shouts of laughter — " Order, order," from Sir Francis Burnett — " Hear, hear," from Gwynne.) *' Gentlemen," said the master of the C Hunt, " for the honour you have done me, in drinking my health, I return you '^06 fHE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. my best thanks, and beg to say — that (another pause) — I beg to say that I feel " — another pause — when a voice replied — " A bigger fool than I ever thought myself." Roars of laughter again burst forth, during which the master of the C Hunt resumed his seat in a violent passion ; and thus this speechifying terminated. Lord Danby was one of the first to quit the supper-table, Blanche Douglas having thrown a spell of fascination over him, which made him most anxious to become more intimately acquainted with her; when, finding her sitting with her two aunts, Harcourt and Gordon, and Lady Seaton, he joined their party, and stood talking with Blanche, until the sets were again beginning to form. "Beally, Miss Douglas, this is the most delightful ball," Lord Danby observed, " I have ever attended ; everything is so well arranged ; and the great variety of beautiful and elegant costumes selected by the ladies renders it quite a fairy scene. The music also is so enlivening, one feels it almost impossible to resist its influence. Are you not, also, very fond of dancing, Miss Douglas ? " "Oh, yes !" she replied. "I enjoy a ball exceedingly." " Then, as I perceive you have no partner, will you consider me too presuming in petitioning for the honour of another dance ? " " I must beg to decline, Lord Danby, being already engaged." " E-eally," he continued, " I think your partner, whoever he may be, deserves severe punishment for his negligence or indif- ference, in preferring his fiiends' society in the supper-room to yours." "He may, perhaps, be detained there against his inclina- tion," she re])lied ; " or, probably, is not aware that dancing has re-commeneed." " You are very considerate and forbearing, Miss Douglas, where, perha})s, your clemency may fail to be appreciated ; although I can scarcely believe it possible any gentleman could for a moment forget an engagement with yourself." " Then, of course," she added, " my partner being unavoid- ably absent, I cannot think of punishing him unjustly by accepting another in his place." "But if you will accept my arm conditionally," pleaded Danby, " until he makes his appearance, I promise to resign your hand the moment he approaches." A PIRM REFUSAS- 20? Blanche still qmetly declined, when Mrs. Harcourt over- hearing her, interposed ; " Surely, my dear, you will not refuse Lord Danby on such fair conditions ; it is your partner's duty to be in attendance, if he wished to dance with you ; and you are not to sit still to suit his convenience." " I have danced twice with Lord Danby already this evening, Aunt Harcourt, and having experienced some unpleasantness in accepting one partner when engaged to another, I prefer sitting down to causing any further disagreement." " Oh, that is the gentlemen's affaii*, my dear ; you have nothing to do with their differences." "Indeed, but I think she has, Mrs. Harcourt," observed Aunt Gordon, " and Blanche is acting most wisely in declining to give offence to any one ; " and putting her niece's arm within her owu, she walked off to another part of the room. " You have done quite right, my dearest girl," said Aunt Gordon, " in refusing Lord Danby ; and I hope you will never follow Mrs. Harcourt's advice, who does not care what scrapes she may lead you into, or what annoyance you may suffer, when a lord is in the case ; vain, foolish woman ! one would think she had caused mischief enough already by trying to force Lord Yancourt upon you ; but here comes William. Well, sir," she said, " are you not ashamed of yourself, to be sitting drink- ing with your boon companions so long, when you knew you were engaged to Blanche ? " " Indeed, dear aunt, I was not aware that such was the case, or nothing should have prevented me leaving the room earlier j although, as it is, I have given great offence by resigning my presidential chair so soon." "Well, William, I was only joking, but, as this quadrille is now half finislied, sit down with me and Blanche in this snug comer, and tell us what that shoutiug was about." Beauchamp gladly complied ; and his fair listeners laughed exceedingly at his description of the Master of the C Hunt's attempts to retm^n thanks. When Beauchamp stood up with Blanche some short time afterwards. Lord Danby remarked to Mrs. Harcourt, " Oh, I ?ee now who the gentleman is to whom Miss Douglas was so anwilling to give offence ; and I am told Mr. Beauchamp is decidedly in great favour, if not already engaged to her ; yet, considering what has occurred, this is almost a natural con- sequence." "You are greatly misinformed, Lord Danby. Mr. Beau* 208 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. champ cannot be engaged to my niece without her guardian' J consent, which, I am quite sure, he will never obtain from Mr. Harcourt ; nor has it ever been solicited. He and Miss Douglas have been known to each other from childhood, which makes them, of course, on very intimate terms ; and Lord Malcolm, her cousin, is also, I believe, engaged to Mr. Beau- champ's sister." " Oh, perhaps, then," said Lord Danby, " this may account for that cordiality which is observable in their manner to each other." " Most certainly," replied Mrs. Harcourt ; " Mr. Beauchamp cannot reasonably entertain any other views towards my niece, knowing the utter impossibility of his ever standing in a nearer relation to her than he does at present." Lord Danby, thus assured by Mrs, Harcourt, and knowing no cause to doubt her authority or sincerity in speaking so unreservedly on the subject, treated Blanche's rumoured engage- ment to Beauchamp as mere gossip, without any good fbunda- tion ; and accordingly resolved to prosecute his suit if, on nearer acquaintance, she realised his expectations. Beauchamp, although not doubting Blanche's resolution to adhere to her intention of not accepting any other partner than himself for the remainder of the evening, thought it more prudent to compromise the matter by engaging her for the last dance only. " It would be very improper in me, dear girl," he observed, " to expose you to the remarks which would assuredly follow, and excite Mrs. Harcourt's suspicions of our attachment, which, for the present, it is more prudent to conceal j but, believe me, I do not for a moment doubt your constancy, or love for me as a brother," he added in a lower tone, which she did not appear to have heard. " What can I say, then, "William, to Lord Danby, should he ask me again 1 Mrs. Harcourt will take offence, I suppose, if I refuse him." " You are not to consult Mrs. Harcourt's, but your owii feelings, Blanche, in such cases j and knowing the general opinion on this point, you, of course, are the best judge, whether you feel inclined to give further encouragement to Lord Danby by such a very particular mark of favour, as accepting him three times for your partner, on the first night of your acquaintance. Lord Danby and lookers-on will of course draw the natural conclusion that you approve those marked -A LOKD DANBY AT THE PEIORY. 209 attentions ; but if you do not intend to give him encourage- ment, you can plead fatigue, or other engagements." Beau- champ, having thus expressed himself, consigned Blanche to Mrs. Gordon's care, who was soon relieved of her charge by a succession of applicants for the honour of her niece's hand, which was not permitted to remain idle until the dawn of morning put an end to further exertions. CHAPTER XXIII. The next day, a grand muster of fox-hunters took place about four miles from Cherrington, where the young squire made his appearance about twelve o'clock ; and his usual good fortune having attended him, resulting in a good day's sport, all retired from the field well satisfied. The third morning, Beauchamp rode over to the Priory, and remained until after luncheon; when, sitting with Blanche in the drawing-room, to his surprise Captain Markham was announced, accompanied by Lord Dan by. " Ah, Beauchamp, old fellow, good day's sport, yesterday — 'pon honour. Danby thinks first-rate. Called to inquire how the ladies were after the ball. Capital band. Miss Douglas; lots of partners ; grand affair — don't you think so ? " " Yes, Captain Markham ; everything was exceedingly well arranged, and reflects great credit on fox-hunters." Lord Danby, although received rather iormally by Beau- champ, was very courteous in his address to Blanche ; hoping she did not feel over- fatigued by her great exertions, with many other little speeches of this nature, usual on such occasions ; soon after which the visitors took their leave. " Beauchamp again ! " remarked Lord Danby to his friend, during their ride home ; " there must be something more in his constant attentions to Miss Douglas than Mrs. Harcourt Imagines." " Can't say, Danby, 'pon honour — don't concern me — mind my own business — every feUow must take care of himself; but Harcourt is a crusty old customer — very, won't give in — swears Beauchamp shan't have her — can't be had without his consent — "vvard, and all that sort of thing." " Well, I hardly know what to think, Markham." " Take my advice, Danby — think nothing about it, but act N 210 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. as you feel inclined — field open to all — no poaching — win her^ if you can — wortli having — lots of tin — capital chance — Mar- chioness of Danby — sure to take." "I do not regard her fortune, Markham, and believe she would not marry me for my title, unless my first impressions of her character are very erroneous. But it is quite premature my talking in this manner upon so short an acquaintance." A few nights after, Mrs. Gordon, Lord Malcolm, and Blanche, with the Beauchamp family, dined at Barton Court, and after dinner Lord Danby paid particular attention to Miss Douglas, sitting near her the greater part of the evening, evidently fascinated by her unaffected manners and exceeding loveliness ; in fact, from that time he fell really in love with her. Beau- champ, guessing what was passing in Lord Danby's mind, kept at a distance, from that feeling of hauteui* which jealousy engenders ; and Mrs. Gordon witnessed with alarm his contract- ing brows and compressed lips. Selina Markham, also, noticing his grave deportment and thoughtful looks, whispered — " What is the matter with you to-night. Will Beauchamp ? You look like a judge with his black cap on, about to pronounce sentence of death on some unhappy culprit. I read your thoughts — the culprit is Danby — another lord to shoot, eh, Win?" " Nonsense, Selina." " Sense, Will Beauchamp ; I have been watching your savage looks at the little flirtation going on in that quiet corner between Blanche and Danby ; but don't be alarmed — he is not the fellow to run away with her, or attempt it — all right and above board this time. But seriously speaking, Beauchamp, if you are, as I believe, tru/iy in love with Blanche, make me your confidant, and I will soon check my lord from further advances." " Thank you, Selina, for your friendly intentions, but Blanche is free to choose whom she pleases." " Is it so, William 1 Are you not already engaged 1 " There was no reply. " I had hoped," added Selina, " that you were ; but take my advice, don't be a spooney, but propose at once." " And be at once rejected by Harcourt. No, no, Selina, I have too much pride for that ; but say no more now, or we shall be overheard." From that night Lord Danby became a frequent visitor at the Priory, wheie his very quiet, gentlemanly manners and Blanche's avowal of love. ^U amiable disposition soon won upon all the family ; so much so, that even Mrs. Gordon felt very much pleased with his com- pany, although never failing in her loyalty to Beauchamp, of whom she now saw so little as to excite great misgivings in her mind. Lord Danby was at first generally accompanied bj Markham or his sister, but now often rode over there alone, and sometimes on hunting days, which at last excited Mrs. Gordon's susj)icions that he entertained serious intentions towards her niece. " Blanche," she said, one day, after finding on her return to the house that he had been sitting with her some time in the drawing-room while she was occupied in the garden, "Lord Danby has paid a long visit. I hear he has been here more than an hour, and I begin to think with Charles, his attentions to you, my dear girl, can admit of only one interpretation. But seriously, Blanche, what do you think of him 1 " " He is very agreeable, dear aunt, pleasing, and good- humoured, and I like him very much ; Charles also appears to be on very friendly terms with him, and speaks highly in hia praise." " Yes, my dear, he is certainly, as far as I can judge from our short acquaintance, a very unaffected, excellent young man ; but it is quite clear now that his visits here are unquestionably on your account, and William, from his unusual absence, has evidently heard and believes the same. Are you prepared, therefore, my dear girl (as I will never influence you in the choice of a husband), to receive him as a suitor for your hand, to the exclusion of Beauchamp, whom, after due reflection, you may only love as a brother 1 If so, dear Blanche, knowing William's deep, disinterested regard for you, pray be candid with me, as your true welfare is my first consideration ; so do not hesitate in telling me if you prefer Lord Danby, that I may break to William that his hopes are at an end." " Oh, no, my dearest aunt," exclaimed Blanche, throwing her arms round her neck ; " I never did, never can love any other than dear Yv^illiam ; but he has been so distant lately that I almost fear he has ceased to love me." "Then had he ceased to love you, dear girl, would you accept Lord Danby 1 " "No, dear aunt, that is impossible; I could not love again. so soon, if ever." " My own dear child, then rest assured you are as secure of William's affection as of my own, which neither time nor N 2 ^11 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. absence can ever change ; but j^ou know his keen, sensitive feelings, and often- expressed resolution never to stand in your way, if he thought you preferred another more eligible than himself. Poor fellow ! I know what he must have suffered lately, since we dined at Barton Court, and I noticed his deej), thoughtful looks fixed on you and Lord Danby when sitting together. But now, dear Blanche, he will soon return, when he knows your feelings are unchanged." After this conversation, Mrs. Gordon sought Malcolm, and, telling him of her explanation with Blanche, begged him to ride directly to Bampton, and entreat William Beauchamp to come over to the Priory the next day. Malcolm lost no time in finding his friend ; and having at last satisfied his scruples and allayed his suspicions, which were hard to overcome, he obtained his promise to comply with Mrs. Gordon's request.- This same afternoon, Lord Danby, after his very agreeable tete-d-tete with Blanche, and construing her pleased and some- times embarrassed looks into a warmer sentiment, coupling with these also his kind reception at the Priory and Beauchamp's apparent indifference, all combined impressing him with the idea that he could not now sue in vain, he rode directly to Throseby, and finding Mr. Harcourt at home, proposed for his ward, and was, of course without much hesitation, accepted. After expressing his grateful thanks to Mr. Harcourt, Lord Danby begged permission to plead his own cause in person to Miss Douglas, before his formal proposal should be made known. " Certainly, my lord," replied Mr. Harcourt ; " if you par- ticularly wish it, I can have no positive objection to such a request, provided you are quite sure of the duke's approbation." " I have already consulted him on the subject, Mr. Har- court, and there is his reply," handing him a letter from his father. " This is perfectly satisfactory, my lord," replied Mr. Har- court, " and you have our best wishes for your success." The next morning, about eleven o'clock. Lord Danby directed his course to the Priory. Blanche was sitting by herself in the drawing-room (her aunt having, as usual after breakfast, gone to her poultry-yard), when the door opened, and he was announced. She would gladly have made any excuse to leave the room, but that being impossible without great apparent rudeness, she sat down with a tremor and emban-assment so yery visible and unlike her usual manner, that it could not LORD DANBT SUES FOB BLANCHE'S HAND. 213 escape the notice of Lord Danby, who felt his hopes rise at what lie very natiu-ally concluded evinced a "warmer feeling towards him than that of a mere acquaintance ; and thus encouraged, he took advantage of the present opportunity to press his suit and avow the feelings of love and affection, which ever since his first introduction to her had been daily in- creasino^. After a few oommon-place remarks, his lordship observed that his visit to Barton Court was dra^ving to a close. " A visit. Miss Douglas, which has been productive of more pleasure to me than I can express, but from which the happiness or misery of my future life \vill be dated ; need I say that on you that happiness depends ? Wealth and rank I offer you (though I feel these would have little weight), but what is far beyond these, a heart deeply and devotedly your own, and which has never been given to another. Say, dearest Miss Douglas," taking her hand, "if I may hope to be fortunate enough to possess this treasure 1 " Poor Blanche was quite overwhelmed with pain and con- fusion at this unequivocal proposal, but, quickly recovering herself, she withdrew her hand, saying, " Indeed, Lord Danby, I very much regret this avowal of your sentiments towards me." " Oh, recall that word — regret. Miss Douglas ; for though our acquaintance has been short, let me still hope that in time my devoted affection may induce you to give me a more favour- able answer than that I now dread." " Pray cease, my lord ; indeed, you distress me ; I never imagined your attentions were more than those of a friend." " Every one must have divined the nature of those atten- tions but yourself; and now, dear Miss Douglas, listen, I entreat, to one who has never known what love was till he knew you, and whose whole happiness rests on your reply. Give me ever so distant a hope that I may win that hand I would give all I possess to obtain." " Indeed, Lord Danby, I cannot be ever more to you than a friend, flattered as I feel by your preference for me. But it is impossible ; my feelings will not change." " Then," cried he, turning very pale, "my worst forebodings are verified ; you love another ? " Blanche blushed crimson, and rising, said, " I know not by what right Lord Danby presumes to question my feelings." *' Oh, forgive me, Miss Douglas. I never meant to offend ^l'^ THE MASTEE OF THE HOUNDS. but have some pity on this bitter disappointment to all my long-cherished hopes, and at least do not discard me as a friend, though you will not now listen to me as a lover. I can never, "while life lasts, cease to be deeply interested in one to whom I ■would have devoted that life, if permitted." But Blanche, hearing footsteps in the hall, fled hastily through another door, and sought her own room. It is always a painful thing for a woman to refuse any man, but doubly so when that man has qualities to command esteem and admiration j and Blanche now devoutly wished Lord Danby had never been known to her, or that she had been spared the necessity of inflicting pain on one so truly estimable. Little did she think, at that very moment, how agonising were the feelings of that dear one for whom she had rejected him ; but we must now relate what caused Beauchamp to feel thus. It so happened that he arrived at the Priory about ten minutes after Lord Danby, and giving his horse to a servant in the stable-5^ard, walked round to the hall door. In doing so, he passed the drawing-room window, and a glance into the room revealed to his astonished sight Lord Danby sitting on the sofa with Blanche, and holding her hand in his. Beau- champ's brain was almost on fire at the sight j he rushed back into the stable-yard, seized his horse from the astonished groom, who was taking liim into the stable, and with a look of fury in his eyes rode rapidly away. At the lodge-gates he met Mal- colm, who exclaimed, " Why, Beauchamp, what on earth is the matter 1 you look scared and pale as death. My dear fellow, what has happened ? " "You have deceived me. Lord Malcolm, and brought me here to be insulted — scorned — disgraced. Not five minutes since have I seen Blanche Douglas sitting on the sofa, with Lord Danby 's hand in hers. Let me pass," as Malcolm at- tempted to detain him ; " fool ! idiot though I have been, that sight has crazed — has maddened me ! " ' 'I'or Heaven's sake ,stop one moment, Beauchamp ; on my honour, I have not deceived you," exclaimed Malcolm. But he was gone, riding furiously towards home. Malcolm returned instantly to the house, and sought Blanche in the drawing-room ; she was not there. He then ran up-stairs, calling her name loudly. In a moment she appeared from her room. " What do you want, Charles ? " she ?iske(i L CQMMOTION AT THE PRIORY. 215 " Quick, Blanche, one word only ; liave you accepted Lord Danby ? " " Olij Charles, how can you ask me such a question ? " "On your life — your honour — answer me truly — without evasion — have you positively, unconditionally refused him ? " "On my Lonour, Charles, yes ; but what makes you ask me BO vehemently ? " " Because Beauchamp has been here, saw you sitting with your hand in his, and the sight has driven him distracted ; but I must be gone this moment and follow him, or I know not what he may do in his excited state." Malcolm rushed from the house, and mounting his horse, which his servant held at the door, gallo^^ied instantly away to overtake his friend. IVIi's. Gordon, who was returning from her poultry-yard, alarmed at the furious galloping of horses up the carriage drive, entered tlie house hastily, and inquired of the footman what it meant, and who had been calling there. " The Marquis of Danby, ma'am, has been here and is just gone. Mr. William Beauchamp rode into the yard, and left his horse, but before it could be put into the stable, he returned and took him from John's hand, and rode off as fast as he could go. My lord has also ridden full gallop up to the lodge." " What can have happened, Thomas ? " asked Mrs. Gordon, anxiously. "Nothing that I know of, ma'am; but John said Master William was in a terrible way about something, and looked like a ghost." "Good gracious ! " exclaimed Mrs. Gordon j "but where is Miss Douglas ? " "In her own room, I believe, ma'am;" and immediately Mrs. Gordon rushed up-stairs, and found Blanche in an agony ol grief " My own child " (throwing her arms round her niece), " what on earth has happened '? what is the meaning of all I heard about Lord Danby, Beauchamp, and Malcolm riding so furiously away, and you in tears too 1 Dear Blanche, pray tell me what has caused this dreadful commotion ? " " Dear, dear aunt," replied Blanche, crying bitterly, " I am the unfortunate cause of all." Blanche then related what had occurred between herself and Lord Danby, and that Beauchamp liaving, on passing tliQ window, seen him take her hand, rode" av/ay, as her cousin tpld h'iv^ in a distracted statCj fefuiing to stop ov listen to fti» « 216 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS moment ; and that Charles, learning the truth from her owr lips, immediately followed him, fearing he might commit some rash act. " May Heaven avert such a calamity, my dear child !" ex- claimed Mrs. Gordon ; " but pray do not give way thus ; we can trust Charles, and, oh ! how fortunate he was here." " Indeed, dear aunt, I should never forgive myself were anything to befall poor William, for I fear I may have treated Lord Danby in too friendly a manner, as we all liked him so much j but, until yesterday, I never thought he intended more than common attention to me, and indeed, dear aunt, this morning he was so suddenly announced that I could not escape from the room, though, after what you told me yesterday, I had resolved never to be left alone with him again." " My dear love, do not distress yourself so, it could not be avoided, and I hope Charles will prevail on William to return." Fast as Lord Malcolm rode, and he slackened not his speed for a moment, Beauchamp far outstripped him, and having put his horse in the stable, ordered a fresh one to be saddled imme- diately, going up the back stairs to his room, where, having packed up a carpet bag, he sat writing a few hasty lines to his father, explaining what had taken place, and his intention of leaving home for a short time ; when Malcolm, bursting open the door, exclaimed, " Beauchamp, why this folly, this madness 1 Danby has proposed, and is rejected ! — ^how could you think Blanche would act otherwise ! " " On your honour, Malcolm, is this true ? " " On my life, it is ; Blanche has told me all ; that, urging his suit, he seized her hand for a moment, but that she imme- diately withdrew it, and positively refused his addresses." Beauchamp stood as if electrified, his lips and frame quiver- ing with agitation, and then sunk back into a chair, over- powered by conflicting sensations. " Here, Beauchamp," said Malcolm, pouring out a glass o:. water, "drink this, my dear fellow ; all is well, believe me, and now you must return to poor dear Blanche, who is almost broken-hearted, fearing you have left her for ever." " Oh, Malcolm ! the agony of that moment ; I thought my heart would burst, and now see how my hand trembles ; I am quite bewildered still." " Then come with me, my dear Beauchamp ; a glass of wine first, and then our horses." **I cannot go just yet, Malcolm ; my head throbs so." THE LOVERS BECONCILED. 217 "The air ■will revive you, Beauclianip, so come along directly ; " and taking his friend's arm, Malcolm led him down- stairs, and having forced him to drink a glass of wine, they mounted their horses. Beauchamp rode by his friend's side, and was like a man in a trance, from which Malcolm could not rouse him ; but when they reached the Priory, seeing Blanche at the little morning-room window, with her handker- chief in her hand, Malcolm exclaimed, " There is that dear girl still crying ; can you doubt her now 1 " In an instant Beauchamp rushed into the room, and fold- ing her in his arms, burst into tears. " Thank Heaven for those tears," said Malcolm ; " now, dear Blanche, they will relieve him." Leaving the lovers together, Malcolm took his aunt into the drawing-room, and told her the state in which he found Beau- champ. " In short, dear aunt, he has received a dreadful shock, and I feared at first his brain was seriously affected. We must do all now to soothe and comfort him." The interview between Blanche and Beauchamp was most affecting ; but she, seeing his prostrate state of mind, was the first to rouse herself, and rally him on his want of faith in her attachment. " My own dearest treasure," replied Beauchamp, " I deserve every reproach you can heap upon my head ; but if you knew only half what I have suffered since the ball and dinner party at Sir Lionel's, and hearing the frequent remarks made by others, you would indeed pity, rather than condemn me, for believing you had mistaken the true nature of your feelings towards me ; but forgive all my jealous, unjust suspicions — I will never again listen to such false reports." Aunt Gordon, thinking too much excitement might be injurious, now made her appearance, saying in a cheerful voice, *'Well, Blanche, I hope you have given William a thorough good scolding ; but the luncheon is on the table, and after that you must really take a walk this fine day, having been sitting in the house all the morning." Beauchamp was unable to eat anything, which Mrs. Gordon remarking, poured him out a glass of wine. " Why, my dear boy, you look quite wretched, with that pale, wan face ; pray take something, if only a biscuit ; and mind, my love, you have a good long walk afterwards, to give him an appetite for his dinner." " I fear, dear aunt, I cannot dine with you to-day." " I fear, dear William, you must," was the playful reply ; 218 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " and as you are so dainty, I sliall order a couple of my spring eliickens to be dressed especially for you." " Then I must send to let my father and Constance know I do not dine at home." " Oh, yes, of course," replied Malcolm, " and I shall go over and dine at Bampton in your place, my boy, and make love to Constance all the evening, as you vv^ere in such a state this morning I could not speak a word to her." After luncheon, Malcohn again mounted his horse, to allay the old squire's apprehensions about his son, not doubting the servants had noticed his very excited manner ; and Beauchamp -with Blanche strolled out together for a walk, and did not return until nearly five o'clock ; so agreeably passed the time, that they were scarcely aware of the lateness of the hour. It would be difficult to point out the happiest of those three persons, who after dinner drew round to the fireside at th.e Priory that evening. Mrs. Gordon being in high spirits, could not forbear joking Beauchamp on his jealousy. "Why, WiUiam, at this rate you will be in a lunatic asylum within a week of Blanche's first appearance at Almack'sj you really must school yourself to meet these things with com- placency, if not with indifierence; for Blanche will undoubtedly attract many admirers (irrespective of her fortune), and she cannot prevent people falling in love with her, or proposing." " Indeed, dear aunt, I feel more and more every day how undeserving I am of her preference, and that feeling makes mo wretched ; she is so far, so very far beyond my deserts, that I know I have no right to aspire to that dear hand, which I dread sometimes to think can never be mine." " Never, dear "William, believe me," replied Blanche, " shall this hand (placing it in his) belong to any other than your- self; titles, rank, honours are nothing to me, in comparison with your love. Oh ! William, don't again doubt my entii^e devotion to yom^self, or you will, indeed, make me miserable." " Heaven bless you, my own darling girl, for that avowal," as he raised her hand to his lips, and the tears started to his eyes from uncontrollable emotion. "Come, come, my dear boy," said Mrs. Gordon, "youl nerves are sadly shattered by this morning's work; pray do nob torment yourself any more in this foolish manner." " I will not go to London, aunt," added Blanche, " unless William goes too ; and to save him any an^ciety, I had rather not go at all." THE TROUBLES OP THE DAY ENDED, 219 " Well, dear child, no one can oblige you to go, unk.ss you like it ; so we will say no more on the subject. And now, William, I hope you will not be sparing of your visits to the Priory for the future ; and to make up for your bad conduct, I expect you will come over here at least two or three days in the week, if not oftener." " You will, I fear, dear aunt, be sooner tired of my company than I shall be of yours ; as I have promised this dear girl to be here as often as possible." " I am delighted to hear it, William j so now take another glass of wine, and we Avill then go to the ladies' drawing-room, and Blanche will sing a few songs to enliven us." It was a late hour before Beauchamp could tear him sell away from her he loved so enthusiastically ; when, after folding her once more in a long and fervent embrace, invoking every blessing on her head, and then pressing Aunt Gordon's liand to his lips, he bade them both good night. " Dear, kind, affectionate boy ! " exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, when he left the room, " who could fail to love you, even though ten times more jealous than you are ? " " Oh, dear aunt, you do not, cannot know how dearly I do love him." "Indeed, my darling girl, I do believe it, and Heaven grant you may ever love him as now, or, poor fellow, I believe he would never survive a change." " ISTever, dearest aunt, shall he find any change in me." " I do not fear it, my love ; so now let us go to our rooms, and thank the Almighty thab the day which began in trouble has ended in happiness to us all." CHAPTER XXIY. We must now turn to Lord Danby, who felt most acutely tlie sudden overthrow of his fondly-cherished and too sanguine hopes, and whose disappointment was in proportion to his liighly-wi-ought expectations. Many women, more beautiful, jnore highly accomplished, more fascinating in manner, of high rank and of great wealth, had Lord Danby encountered in his short intercourse with the world, who had excited his passing admiratiorij v/ithout a,wa.kening any deeper emotion j but wuiil 220 THE MASTEE OF THE HOUNDS. the night of the hunt ball, he had never met with one who realised his ideas of perfect loveliness. The unstudied elegance of mien and manner — the soft, angelic countenance of Blanche Douglas, lit up by those sparkling eyes, so innocently expressive of her artless, unsophisticated mind, presented to Lord Danby's imagination, if not absolutely to his sight, that vision he had so long cherished in his heart, of perfection in woman. Whenever she moved, his eyes instinctively, irresistibly followed ; and after having danced two quadrilles with her, he was as much taken with her guileless remarks, gentle disposition, light, buoyant spirits and cheerful conversation, from which there was a total absence of either levity or satire, as he had been at first sight with her person ; and from that night her image was the constant companion of his thoughts, and ever present day and night. Even in rejecting his proposals that day, she was lovely still ; so grieved to inflict pain, so anxious to spare those bitter feelings she seemed by intuition to know he must feel, when obliged to crush by one word all his deeply-indulged, fondly-cherished hopes of happiness. " Oh, Blanche, Blanche ! " ejaculated Lord Danby, as he spurred forward from the lodge gates, which so short a time before he had entered cheerful and happy ; " all I possess in the world — rank, honours, and riches — • would I resign ; all, all — everything, for that most precious to me of all earthly treasures — your dear hand. But it cannot be — ^not now, at least — if ever ! She loves, I fear, another — and that man is William Beauchamp. It must be so, and Harcourt has deceived me." Indulging in such melancholy reflections, Lord Danby reached Barton Court, and immediately repaired to his own room, where, when feeling more composed, he sat down and wrote a few lines to Mr. Harcourt, expressive of his feelings of unfeigned sorrow and most poignant grief in having that morning failed to interest Miss Douglas in his favour; although acknowledging her kind consideration in endeavouring to spare him as much as possible the pain of a refusal. Having dispatched this letter by his servant to Throseby, Lord Danby sought Sir Lionel, and made known his intention of leaving Barton Court the following morning, alleging, as his excuse for curtailing his visit, that an unexpected event required his immediate return home. Lord Danby's communication excited no little surprise and no trifling indignation on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt, who, attributing Blanche's reftisal of such an unexceptionable ofier to Mrs. Gordon's influence over her in favour of Beauchamp, di'ove over in hot haste to KR. SAECOURT ATTACKS MRS. GORDOK. 221 the Priory, vowing vengeance, and resolving to insist on Blanche being restored to their protection. Mrs. Gordon was sitting alone at her work in the drawing- room (Malcolm and Blanche having ridden over to Bampton), when Mr. and Mrs. Harconrt pounced in upon her, and with scarcely the usual civility of shaking hands, the gentleman rushed in medias res, or in plainer terms, was at her without circumlocution, boiling to deliver himself of his angry thoughts. " So, Mrs. Gordon, I find you have persuaded your niece to reject the Marquis of Danby ; a young nobleman of unblemished character, large fortune, and heir to a dukedom ! What fault could you find with him, Mrs. Gordon 1 He is handsome, most amiable in disposition (Sir Lionel and all his family speak in raptures of his lordship), and agreeable ; in short, perfectly un- exceptionable in every respect. But I suppose it did not suit your views that my ward should accept his lordship ; and there- fore her prospects in life are to be sacrificed that you may carry out your own plans." " My plans ! Mr. Harcourt," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, unable to contain her indignation any longer, "how dare you accuse me of planning ! You and your friend, Lord Mervyn, are plan- ners, and very creditable plans you devise between you ! I per- suade my niece to reject Lord Danby ! I scorn the imputation, sir, and throw it back, as a base, untrue, unmanly assertion. My influence never has been, and never shall be exercised like yours, in inducing her to marry any man ; neither have I been instrumental in her refusal of Lord Danby ; and I say, without fear of contradiction, in which I shall be fully confirmed by his lordship, that he has received from me every facility for im- proving his acquaintance with my niece since he has been in this neighbourhood. From the day we dined at Sir Lionel Markham's, Lord Danby has had the entree of my house at all times ; Lord Malcolm and myself have treated him with the greatest kindness, from his being previously known to Charles ; he has dined here very frequently ; has often seen Blanche alone, when I have been out or otherwise engaged ; in short, we all liked him so much and thought so highly of him, that latterly his visits were made without the least formality, and he was received on the footing of a friend. These are plain facts, Mr. Harcourt ; and had I any intention, or any reason what- ever, to prejudice Blanche against Lord Danby, or throw any obstacle in his way, it is quite needless for me to say, ordera might have been given to my servants to refuse him admittance ; 2^2 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDSf. and last of all, when he called yesterday, and proposed to Blanche, I "wa^s quite unaware of his having been here, until some time aftei he had left the house." " It appears most extraordinary to me," replied Mrs. Har- court, " quite inexplicable, how Blanche could refuse such a person as Lord Danby." "And so you thought before, Mrs. Harcourt, when she refused Lord Vancourt ; preferring to be guided by her own feelings instead of listening to your advice j and fcrtunate indeed, poor girl ! for her, that she summoned resolution enough to think and act for herself In this instance she has done the same thing, and feeling no deeper regard for Lord Danby upon so short an acquaintance, she of course declined his proposal. There is nothing very extraordinary in such conduct, unless you can show that my niece is under the imperious necessity of accepting any nobleman who proposes, whether she likes him or not." " I should like to know," retorted Mrs. Harcourt, " how often your favourite, Mr. Beauchamp, has been here lately 1 " " Without keeping an exact register of all persons who call at the Priory," replied Mrs. Gordon, " I think I may safely say that since the ball he has called twice, and dined here once only ; therefore his presence cannot have operated as a counter- foil to Lord Danby, who has had the field quite open to the prosecution of his addresses, without the slightest interven- tion from any other person whatever ; and I may add that, guessing his lordship's intentions from his very frequent visits, I pointed out to Blanche the advantages of such an alliance, and his many good qualities, leaving it entirely to her own feelings to accept him or not." " Oh, indeed, Mrs. Gordon ; but pray, where is Blanche 1 as we wish very much to see her." " She is out riding with her cousin," was the reply. The Harcourts rose soon after and took their leave, seeing no grounds for further altercation with Mrs. Gordon, who had 80 completely turned the tables on them. As the time fixed for holding the assizes drew near, Blanche became exceedingly nervous, requiring all Beau- champ's tenderness and encouragement to strengthen her for the coming trial ; and every hour he could spare was devoted to her. " Oil, William ! " she exclaimed one day, when they were walking arm-in-arm in the garden j "I have such a dread of FRESH AVOWALS OF ATTACHMENT. 22^ appearing in court, that I wish Charles would give up all further proceedings, and let the matter rest as it is. Will you ask him to do so, as he will not listen to me ? " " My dearest girl, you know I Avould do anything to spare your feelings ; but you must consider, if the trial is prevented taking jDlace, your fair name will be tarnished for ever, and people will say you consented to elope with Lord Vancourt ; this will be undoubtedly the opinion of the world, and the reflections cast upon your character for such an act will follow you througli life. Would you consent to lie under such an imputation, merely to avoid a little unpleasantry for a few minutes 1 as you have little more to depose to than your honour, and surjDrise at Lord Yancourt's attempt to hurry you off." " If not for my own sake, yet for yours, dear William, must I summon then all my courage, as no reflections shall ever be cast on your wife, which I now consider myself to be, in the sight of Heaven, having vowed never to marry another, if it pleases the Almighty to spare our lives until that event takes place." " My own dearest Blanche, on my account you shall never be subjected to one moment's inquietude, which it may be in my power to prevent. The world is notliing to me. I care neither for its favours nor its frowns ; it is for yourself only I am thinking, should any unfortunate circumstance prevent our union ; for without Mrs. Harcourt's consent, I cannot claim your hand until two long years have elapsed ; and how many things may happen in that time to dash the cup of happiness from my lips ! " " Nothing, William, but the hand of death can ever prevent me fulfilling my engagement to you, although I fear you Avill never believe me sincere in this oft-expressed determination. Oh, would that you could read every secret feeling of my heart, which beats for you only ! Indeed, indeed, dear William, your doubts and suspicions make me very miserable ; for three long weeks, day after day, hour after hour, I sat wondering why you never came, watching and hoping that the sound of every horse I heard approaching might be yours. Oh, had you come as usual, I had been spared that unpleasant scene with Lord I)anby, and you the agony of beheving for one moment that I could prefer him or any other human being to yourself." " Dear, dear Blanche, pray spare me those bitter reflectiona which my past conduct calls up ; but, indeed, I could not help ^^4 tHE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. thinking, from what occurred at the ball, and afterwards at Barton Court, when you were sitting so long with Lord Danby, and so evidently pleased with his society, that his attentions must be most agreeable to you ; and it was on that account solely, and lest my presence might influence you, or deter him from an expression of his sentiments, that I absented myself so long from the Priory." " Well, dear William, you do not now, I hope, believe that I ever intended anything more than common civility to Lord Danby ; but to convince you of my unswerving attachment to yourself, here is a little present which I had purchased expressly for your own hand, within this last week" — producing a beautiful diamond ring, with a small lock of her hair inside — "and which you must wear as a symbol of my love. Come, give me your hand — I shall place it myself on your finger, and when I cease to be your own dear Blanche, as you so often call me, then return this ring to me again." " That you will never cease to be to me, my own sweet girl," pressing her to his heart ; " and now, dear Blanche, see that I also had prepared a similar present for yourself, which I had intended giving you after the hunt ball ; and now I must examine which finger it "svill fit best." " Place it where you would my wedding-ring, dear William ; and now, with my hand in yours, by that token I pledge my faith to you. Dear William, will that pledged promise satisfy your jealous, unjust suspicions? and will you from this houi promise never to doubt more your own dear Blanche ? " " Yes, dear girl, that promise I give most cheerfully, and trust to observe most faithfully ; but, believe me, without any desire to extenuate my own conduct, true, devoted afi'ection cannot exist without some jealousy ; and now tell me, were I to pay great attention to any pretty girl by dancing with hei two or three times on the same night, and sitting with her apart from the other company, when meeting at dinner or other parties, — were I also, in addition to these little acts of attention, to be frequently calling at her father's house, and monopolising her society as much as I conveniently could, — would you not, dear girl, experience some little uneasy sensations at my con- duct, and begin with good cause to doubt the sincerity of my professed undivided regard for yourself?" " Unquestionably I should, William ; but with a full know- ledge of your meaning, and seeing how you intend to apply it, the case between us is not exactly parallel. Gentlemen have THE LECTITRE ON Ft,lRTATIOH. 225 tbe option of paying any sucli attentions, wliicli ladies have not the option of declining sometimes, without apparent rudeness, and where no necessity exists for showing it, particularly to those whose behaviour is courteous and their society agreeable ; but surely, my dear William, there is a wide distinction between being pleased with a person and being in love with him ; and it would be great vanity in a girl to suppose that every man, who tries to make himself agreeable, must necessarily be in love with her." " ISTot so very wide a distinction, dear girl, as the one often leads to the other, and men certainly consider these smiling receptions of their attentions as an encouragement to proceed further." " Then you gentlemen, William, are very vain, unreasonable animals ; for girls, if distant or reserved in their manners, are accused of hauteur, stupidity, or ill temper ; and if socially disposed, of flirting, or leading you to imagine they are more seriously afiected." "Well, dear Blanche, it is, I conclude, rather a difficult matter for young ladies to draw the line of distinction ; but you have seen two instances of men's vanity and unreasonableness in the conduct of Vernon and Lord Danby, who both aspired to your hand without your having given them, as you believe, any just or reasonable grounds for thinking that you accepted their devoirs in any other light than mere politeness ; so you must perceive, my dear girl, that my opinion of men's feelings in such cases is tolerably correct ; and I would only suggest, to spare yourself the unpleasantness of similar scenes in future, a more guarded and reserved manner towards any man who shows you any unusual attentions, unless you really mean to encourage his addresses." " Then, Mr. Will, I suppose I must appear as demure as a Quakeress in society ; neither smile, nor look pleased, scarcely speak, and consent to be set down as a most stupid, dull gu'l, without two ideas in my head, and treat all men alike, whether agreeable or the reverse, merely to avoid the possibility of their falling in love with me. Really, if men are such foolish, sensi- tive creatures, they must take care of themselves ; but I rather suspect the majority are not very scrupulous in trying to win the affections of unsuspecting girls, without intending anything more." " It is quite true, dear girl, that men of the world care no mor^ about breaking girls' hearts than they do about breaking 226 -PHE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. their fans, and such deserve no mercy ; but I am perfectly satis* fied my dear Blanche will never encourage flirtations with men of this description." " So you really can repose some little confidence in me after all your lecturing, Mr. William ? " "Yes, Blanche, I do, indeed, believe you incapable of wil- fully misleading any one ; and as you knoAv the happiness or misery of my future life now rests in your keeping, you will not; I am convinced, think lightly of that trust which from this hour is so implicitly confided in you ; and if I am a little jealous sometimes, set it down to the right account — my sole, undivided love and anxious solicitude about one who is, and ever must be, far dearer to me than my own life. And now, dear gii'l, let us return to Aunt Gordon, who, I dare say, begins to think we have been a most unreasonable time love-making this morning.** "Well, children," remarked that lady, "your delightful little topic appears quite inexliaustible." " My dear aunt," replied Blanche, laughing, " you are greatly deceived in thinking William has been talldng love to me all this time, whereas he has been giving me a most severe lecture on flirtation; in fact, dear aunt, his speeches are often the reverse of romantic, pathetic, or even complimentary." " So much the better, my love ; it is the greatest proof that he has formed a high and true estimate of your own good sense. The silly trash talked by most lovers is perfectly sickening, and I never thought William would pour into your ears such ful- some, unmeaning stuff", which even a child of twelve years old might feel ashamed of listening to." " There is no fear of that, dear aunt; only just give him a hint not to lecture me quite so much for the future." "Keturn the compliment, my love, as he requires some sharp admonitions on his weak point — jealousy. And now, I want you both to assist me in the conservatory.'* *HE TRIAL, 227 CHAPTER XXy. On the morning of the trial, the court was crowded to excess by well-dressed persons of both sexes, attracted by the novelty of the case and the strong feeling excited in the neighbourhood against the perpetrators of this daring outrage. Lord Vancourt did not, of coui'se, appear, being still on his travels, nobody knew where, not even Lord Mervyn ; but one of the leading counsel was employed (everybody said by his lordship, sub rosa) to defend his two underkeepers or night watchers, who had remained prisoners ever since the commission of the offence ; the wounded man, now in a fair way of recovery, having turned king's evidence. One of the most talented as well as gentle- manly men at the bar, named Whalley, had been retained by Malcolm to conduct the prosecution ; the sharp-witted, brow- beating Serjeant Wrangler appeared for the defence. Mr. "Whalley, in his opening address to the jury, commented in severe terms upon the monstrous nature of the offence, by which the lives of two persons had been nearly sacrificed, characterising it also as one of the most violent, wanton, and disgraceful outrages attempted by any man professing to be a gentleman. The first person called to prove the assault and attempted abduction was Blanche Douglas, who entered the court attended by her aunt Gordon and Lord Malcolm j and her counsel, pity- ing her extreme agitation on entering the witness-box, merely asked a few questions as to Lord Vancourt's attempts to drag her from the carriage, and her previous rejection of his addresses. Having thanked her for her replies, Mr. Whalley said it was unnecessary for him to trouble her further, and was resuming his seat, when Serjeant Wrangler immediately rose, and addressing poor Blanche, who was turning to leave her unplea- sant position, apologised in the blandest manner, and in th« softest tones he could assume, for detaining her from her friends a few minutes longer. " You were acquainted, I believe, Miss Douglas, with Lord Vancourt some time previously to this unfortunate affair on Marston Common ? " " A very short time only, sir," was the reply. " You met his lordship, I tliink, first at Marston Castle, where you were staying on a visit to Lord and Lady Mervyn 1' "Yes," was the faint lesponse. .0 d 22S THE MASTEtl OF TfiE HOUNDll, " You found him, I dare say, as others have, a very agree- able, entertaining companion, extremely courteous and deferen- tial to ladies, and in no wise foi'ward or presuming in their society 1 " No answer being returned, Serjeant Wrangler paused a moment, directing a smiling, self-satisfied look at the jury, to attract their attention to this admission in his favour, adjusting, at the same time, his gown with the air of counsel when con- fident of success. " Confound that knave ! " whispered Malcolm to Mrs Gordon ; " he will lead that timorous, unsuspecting girl into admissions which will play the devil with us, and herself also ; but stay here a moment, aunt, whilst I hand a line or two to Whalley," which he wi'ote on the crown of his hat, and the next moment a little cramped note was handed up on ike point of a stick by Malcolm's attorney to his counsel, which being read, was answered by a nod of the head. Serjeant "Wrangler was meanwhile attempting to improve the case by other exactions. " There's no doubt, Miss Douglas, you felt pleased and gratified, perhaps something more, by the polite attentions of this handsome, highly-gifted young nobleman ? " "My lord," exclaimed Whalley, suddenly rising before his opponent's question could be answered, " I object to that ques \ion and the course of cross-examination adopted by my learned friend, who is trying to obtain admissions from Miss Douglas, which, from her youth and inexperience of practice in law courts, will be used to her disadvantage ; and I must caution her not to notice these impertinent insinuations." "The last question," said the judge, "was scarcely fair, Mr. Wrangler ; conveying «ii inference which you had no right to make." " I bow to your decision, my lord," replied Wrangler, no wise disconcerted by this rebuke. " I can easily obtain my point in another way." This little altercation, however, had opened Blanche's eyes and understanding as to what Mr. Serjeant Wrangler was aiming at ; and the spirit of the Douglases came to her rescue, to retort upon her crafty interrogator. " You were in the habit. Miss Douglas, I believe, when at Marston Castle, of frequently driving and walking alone with Lord Yancourt ? " " No, I was not," answered Blanche, in a firm voice, which 'WW distinctly audible in the coui't. BLANCHE S CROSS-EXAMINATION. " Bravo I Ikliss Blanche," shouted a voice from the crowd near the door ; " give it the rascally lawyer in tiu'n." " I beg pardon, Miss Douglas," continued her tormentor ; " but we have evidence to prove you were seen several timei walking alone with his lordship." " Twice only — when invited to take a walk by Miss Mervyn, I was left alone, as I believed, purposely, to Lord Yancourt's attentions, which being disagreeable to me, I never again accompanied Miss Mervyn in her walks." '•Still, ]\Iiss Douglas, notwithstanding Lord Vancourt's attentions being, as you state, so disagreeable, you accepted him as a partner at the Cherrington Ball, not for one only, but for two quadrilles ; and dancing twice the same evening with the same partner is generally considered a very particular favour." " I accepted Lord Yancourt for the second dance in obedi« ence to my aunt Mrs. Harcourt's commands, and most certainly contrary to my own inclination, being previously engaged to Major Hammond for that set." " Well, Miss Douglas, we, who cannot enter into the fancies and feelings of young ladies, must judge by their acts ; and I should certainly consider it an act of encouragement in any lady accepting me twice for a partner. Mammas and aunts are very convenient personages sometimes to fall back upon." Blanche feeling too indignant to make any reply to thia impertinent inuendo, Serjeant Wrangler, with another signifi- cant look at the jury, proceeded — " It was only two days after this ball at Cherrington, when you danced twice with him, that Lord Yancourt wrote a formal proposal for your hand. Miss Douglas ; and I can scarcely imagine that his lordship, a thorough man of the world, moving in the highest circles, well acquainted with the etiquette and forms generally observed on such occasions, and, as you admit, most coui'teous and deferential to ladies — neither forward nor presuming — would have committed such an act of folly as making a proposal for a young lady, unless fully satisfied in his own mind that he had good grounds for believing his ofi*er would be accepted." "I never gave Lord Yancourt," replied Blanche, indig- nantly, "the slightest encouragement in any way, having taken a dislike to him from the first ; but, as an acquaintance of my Aunt Harcourt, I could not behave rudely to him whilst I was living under her protection at Throseby." " Oh ! of course not, Miss Douglas ! " added Wrancler, witli 230 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. a sneer. " Tlie letter addressed to your guardian, Mr. Har- court, by Lord Yancourt, containing the proposal, was, I pre- smne, submitted to your perusal, and tlie answer v/hich was returned ? " " No, sir. I neither saw nor knew the contents of the letter written by my guardian in reply ; but, when asked hj my aunt what answer should be returned, I told her most distinctly that nothing should ever induce me to accept the addresses of Lord Yancourt. " Yery strange, Miss Douglas, when Mr. Harcourt'a letter appears to me to warrant our arriving at a very opposite con- clusion." "I shall prove, sir," exclaimed Mr. Whalley, suddenly starting up, " by another witness, that Miss Douglas did, posi- tively and unconditionally, refuse Lord Yancourt's proposals ; and also the base, nefarious plot concocted at Mervyn Castle to impose such a worthless person as Lord Yancourt upon an art- less, unsuspecting young lady ; into which, I am sorry to add, Miss Douglas's guardian was unwittingly dragged by the false representations made to him there of Lord Yancourt's high character and large fortune ; the latter, no doubt, of great weight with guardians generally." During this short address, Serjeant Wrangler sat down; and Mr. Whalley, politely apologising to Miss Douglas for the annoyance she had experienced from her cross-examination, said she was now at liberty to rejoin her friends. Poor Blanche, as soon as handed down from the witness-box to a seat below, occupied by her aunt and Constance, overcome by the excessive heat of the court, as well as overpowered by her outraged feel- ings, fell into a swoon, from which Malcolm and Mrs. Gordon were attempting to rouse her, when Beauchamp (followed by Stiles and young Hazel) sprang to her relief Without a moment's hesitation, and before Malcolm could guess his intentions, the fainting form of Blanche Douglas was quickly raised in Beaucharap's arms (the two bold yeomen making way for his advance) carried out of court, and placed on a sofa in the magistrates' waiting-room. "Quick, neighbour Hazel," cried Stiles, "for a jug of cold water, whilst I throw up the windows." Blanche, unconscious of what had occurred, soon revived by the cold air and still colder water applied to her forehead and face, and Mrs. Gordon's carriage being in waiting, she was driven immediately home to the Priory, accompanied by her aunt and FURTHER DISCLOSURES. 231 Constance j Malcolm and Beauchamp being obliged t<3 1'etum to the court. The next witness called by Mr. "Whalley was Alice Hayward, Blanche's maid. " You went with your young mistress, I believe, to Marston Castle, in the month of last 1 " "Yes, sir." " You saw Lord Yancourt there, I conclude 1 " " Yes, sir — several times." '' So that you would be sure to know him again 1 " " Oh, yes ; he was a very particular-looking gentleman." " Was he very particular in his attentions to your young lady, IMiss Douglas 1 " " Not that I know of, sir." " Did she ever go out walking or driving with him alone 1 " " No, sir ; Miss Blanche would never dream of doing such a thing with a stranger." "With whom then did she generally set out for a walk 1 " " With Miss Mervyn, sir, accompanied sometimes by Lord Yancourt and Mr. Yernon." " Did IMiss Douglas ever allude to these walks on returning to her room 1 " " Yes, sir j the day before we left the Castle, she told me she felt so annoyed by Miss Mervyn and Mr. Yernon' s conduct, in leaving her purposely, as she believed, twice alone with Lord Yancourt, that she would never walk with her again." " Did she keep to this resolution ? " " Yes, sir ; the next morning, when Miss Mervyn entered her room, asking her to walk, she pleaded a bad headache, and would not go down-stairs till Mrs. Harcourt's carriage came to the door to take us home." " Did Miss Douglas ever make any other remarks to you about Lord Yancourt 1 " " She said, the night before she quitted Marston Castle, that she was very glad that their visit was finished ; that although entertaining sometimes, she had taken a great dislike to Lord Yancourt, and hoped never to meet him again." " Do you remember anything particular occumng two days after the ball at Chen-ington ? " *' Yes, sir ; after luncheon, Miss Blanche on that day ran up to her room, and began sobbing and crying as if her heart would break, because Mrs. Harcourt called her an ungrateful girl for refusing Lord Yancourt ; ' but I could not marry such 232 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNI>S. a man, Alice ; indeed, I never would,' she said, * if Aunt Har« court turned me out of her house for refusing him.' 'No more wouldn't I, my dear young mistress,' said I, *even to be made a lady of!' Then, the next morning, over comes Mrs, Gordon, and orders me to pack up her things directly, as Miss Blanche shouldn't stop another hour at Throseby, to be worried about that good-for-nothing man. Lord Vancourt, who, I heard her tell Mrs. Harcourt, was no better than he ehould be." "Well, Alice," interposed Mr. Whalley, "that will do ; now tell me what happened on the night you left the Priory to return to TLroseby 1 " Alice having related all the adventures on that occasion, with some comments of her own, was then asked if she could positively swear to Lord Yancourt being the man who attempted to drag her mistress from the carriage ; and on this point being most positive, Mr. Whalley said he need not detain her any longer, and Serjeant Wrangler prudently declined preventing her standing down from the witness-box. Kobert Conyers, examined by Mr. Whalley :— "How long have you known Miss Douglas ?" " Since childhood." "Have you had any opportunities of knowing her true character and disposition 1 " "Very many — having narrowly observed her, from being on very intimate terms with her relatives ; and for the last two years she has been more immediately under my own eye, from my instructing her in riding." " What has been your opinion of her, Mr. Conyers 1 " " She has ever been a timid, gentle girl, of a very affectionate but retiring disposition, with strong religious principles." " You were aware, I believe, of Lord Yancourt being invited to Marston Castle, and Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt being asked to Bpend a few days there at the same time, with their ward, Miss Douglas ? " "I was, sir; and two days previously to their leaving Throseby, I warned Miss Douglas of the plot which had been concocted to ensnare her, and the character I had heard of Lord Yancourt, at which she was exceedingly astonished." " You attended, I believe, the ball at Cherrington, and over- heard a conversation between Lord Yancourt and Mr. Yernon there, relative to this attempted abduction 1 " ^'Yes, Idid," BOB CONYERS ORATION 233 **'Did you notice Miss Douglas's behaviour, whilst dancing with Lord Yancourt ? " "Particularly; well knowing her dislike to the man, and the imploring look she cast on me, when he came to claim her hand for the dance, determined me to take my position close to her, whilst dancing with his lordship." " Thank you, Mr. Conyers ; " and as Whalley sat down, up rose the Serjeant instantly. "You say, Mr. Conyers, you warned Miss Douglas of the plot contrived against her, and of Lord Yancourt' s character, two days before she went to stay at the castle ? I should have thought, sir, the first person you ought to have made acquainted with this pretended plot was Mr. Harcourt, the young lady's guardian 1 " "I thought difierently, Mr. Serjeant Wrangler; but I directly informed Mrs. Gordon, her other guardian, of all I had heard, to whose discretion I could more safely confide this matter; and from what occurred subsequently, I am quite satisfied that she was the most proper person to l3e consulted." " You had good reasons, no doubt, sir, for trying to prevent Miss Douglas marrying Lord Yancourt ? you have heard of a friend in need being a friend indeed, and Mr. William Beau- champ is, I am told, a very particular friend of yours ? " " Mr. Beauchamp is, sir, I am proud to say, a very particular friend of mine ; a man of high principles, honourable feelings, and sound, good sense — the latter much needed by Mr. Serjeant Wrangler ; for how a learned barrister could have laboured, as you have done this day, to prove an absurdity, patent to the commonest understanding, I cannot comprehend ; you are striving to prove the consent of Miss Douglas to elope with Lord Yancourt. Now, sir, giving you the admission you try in vain to obtain, that she was a silly girl, caught at first sight by the handsome person of this man, and despising all the warnings she had received of his true character, want of for- tune, and lastly, of his actually being a married man ; Avhy, what on earth shoulH induce her to elope with him — her guardian consenting to his proposals'? for Mr. and Mrs. Har- court, blind to the revelations made to them, persisted to the last in taking his lordship's part, and the lady almost insisted on her niece marrying him. With these facts clear before you, how can you hope to persuade a child of ten years old, much less twelve men of common sense, that there existed any pre- tence wha.tever for Miss Douglas consenting to run away with 234 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. Lord Vancourt, nearly four hundred miles, to be married, when she could have been married at the parish church with her guardian's approval? This is all nonsense, Mr. Serjeant "Wrangler, perfectly absurd j and you are wasting the time of the court to no purpose." " Such is not my opinion, Mr. Conyers ; but I do not wish to occupy more of your time, which seems so precious to you ; nor to be favoured with another long-winded oration, which I have in vain attempted to interrupt." CHAPTER XXVI. Thomas Cahter next deposed to the conversation he overheard between Yernon and Harley on the evening of the day on which the hounds met at Marston Castle, and having given his evidence, was turning to go down, when Serjeant Wrangler exclaimed — " Stop, Mr. Carter, I have a word or two to say to you. So, you audacious traitor and eavesdropper, you have had the assurance to swear that you heard all this trumped-up story through a thick mahogany door ? " " Yes, sir, I did — every word of it." " Then you were in the habit, I conclude, of always listening at doors, to take some news into the servants' hall 1 " " No, sir, I never did it before or since ; but hearing the young squire's name mentioned in a loud, angry tone by Mr. Yernon, I thought some mischief was brewing against him, and so stopped to hear what it was." "And now you are in Lord Malcolm's service, you have determined to make out this cock-and-bull story, which you think sensible men, like the gentlemen of the jury, will believe from a discharged, worthless servant like yourself, who couldn't get a character from your last place." " I was not discharged, sir, from Lord Mervyn's service, but gave warning to leave, and never asked his lordship for a character." " No, I should think not, Thomas Carter, as you know well enough you had not the remotest chance of getting one." " My character is as good as yours," retorted Carter, " any day in the week." " Get down out of the box, you impudent ."liar," almost BEAUCHAMP IN THE WITNESS-BOX, 235 screamed "Wrangler ; '- 1 won't condescend to ask you another question." . William Beauchamp was then called, who related in a clear, straightforward manner all that passed under his observation on the night of the attempted abduction, for which, having been thanked by Mr. Whalley, he was then adch-essed by the Serjeant. " Pray, Mr. BeauchamjD, will you oblige me by stating from whom you obtained the information which directed you to Marston Common on that night 1 " "That question, sir," replied Beauchamp, "J. believe you cannot legally insist on my answering, although I should not hesitate in giving a reply to any other counsel except Serjeant Wrangler." " And why not to me, Mr. Beauchamp ? " " Simply because you have adopted a coarse, bullying manner towards the witnesses placed in this box to-day, to which I give you fair notice I shall not submit." "I am not responsible to you, Mr. Beauchamp, for the course of examination I choose to pursue towards other wit- nesses.'* "I am not quite sure of that, Mr. Serjeant Wrangler, when you attempt to take away the character of a poor man whom I have known from boyhood, and whose daily bread depends upon his honesty." " And do you call Thomas Carter an honest man, to betray his master ? " " Yes, sir, and a virtuous one too, to incur the risk of losing place and character in his attempt to save an innocent girl from a fate worse than death — from being made the victim of a dark, villanous conspiracy to rob her of her fair name and fortune, and consign her to the power of as unprincipled a scoundi-el as ever trod the earth." A murmur of applause ran through the court at this manly speech, which having subsided, Mr. Serjeant AVrangler continued in a subdued tone : " I did not ask you for the expression of your own particular opinion on this subject, Mr. Beauc'jiamp, with which we are well acquainted, and the motives which suggested your remarks." " My opinion, sir, will be the opinion of every disinterested person in this court at the conclusion of the trial, and I warn you to address no further impertinent language to myself, or question m^ motiveSj or " 236 THE MASTEB OF THE HOUNDS. *' What, sir 1 " interrupted Wrangler, now losing his tern* per ; " I may expect a horse-whipping, I suppose '( '* "Which would not be the first time," added Beauchamp, "that a well-merited castigation of that kind had been inflicted on the back of Serjeant Wrangler." A burst of laughter fol- lowed this announcement, during which the Serjeant fumed and fretted impatiently, showing by his fierce looks and quivering lips the storm raging within his breast ; but the cool, deter- mined eye of Beaucliamp fixed steadily upon his face, whilst a contemptuous smile curled his upper lip, warned him that he had met his match, and whispering his junior counsel to con- tinue the cross-examination, he sat down, saying he would not submit to these indecorous outbreaks, which were disgraceful to any court of justice. The junior counsel, Mr. Sweetman, a tall, thin young man, the reverse in appearance and manners to Serjeant Wrangler, then attempted to draw Beauchamp into a confes- sion of being the aggressor in the affi'ay, by first striking Lord Vancourt. " I was not the aggressor, sir," replied Beauchamp, in a firm voice ; " for Lord Vancourt had seized Miss Douglas by the arm, and was trying to drag her from the carriage when I reached the spot. I then pushed him away, and attempted to shut the carriage-door, upon which, instantly drawing a pistol, he fired at me, the ball grazing my face ; and seeing him again trying to draw another pistol from his pocket, it was then, and not till then, that in defence of my own life I shot him through the arm, to disable him from committing further outrage, not to take his life ; for had I been so inclined, I could, without doubt, have shot him dead on the spot." " You appear to have been actuated by a very chivalrous feeling, Mr. Beauchamp, in rushing to the rescue of this young lady — perhaps I might say by a stronger impulse." "I was actuated by that spirit, sir, which is dominant in the breast of every true Englishman — to protect a defenceless woman from insult and outrage." Again a cheer arose from the densely-crowded court. " From what occurred, Mr. Beauchamp, after Miss Douglas quitted the witness-box this day, I think there can be little doubt by what feelings you were really actuated." " You are now treading on dangerous ground, sir," replied Beauchamp, indignantly, " by presuming to question my motives^ or to doubt my words," IBE LAWtEH BAFFLED BIT MARK ROSIER. 23? " I beg pardon, Mr. Beaiichamp, if I have given you offence, and can only say it was not so intended by me." " There was sufficient cause for my rushing to the rescue of my sister's dearest friend," continued Beauchamp. " Oh, certainly, Mr. Beauchamp ; but evidently the young lady was your friend also, if not something more." " Then, sir, by your own showing, it is not possible she could have been a consenting party to this projected elopement, which your learned brother has been so fruitlessly attempting to prove." A sharp tug at his gown brought the young barrister immediately to his seat, Wrangler whispering in his ear, *' S>it down, sir ; you are playing the devil with our case ! " A triumphant smile played over the features of Mr. Whalley as he inquired of Mr. Sweetman whether he wished to ask Mr. Beauchamp any more questions. " No, sir," was the curt reply. Mark Rosier then ascended the witness-box, and gave his evidence in a short, conclusive manner, maintaining the fact of Beauchamp being shot at first by Lord Vancourt, and his being wounded in the side by John Thompson, who had turned king's evidence, identifying also the two prisoners, Harding and Jones, AS participators in the affray. " In fact, sir," said Mark, pointing to a scar under his eye, **this is a little favour from Mr. Harding's cudgel, which '11 remind me of that gentleman for some time to come." "I must trouble you with a few questions, Mr. Hosier," exclaimed Serjeant Wrangler, as he was leaving the box. " No trouble at all, sir," replied Mark, good-humouredly. " I think, Mr. Rosier, you are a person of that profession which filches pheasants and other game from gentlemen's preserves 1 " "And I think, Mr. Serjeant Wrangler," retorted Mark, boldly looking his adversary in the face and mimicking him to the life, " you are a person of that profession which filches money from gentlemen's pockets ; " which caused a loud laugh among the crowd, "How dare you, sir, speak to me in that disrespectful language ? " demanded Wrangler, looking red-hot with passion. " How dare you, sir, accuse me of robbing gentlemen'^ preserves 1 I'll make you prove your words, Lawyer Wrangler, trying to take away poor men's characters." "Will you tell me, Mr. Rosier, that yo^ have never 238 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. killed game belonging to some gentlemen even now in this court r' " I won't tell you, sir, whether I have or not, because you ha' n't any right to ask such questions ; but I'll answer that to any real gentleman in this court, or out of it, that puts it in a civil way." " So you pretend to swear, Mr. Kosier, that on this dark night, when a man could scarcely see his hand before his face, you saw Lord Yancourt fire at Mr. Beauchamp, you being ten yards distant from him ? " " I didn't say ten yards, sir, as I wasn't five from the young squire at the time, and if 'twere as dark again I could have seen the flash in the pan, and which side it come from." "And how did you know Lord Yancourt so well, Mr. Rosier, as to distinguish him on this dark night from other men 1 " " Because I had seen him several times, sir, afore, and he wasn't a man to be mistaken for another." " Oh, very handsome, I suppose 1 " " No, sir, he warn't that to my mind ; but a tall, long- legged chap, with a large hook nose, and rat's eyes, with shaggy eyebrows, and black whiskers." " And pray, Mr. Mark, what was the reward you got from Mr. Beauchamp for preventing this runaway match 1 " " Well, sir, I baint quite so sharp a hand as a lawyer to pocket the fee afore hand, and I ha'n't got nothing yet but this scar in the face and a dig in the back from that cowardly valet ; and as to Miss Blanche running away with this long- legged lord, she'd ha' served him in the same fashion, if he hadn't held her arm, as the pretty chambermaid at the King's Head served you last night when you took liberties with her, by giving him a good smack in his face." Boars of laughter followed, which for some few minutes it was impossible to suppress, and even the grave features of the judge relaxed into a smile. *' I appeal to your lordship," cried the excited Wrangler, "to commit this witness for contempt of court !" " Contempt of counsel, you ought to have said, Mr. Serjeant AYrangler," replied the judge ; " but if gentlemen of the bar will play with edged tools, they must take the consequences ; in such cases I never interfere." " Yery well, my lord, then I shall sit down." The last witness called for the prosecution was the wounded THE VEKDICT AND SENTENCE. 2S9 tnan, Jolm Thomson, who underwent a long cross-examination, without his evidence being in the least shaken. His story was too simple and truthful to be contravened. He and his two accomplices received ten pounds each from Lord Yancourt's valet, called Francois le Blanc, to assist his lordship in carrying off JVIiss Douglas, and were to receive ten pounds more from the head keeper the next morning, when the job was done, who engaged they should not lose their situations, if found out. He did not know whether Lord Merv}^n was privy to the plot or not, and would only say what he knew to be true. 'No witness being called for the defence, as Serjeant Wrangler had not one he could trust in cross-examination, the judge then addressed the jury, telling them the case was so exceedingly clear against the prisoners, that it was unnecessary for him to detain them with any remarks upon the evidence ; and immediately after, the foreman rising, said they had not a moment's hesitation in returning a verdict of guilty against both prisoners, which was received with loud shouts and waving of ladies' handkerchiefs, and one cheer more from the farmers who thronged the court. When silence was restored, the judge, after a severe lecture to the prisoners on the enormity of the offence in which they had been implicated, and the murderous nature of the assault, by which several lives had been so nearly sacrificed, sentenced them to two years' imprison- ment with hard labour. Before they were removed from the bar. Lord Malcolm rose, requesting permission to say a few words in mitigation of the sentence just pronounced upon the prisoners, which being conceded, he begged to assure his lordship that his sole object in commencing this prosecution having been to vindicate his cousin's fair name from any complicity or the shadow of suspicion of being in the remotest degree a consenting party to this pretended elopement with Lord Vancourt, he could derive no satisfaction from the punishment of these men, who were the; least guilty. " Of the principal, my lord, I can only say, that I think scarcely any punishment would be too severe, and his case is the more aggravated from the vile attempts to cast aspersions on my cousin's character, by endeavouring to prove her capable of falling in love and agreeing to elope with a married man, for as such Lord Yancourt was represented to her and myself before meeting him at the Cherrington ball. From the first day of his intro^kiction to her at Marston Castle, my cousin 240 THE MASTER OF TfiE HOUNDS. entertained a decided antipathy to him, having often told me she felt quite terrified in his presence, from the fierce expression of his looks when excited ; and I am quite certain, had his character and conduct been unexceptionable, nothing would have induced her to marry Lord Yancourt. I hold in my hand, my lord, a letter which of itself would prove the con- coction of this plot at Marston Castle, written by one of its chief projectors, wholly unsolicited by me (and whose hand- writing is well known to many in this court), making a full disclosure of this nefarious scheme. For reasons which your lordship will understand when seeing the signature, I have forborne to have this letter publicly read in court, but as at once establishing the entire truth of Thomas Carter's evidence, I now submit it to jour lordship's perusal." The judge having read it carefully through, returned it to Lord Malcolm, saying, "I fully appreciate your honourable motives, Lord Malcolm, in withholding this incontestable proof of the origin of this disgraceful conspiracy, which fully confirms all Thomas Carter has asserted." " May I hope, then, my lord, you will remit a portion of the punishment awarded to the prisoners at the bar, who have both young families depending upon them? and considering that they have already been imprisoned some time, I think six months longer will answer the ends of justice." " The offence of which they have been convicted is a very serious one. Lord Malcolm, but at your intercession the term shall be abridged." The two 23risoners fell on their knees, expressing their con- trition and gratitude to Lord Malcolm for his kindness, who^ after thanking the judge, left the court. CHAPTER, XXVII. The hunting season liad now drawn to its close, the last appointment made for Bampton House, and invitations sent by the old squire to all the neighbouring families for a grand dinner party, to conclude with a ball in the evening on the day when the hounds met on the lawn for the last day's hunting. W ith the exception of INIr. and Mrs. Harcourt, whose conduct in reference to their ward since the trial had been severely A NEW NEIGHBOUR. 241 commented upon, as highly reprehensible, if nothing worse, no excuses were received from any other family, so that the long dining-table was crowded with guests, a second table being laid out for the juniors, at wliich Fred Beauchamp presided, as many more arrived than were expected ; in fact, the hospitality of the old squire was so unbounded, and his dinner parties so agreeable and devoid of formality, that the heads of families did not scruple to take any friends who might be staying with them at the time. Constance, supported on one hand by Lord Malcolm, and Sir Lionel on the other, did the honours with her accustomed grace, faced by the old squire, who divided his attentions between Lady Markham and Mrs. Compton. Will Beau- champ sat between Mrs. Gordon and Blanche, the latter having Captain Markham on her right hand ; Gwynne, Conyers, Tyler, Coventry, and others ranging themselves in order or out of order, without regard to priority or ceremony, with the partners they had selected. Selina, who always felt more at home with the old squire than in her own house, kept the middle of the table in an uproar by her quaint and witty sayings, which no frowns from Lady Markham could suppress. " Ah ! " she remarked to Conyers, " mamma may shake her head at me till she shakes it off. Bob, but I am on the right side of the fence to-night, with the old squire to back me up. But who on earth is that fright of a woman opposite, with a face like a cook ? " " Hush ! Selina ; that is Mrs. Winterbottom, the wife of that little round-faced, red-nosed man, sitting next Mrs. Compton ; a retired brewer, who has lately purchased a large estate lying between the Holt and the forest, so that the squire was obliged to do the civil thing, and invite him to Bampton, to save the foxes." " Goodness ! what a name, Bob : she may feel very wintry below, but there is more than summer heat above, to judge by those peony-looking cheeks." Gwynne, who sat next to the lady, seeing the sort of person he had to deal with, kept plying her with champagne every time it was handed round the table, until she exclaimed, " Lorks, Sir Lucius, I feel quite swipey already." "Oh, never mind," replied Gwynne, ready to burst with suppressed laughter ; ^' champagne goes for nothing, just puts people into spirits — that's all." " Heavens, what a woman ! ' exclaimed Selina, in fits of 242 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. laughter; ^^swipey already! Why, Bob, she will be roaring drunk before dinner is over, and under the table." " By Jove ! Selina, if you run on in this fashion, I must bolt, as I am nearly choked already in bolting my dinner ; pray be quiet, can't you ? " " (Test impossible, Bob ; can't be done. I have set my mind on a regular spree to-night, and suspect my situation before morning will be about the same as Mrs. Featherbottom's — I shall feel demmed swij^ey. Eh ! aw ! the Captain looks as if he had swallowed his fork instead of his fish ; what does he say, Bob?" " That you are a deuced deal too bad, Selina, 'pon honour." " Oh, indeed ! perhaps the life-guardsman intends changing Miss Winterbottom into Mrs. Markham ; lots of tin, I suppose, with beer and stout gratis." At this moment, the old squire, wishing to show every oivilifcy to Mrs. Winterbottom, requested the honour of taking wine with her. " Why, really, Squire Beauchamp," replied the lady appealed to, " I mus'n't refuse you, I suppose ; but my neighbour here. Sir Lucius, has been flushing my glass with champagne, until I am become, as our John says, uncomfortably lushy." " Then let me recommend," said the squire (scarcely able to preserve his gravity during the titters which followed this peech), " a glass of good old sherry, which will set all to rights gain." "I'll take your advice. Squire Beauchamp, as that wisliy- ivashy stuff always makes me feel as if I had the cholica mobus." ^' Mercy on us!" cried Selina; "that summer-topped woman will be the death of me. Bob ; but my lady mamma looks un- utterable things, wondering, no doubt, how the old squire dare ask her to sit at table with such a person as Mrs. Winter- bottom." "Well, Selina, it can't be helped now, and I daresay my old friend feels uncomfortable enough at such ATilgarity ; but her better half is passable enough, and the daughter tolerably presentable and good-looking, and a fortune of a hundred thousand pounds (so report goes) will make her a very hand- some girl." " Ay, ay. Bob, money is the magnifying glass ; the most plain, disagreeable woman becomes a perfect houri in the eyes of some men, when bedecked with jewels and lacquered very A CATASTROPHE. ^43 with gold dust ; but what would Will Beauohamp say to Miss Wiuterbottom, with her hundred thousand pounds ? " " That she might remain Miss Wiuterbottom to the endi uf her life, for anything he would insinuate to the contrary, Selina ; and Bob Conyers is pretty much of the same opinion." " Glad to hcur you say so, Bob, for I began to think yoTS might be caught by a golden hook at last." " No, no, my dear girl j I shall not make a fool of myself in my old age by marrying a person with whom I could have na community of feelings or ideas, and who does not know a duck from a goose, except on the table, perhaps not there." " But, Bob, don't you think our funny friend opposite looks rather too much of a chicken about her gills 1 " " What can you mean, Selina 1 " " Too juvenile about her locks or head gear ; don't you understand 1 — borrowed feathers." " Oh ! I see, wears a wig — gad ! it looks very like one ; but, by Jupiter ! the murder's out," exclaimed he, as one of the footmen, in reaching over Mrs. Wiuterbottom, to place a dish on the table, caught the button of his sleeve in her hair, drag- ging off her head-dress, and exposing her closely-cropped cranium to view. " Drat the man ! " cried Mrs. Wiuterbottom, aiming a blow at the astonished footman, which taking effect on Gwynne's nose, nearly knocked him out of his chair. " What's the fool stariug at 1 " (as he stood for a moment perfectly aghast at the exposure he had occasioned, and then tried to repair the mischief by replacing the head-dress, the back part in front, thereby eliciting renewed laughter). " Let it alone, I say, you stupid oaf!" And, with a jerk or two on either side, the infuriated lady succeeded in adjusting her attire. " Ah ! miss," she said, addressing Selina, *' you may laugh now, but the time will come when you will be glad enoiAgh to sail under false colours, if you don't already, with your pink and white cheeks." " If I do paint my face, Mrs. Summertop," retorted Selina, " it isn't of one colour, like yours, 7'ed entire.''^ " My name isn't Summertop, Miss Imperanse, but Winter* bottom." " Oh, indeed, ma am; very aristocratic, euphonious name, no doubt, in the frozen regions of Lapland, whence, I conclude, your origin is derived; but the Fates defend me from being p 2 ^4.4 THE MASTER OF THE HOXJNDS. a "Winterbottom — half hot, half cold — or a mermaid in petti* coats." Gwynne, fearing some violent explosion between the now in- furiated fair ones, addressed some observation to the excited dame near him, which checked further retorts ; and good order once more prevailed, to the great delight of the more staid por- tion of the company, who began to feel very uncomfortable as to the issue of this combat of words between the two female belligerents. Beauchamp whispered to Blanche — " I suspect Bob will have his hands over-full, should he prevail on Selina to become Mrs. Conyers — poor fellow ! he will be ever in hot water, with her cutting speeches ; the * Taming of the Shrew ' is nothing in comparison with the work he will have to perform in reducing Selina to anything like orderly conduct." " She is really very provoking sometimes," replied Blanche ; ** and says such extraordinary things, that strangers must think her a most eccentric person, and very ill-natured; but what W^ould you do, William, with such a wife 1 " " I should very soon do without her, Blanche, if by any fatality such a lot could be Assigned me." " You would not feel jealous of her, William, would you 1 " ehe inquired, with an arch smile, " No, my dear ; I never could love her sufficiently for that feeling to arise." "Well, then, I think, Mr. Will, I shall attempt to say •mart, sharp things like Selina, to keep flatterers at a distance." " Reserve and dignity of manners are sufficient repellents, my dear girl, without sarcasm or invective, to which I am quite sure my own dear Blanche, from her naturally gentle disposi- tion, will never have recourse." " My dear William, joii think me a great deal more perfect than I am ; but I must try to keep up to your standard. And now, as Constance is rising, don't sit too long over your wine^ or (in a whisper) get tipsy, mio caro" When the ladies left the room. Sir Lionel rebuked Bob Con- yers for not keeping his daughter in better order duriug dinner. " Ay, ay. Sir Lionel," retorted Bob, " very pretty, indeed, to lecture me about keeping her in order, after you have been allowing her to run riot all her life at Barton Court ; and now, finding her incorrigible, you expect I am to pull her up all at once, like a confirmed runaway horse." "Well, Conyers, you will always have it that the most mien AS INTRODUCTION. 245 chievous puppies make the best hounds. So, by your own argu- ment, Selina will make a good wife, when she is entered for matrimony." Leaving the gentlemen to discuss their wine and politics, we will now turn our attention to the ladies. CHAPTER XXYIIL To make amends for Selina' s rudeness to Mrs. Winterbottom, Constance deemed it incumbent on her to smooth that lady's ruffled feathers by introducing her to Mrs. Gordon and Blanche ; and she so far succeeded in restoring her to a more complacent state of mind, when, other company beginning to arrive, her at- tentions were required elsewhere. Miss Honori a Winterbottom, in addition to very pretty, intelligent features, was highly ac- complished also, and presented so striking a contrast to her mamma, that few could believe her to be descended from a stock so plebeian ; and both Mrs. Gordon and Blanche were much pleased with her unassuming manners, which, in a great mea- sure, compensated for her mother's great deficiency in those essentials. As Beauchamp entered the ball-room, his eyes beamed with delight on beholding Blanche Douglas seated by the side of the young stranger, whom he believed she was patronising on his account ; and he was advancing towards her, when Captain Markham arrested his progress for a moment. "Beauchamp, my good fellow, just introduce me to that girl. Miss Winter, will you. Oh ! demmit, what a name ! eh ! ah ! unpronounceable ; but, *pon honour, she is a devilish fine girl, notwithstanding that she-dragon of a mother ; they say, lots of tin into the bargain." " Come on then, Markham." And in a few seconds the life- guardsman, having made his bow, was parading Miss Honoria round the room, in defiance of the sneers and jesting remarks of his sister, Selina. On accepting his profiered arm, Beauchamp thanked Blanche for her kind attention to the nameless young lady. "This I consider, dear girl, as a personal favour to my lather and myself, after Selina's rude behaviour, at dinner, to her mother." 246 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " E,eally, William, slie is a well-educated and highly-accom- plished girl ; speaks French, Italian, and German fluently ; and is very unpretending and unaffected." "lam delighted to find you are pleased with her, dear Blanche, and as they are to be neighbours, we must endeavour to keep on neighbourly terms with the family, however objec- tionable in some points ; which is the usual penalty attached to every master of fox-hounds, and in some instances a very disagreeable one. We are obliged to take all fish that come into our net, or within our province — good or coarse alike." " Well, William, and a very good thing, too ; or you might have become very proud and haughty, which I suspect you are naturally inclined to be, from that curl of your upper lip, which I have so often noticed when a boy, and I almost dread you will become a tyrant in your old age." " You have had, dear gu-1, a fair trial of my temper and dis- position, and as the boy is, so will be the man ; his natural inclinations, although disguised from the world, remain unal- tered — restrained, but not subdued. No man is born without some failings; mine are as well known to you as myself; and although my best efibrts are used to conquer them, they are rebellious subjects still, and will burst forth sometimes into open hostility : therefore, dear gui, pause before it is too late. Danby is, although hasty occasionally, perhaps a better temper than myself — neither jealous nor captious, and will, no doubt, make an excellent husband. But in high life, where frequently the wife goes one way, and her husband the other, there is little opportunity for conjugal differences to arise. The Marchioness of Danby will have her own estabhshment of servants and carriages — her box at the opera — go where she likes, and do as she pleases, without consulting her lord's wishes ; indeed, except with the chance of meeting at other people's tables or parties^ man and wife in fashionable life seldom come in contact with each other, and a tete-ct-tete is a thing almost unknown." " How very delightful, William ! what an interesting picture of domestic felicity ! really, I think that sort of life would suit me exactly. What a pity you are not in the peerage ! Lady Beauchamp would be such a pretty title !" "Your jest, dear Blanche, will, in all human probability, be turned into a reality, much sooner, perhaps, than you imagine." " What can you mean ? " she inquired, with surprise. " I may confide to you now^, dear gii'l, a secret which has AN EAELDOM IN PROSPECTIVE. 217 been confined to my own breast, and known only to one besides, my own father, that he is the nearest relation of the Earl of Annandale, who is now in his eighty-ninth year, and heir to his title and estates, the next in succession having died only a few years since ; but as the aged peer is still hale and hearty, not- withstanding his advanced age, my father has never alluded to the subject, and you, my own dear Blanclie, are the only other person who has been made acquainted with this secret, which I trust implicitly to your keeping. But after your generous, confiding love, it is right you should know that the object of your choice is not, even in a worldly point of view, undeserving your preference." Blanche being too much lost in thought to make any reply, Beauchamp said, " Why, Blanche, is not this very agreeable news ? " " I scarcely know, William; for although I ought to rejoice at your bright prospect, my ideas of perfect happiness are so identified with the name of William Beauchamp and a quiet country life, that I dread entering on a higher sphere, where, as you say, we may be so much separated." " Dear, dear Blanche, do not conjure up such improbabilities in our case ; I am not Lord Beauchamp yet, and may not be for some years ; but, as I have before told you, a man's disposition does not change; you have the best security in my jealous feel- ings against our ever becoming a fashionable couple, and my chief happiness, as you very well know, will be derived, like yours, from a country life ; so now, dear girl, don't anticipate evil, and you may tell Aunt Gordon our secret, with injunctions not to betray it ; you will then hear what she says to the pros^ pect of her two pets becoming Lord and Lady Beauchamp." The first dance being concluded, Beauchamp resigned Blanche to Mrs. Gordon's care, and sought another partner in the person fif Miss Honoria Winterbottom, to the delight of her mamma, and disgust of Selina, who had taken a decided antipathy to the whole family. "Well, I declare," exclaimed Mrs. Winterbottom, as her daughter was led away, " young Squire Beauchamp is the hand- somest, best-mannered man in the room j don't you think so, Miss Douglas ? " "He is considered rather good-looking," replied Blanche, with a slight blush, and arch expression towards her aunt. " Rather good-looking, indeed — hoity, toity ! he is down- right handsome^ miss, and carries himself like a lord, I only 248 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. wish he'd take a fancy to our Honoria ; and a hundred thousand pounds down aint to be sneered at." " That's more than I do," thought Blanche, as she rose t« take the arm of Sir Lucius, to whom she was engaged for the next quadrille. " Well, ma'am," continued Mrs. Winterbottom to Aunt Gor- don, " that Sir Lucius seems a good sort of a body — looks and speaks like a gentleman, but he is a plain piece of goods, and won't do after the young squire. Lady Gwynne would sound very well, no doubt, but then Honoria says she won't marry any one she don't fall desperately in love with ; and I shouldn't ''^ncy the baronet myself, even at my time of life." " Then/' asked Aunt Gordon, not a little amused, " what do you think of Captain Markliam ? he is heir to a baronetcy, and will succeed to a beautiful place and large fortune on Sir Lionel's decease." "He's too much of a fop to please me, Mrs. Gordon, although tolerably good-looking and gentleman-like ; but papa can't endure dandies, and they would never agree, I'm sure. No, ma'am, if I had the pick and choose of the room, the young squire would come out first; and as you and he seem great friends, can't you just give him a hint that we sha'n't be par- ticular about a few odd thousands, if he fancies our Honor ?" " You may rest assured on one point," replied Mrs. Gordon, " that Mr. William Beauchamp will never marry for money, and any allusion to your daughter's large expectations would be quite sufficient to keep him at a distance from her." " Oh, goodness me ! then pray don't mention the subject, my dear madam," said Mrs. Winterbottom, " for here he comes with Honoria." After addressing a few words to the mamma on resigning her daughter, Beauchamp sat down by Mrs. Gordon, saying, " You must not think me rude, dear aunt, if I do not remain very long with you, since I have to enact the part of master of the ceremonies to-night j but I shall come for you and Blanche when supper is ready." " William," whispered Mrs. Gordon, " have you been lectur- ing Blanche again 1 she looks very serious." " No, dear aunt ; but I told her a secret which she is to reveal to yourself only, and that which made me feel very happy has rendered her sad ; but now she is coming, and will tell you herself — so I must be off." As Blanche resumed her seat, Mrs. Gordon inquired in a A TROUBLESOSIE YOUNG LADY. 249 low tone what had caused her such anxious looks, when speak- ing with Beauchamp. " Something which William has been telling me, dear aunt ; but you must not divulge the secret. His father is now next heir to an earldom." " Good Heavens ! Blanche, you are joking ! *' " No, aunt, indeed I am not ; " and she then repeated Beau champ's communication. "And has this made you look'so serious to-night, you silly child 1 " exclaimed Mrs. Gordon. " Yes, dear aunt ; I fear he may become a man of the world, and all my dreams of happiness with him, as my constant friend and companion, would then be at an end." " My dear Blanche, do not worry yourself thus unnecessarily. "William Beauchamp will never change — why should he more than Charles 1 you don't like him less because he is Lord Malcolm 1 or Constance either — nonsense, dear child, you ought to feel as happy as I do at this joyful news. Beally, it has put me in such spirits, I think I shall have a dance with the old squire before the ball closes. Only think the surprise of Mrs. Harcourt when she hears my favourite announced some day as Lord Beauchamp. Oh, Blanche, this is indeed a delight- ful anticipation ! how we shall triumph over that match-making pair ! But, as William suggests, we will keep silence on this subject for the present ; so now dance away, child, and look as happy and cheerful as you ought to feel." Beauchamp's next partner was Selina Markham, whom he deemed it necessary to lecture on her behaviour to Mrs. Winter- bottom. " Don't lecture me. Will Beauchamp," exclaimed that self- willed young lady ; " your reproofs to me are like water on a duck's back. I don't care a rap for them, and shall treat that odious woman as I please." "Yery well, Selina; if you are determined to raise up another enemy to our sport in the very centre of our best hunt- ing country, pray do so, Conyers and myself cannot but feel greatly obliged by your kind interference. One such person as Lord Mervyn is quite enough in any country, without your conjuring up a new opponent, whom it is our policy to con- ciliate, now he has become a landed proprietor in our neigh- bourhood. We consulted Sir Lionel before inviting them here, and his opinion decided us, when you rush in like a firebrand to set us all in a blaze." 250 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. "Then, I suppose, Will Beaucliamp, I must cry ^peccavi/ and beg that vl^lgar woman's pardon.'* " No, Selina ; only spare her for the future." " Very well, I will let her off as easy as possible on your account ; and now tell me when you and Blanche are to be married, as since the trial, when you took her up in your arms and carried her out of court, every one says it is a settled thing ; the affair with Hooknose created a suspicion, which your other act confirmed." " Every one is wrong, then, Selina, for it is not a settled thing yet ; and I can no more tell you when we are to be married than you can." "Ah, Master Will, it's no use attempting to throw dust in 7)17/ eyes, for Blanche tells by her looks what she will not confess with her lips; and that little affair with Lord Danby satisfied him, as well as myself, that you are the winner of the prize." " Should that be the case, Selina, you will not be kept in the dark ; but we are now talking of what never may and cannot happen for some time, knowing the Harcourts' love and esteem for your humble servant. But people say that you and Conyers are down on the list matrimonial — what say you, guilty or not guilty?" " I shall not plead at all, Will, and keep you in the dark, as you do me.'* " Well, Selina, curiosity is not one of my besetting sins ; so I can afford to wait, and will only add, that, were I a woman, 1 should prefer Bob Conyers to every other man in the county — but hej'e he comes — don't tell him, however, what I say, and I will go and hunt for Blanche, to stand your vis-a-vis.'' Beau champ soon returned with his fair .partner, now radiant with smiles and in high spiiits, leaning on his arm in all the confidence of her deep and all-absorbing affection. " Now, dear girl," he whispered, " you look again like my own dear Blanche," as her eyes met his with an expression of soft, unutterable love ; " and don't ever doubt the power of fascination you possess to hold me for ever to your side." " If you begin to flatter me, I shall begin to doubt you Mr. Will." " Well, then, I will lecture you instead." " No, William, I will listen to no lectures to-night." " Then I will advise you that Selina has been trying to fish out of me all about our engagement, on which I have given her ANOTHER LOVE-MATCH. 251 no information ; so be on your guard, althougli she suspects how the case stands." "But surely, William, you may now safely speak to Mr. Harcourt; he will not refuse the heir presumptive to an earldom." " Me he would refuse, v/ere I heir to a dukedom, under his present lacerated feelings, which must have time to subside; but we will consult Aunt Gordon on the subject, although my own impression is, that he will most decidedly refuse my pro- posals, and I fear, dear Blanche, that we must have a little more patience." " For myself, I do not care," she replied ; "but it vexes me to see you obliged to use subterfuge and evasion, which imply a doubt of my true feelings towards you, and place you in such a humiliating position." " Talk not of humiliation, dear Blanche ; you have made me one of the proudest men in existence, and you alone can humble me j for the rest, remember, ' the course of true love never did run smooth,' and I am content to suffer anything for you, so that I am sure of your love." " Of that you ought to be doubly assured, since I have the prospect of becoming Lady Beauchamp, You are quite safe now, William, if not before — so don't feel jealous again," she replied with a laugh. "Now let us go and sit with Aunt Gordon until supper time, for I shall not dance again till I have had a glass of wine, and aunty says she shall drink the health of Lord and Lady Beauchamp in a bumper." As Blanche and Beauchamp were approaching Mrs. Gordou, they observed the old squire and her in earnest conversation, evidently engrossed with each other. " Stay, Blanche," Avhispered Beauchamp ; " my governor looks as if he were making love to aunty ; let us turn aside elsewhere.'' " Oh, William, how can you talk such nonsense 1 " " My dear girl, there is no nonsense in the case, but just th«) reverse ; the squire considers your aunt perfection, and there we must both concede he is not far out in his reckoning. Well, then, what are they both to do, when Malcolm carries off Constance from Bampton, and I run away with you from the Priory? which I propose doing onthe very first fitting opportunity, provided you don't give me the slip in London, and run away with some one else first. There will be an old solitary man in one house, and a (we must not say old) solitary lady in another. 252 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. Under these circumstances, as tliey both suit each other so exactly in disposition, temper, and habits (fox hunting ex- cepted, and even so far I think the governor might get aunty into the kennel, although the whole household could not put her on horseback), as houses cannot be joined together, the next best thing to be thought of is to unite the owners — there would then be one house for the old, and the other for the young pair of birds." " Oh, William ! don t talk so foolishly ; Aunt Gordon would never give up the Priory, and your father would never live anywhere but at Bampton; so your anticipations are very unlikely to be realised ; but I suppose we must divide the year between them." *' No doubt, Blanche, that will be expected of us, as dutiful children, although Malcolm and Constance have promised to spend their winter at Bampton ; still, 1 cannot help thinking the governor is bent on trying to persuade your aunt that Beancliamp is a prettier name than Gordon ; and as she always will call me ' her dear boy,' my idea is, that the squire will assail her in this her weak point, and make me a stepping-stone to my promotion as her stepson. But, my gracious ! Blanche, as Mrs. Winter says, don't hallude to this delicate tor peck with aunty, or I shall get my locks pulled and my eai*s boxed for my imperance. Lorhs, my dear, just observe how serious they both look; depend upon it, the governor has popped the question. ' " What possesses you to-night, William, I cannot conceive, to run on in this silly strain." "Why, my dear, the fact is, like Mrs. Summertop, I'm rather swipey^ I suspect." " Then you are fit company only for that lady, William." " Yery well, my dear, if such is your opinion, I will go and make love to her daughter forthwith, as Aunt Gordon tells me I am a great favourite with the young lady. What say you to that proposition ? " " Oh, go, by all means, if you prefer her society to mine,** replied Blanche, rather testily. " That not being exactly the case, you naughty child, I shall keep your arm, and torment you until the supper hour ; never- theless, I am not swipey, although intoxicated with delight at seeing Lady Beauchamp, that is to be, in such buoyant s])irits. That's all, my dear ; so now we will just take a peep into the dining-room, and see how things are arranged for the supper.** PREPAEATlOi^S FOR THE LONDON SEASON. 253 Where we may leave the company to the enjoyment of the good things provided for them, and jump at once to the conclusion of the ball, when the old Squire of Bampton was joining with Mrs. Gordon in the last dance of the night — "Sir Koger de Coverley," as it has been generally called, though by some considered a misnomer. CHAPTER XXIX. The month of May, with its balmy breezes, had arrived, and Mrs. Gordon, with Blanche and Constance, were preparing to change their quiet, rational, rural enjoyments for the bustle and fever of London life, Lady Malcolm having insisted on all three taking up their abode with her, for the season, in her old family mansion in Grosvenor Square. The streets of London were not wholly unknown to Blanche Douglas, who had spent the two previous summers with Mrs. Harcourt, for the benefit of the first masters, to complete her education ; but the gaieties, festivities, and places of amusement in the mighty Babylon had hitherto remained as a sealed picture-book, which was now to be opened to her expectant view, and already excited imagi- nation. A first season in London, to young girls generally, is, like the " Open Sesame " in the Arabian Nights, looked forward to with as much curious avidity as the opening of a Pandorean box, which is to display to view a perfect fairy scene, for enjoy- ment of the most exalted description ; and it must be admitted that Blanche Douglas was not devoid of pleasurable anticipa- tions from a visit to the gay metropolis, that pleasure being greatly enhanced by having her friend Constance as a partici- pator in all her contemplated gaieties and amusements. There was one great drawback, however, acting as a drag on the wheels of her fancy, which otherwise might have run on without a check — the thought of leaving William Beauchamp (who had now become her second self) alone in the country. There was also another unpleasant reflection which would sometimes obtrude. Constance had invited Miss Honoria, at the ball, to stay a few days at Bampton ; and that romantic young person having taken it into her head or heart to fall desperately in love with her brother (as a grateful return, I suppose, for his ^54 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. sister's kindness), had let fall certain hints in her confidentia, communications to Constance, which revealed the nature of her feelings towards William Beauchamp. Constance again, in joke, had warned Blanche of the danger to be apprehended from this formidable rival. " Keally, Blanche," she observed one day, " I don't like leaving William behind us, at the mercy of mother and daughter ; for what with bags of money on one side, which are daily increasing in number, and such winning smiles, on the other, from the young lady, who has evidently made up her mind to have the young squire, whether he will or no, we are in what I call rather a disagreeable lix." " Don't talk so absurdly, Constance," replied Blanche ; " as if WilMam would marry a brewer's daughter, to be saddled with Buch a vulgar mother-in-law, for a hundred thousand a year, instead of as many thousand pounds." " I'm not afraid of his being tempted by money bags, my dear Blanche ; but by the bewitching smiles of that little Siren Honoria, who, it must be confessed, sings and plays beautifully, and is much more highly accomplished than I had any concep- tion of before her visit to Bampton." "Then, Constance, his professions of love and attachment to me would be a hollow pretence," replied Blanche. " Come, sister dear, don't take my jokes in earnest, and visit my raillery on poor, dear AVilliam's head, who, I believe, will ever prove as constant, and turn as true to Blanche Douglas, as the needle to the Pole. Don't fear, my love, that the wealth of Croesus, or the beauty of Hebe, could shake William's loyalty ; but you must ask him to join us in London, and that will be sufficient to ensure his presence." The day before the breaking-up of the establishment at the Priory, Beauchamp rode over early and inflicted a long lecture on Blanche, which he deemed necessary previous to her first entrance on this new sphere, so surrounded with allurements and temptations. "The routine of fashionable life in London, my dear girl, said he, " is comprehended in one word — dissipation. Night there is turned into day, and morning into night. You dine at eight o'clock in the evening, go at ten or eleven to balls and parties, which generally last till three or four o'clock in the morning ; come home tired and fevered with the heat of the rooms, and retire to yaur roost when the birds have left theirs to warble forth thei»T matutinal songs. Breakfast about eleven ; A LECTURE. 255 pay or receive visits from three to five, then take your ride or drive in the Park, and return home to dress for dinner about seven. This, with some little variation, is the usual every-day routine of life to those who move in the first circles of fashion- able society. But there is one place of amusement, dear girl, although quite the fashion to patronise, which is a disgrace to any Christian country, and that is, without hesitation I say so, the Opera House. Against the singing and music of the Opera, which are, of course, of the very highest order, I have nothing to urgej but the after-piece, or ballet, is an exhibition from which every pure-minded woman must turn with shame and disgust j and I am quite sure that, if perforce obliged to witness one scene of this kind, you will never be induced to be present at another. Although I hope you may be safely trusted to Malcolm's or Aunt Gordon's care, who will protect you from witnessing all such objectionable exhibitions." "And yet, dear William, without you I shall feel desolate and lonely; and you know, but for your promise of joining me in town, I would never have accepted Lady Malcolm's invita- tion. Tell me, then, when I may expect you there; and if you love, do not disappoint me." " Will this day week, Blanche, satisfy you, giving time for a few arrangements which I must make before leaving home 1 " "Yes, William, I will be content, if you cannot name an earlier day." "If possible, dear girl, I will leave home sooner; but by this day week, if living and well, you shall see me at this hour in Grosvenor Square." " Thank you, my own dear William, for your kind compli- ance with my wishes, which has made me quite happy; although I now sincerely wish I had never consented to leave the Priory, for I have no pleasure anywhere without you." " For which pretty little complimentary speech, my love, I must reward you in my usual way. And now, recollect, I shall expect every day a true and j)articular account of all your thoughts and doings in London, until you are once more under my individual espiomiage.^^ The promise being given, terminated the interview between the lovers ; and Blanche returned to the house to complete her preparations for the morrow, Beauchamp having agreed to dine and sleep at the Priory that night, and see them ofi* on their journey early the next morning. Beauchamp, being of a very reflective and rather melancholy 256 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. turn of mind, was sitting before dinner in an easy chair, with his face buried in his hands, absorbed in sad forebodings, a heavy sigh having just escaped his lips, when a geutle hand was laid upon his arm, and a sweet voice whispered in his ear — " Dear William, what has caused that deep sigh 1 " " The thought, my own precious child," said he, rising and clasping her to his heart, " of the many miles by which I shall be separated, this time to-morrow, from her I love so dearly; and the dread, which I cannot dispel, of that change which may be effected in your present pure feelings by dissipation and worldly influences. Many an innocent, chaste girl like yourself, hitherto cheerful, happy, and contented in her rural home, has, after a season in town, returned thither an altered being — peevish, fretful, unhappy, and discontented — longing again for the excitement of those scenes which have rendered her dis- satisfied and miserable in domestic life." "You think, then, William, that I have no self-control or strength of mind, but like a child shall be led astray and taken captive by the glittering allurements of the fashionable world?" " Heaven grant, dear girl, that you may ever continue, as now, a child in simplicity of heart and thought ; yet how few of the greatest and best of mankind, even the most favoured children of the Almighty, have been able to resist temptation in their hour of trial, or whose minds have not been affected by those follies and vices to which all human nature is so prone to yield 1 Lady Malcolm is, I fear, a votary of fashion ; and when once engaged in that vortex of dissipation, of balls, routs, plays, operas, concerts, dinner-parties, &c. &c., your mind having become enervated or overstrained by unnatural excitement, you will find yourself imperceptibly gliding down that curi'ent which has carried thousands to destruction. Flattery also, which none can wholly withstand, will lend her aid to beguile and reconcile you to this new mode of life. Can you wonder, then, dear girl, that my thouglits are troubled at the risk you will incur when entering so young and inexperienced on these treacherous and deceptive scenes? Were you to be changed from that dear, artless, unaffected girl I now hold in my arms, into a flirting, heartless woman of fashion, the now bright dawning of my earthly happiness would sink into endless night. That dear form, too, although so beautiful, so enchanting to my enrap- tured vision, is but as the fair casket, containing a far more precious jewel within — a chaste and unsullied heart, which I TilE LAST EYjSXINQ AT THE PEIORY. 257 value beyond all price. Oh, Blanche ! that you may be reotored to me as you now leave me, is my constant, anxious prayer." " Dear, clear William, do not distress yourself by these fore- bodings of evil, or doubt my constant, unfailing love, which will strengthen and supj)ort me in every trial ; and knowing how much your happiness depends on me, and is now confided to my keeping, rest assured that consideration alone would b© sufficient, had I no stronger motives, to prevent that change you dread ; but unless you are with me also, my fashionable career in London will be short indeed ; and when you leave town, Aunt Gordon and myself have resolved to return to the Priory." Malcolm entering the room at this moment, exclaimed — *' Ah, Beauchamp, at the old game again, lectiu'ing Blanche, I conclude, from those tearful eyes. Beally, my dear fellow, there is sometimes too much of a good thing ; but all your advice will be thrown away after a month in town, by which time you will find this country lassie converted into an aerified town belle, receiving the homage of numerous slaves, attracted by her beauty and grace, with the dignity of a princess. You will get lectured yourself then, my boy, and ordered to the right-about in double quick time." " Take care Constance does not serve you the same trick, Malcolm." " Egad ! " I should not be marvellously astonished if she did, Beauchamp, and therefore I shall keep a pretty sharp look out ; but she shall have her run of gaiety — go everywhere, and see everything, for it is far better to have it over before we are married, and if so disposed to tm-n restive, the blow won't fall so heavily upon me now as it would later, when we are coupled together." " You can do as you please with Constance, who is strong and able to take care of herself; but I must entreat, Malcolm, Blanche may not be dragged here, there, and everywhere, for her constitution mil not endure much dissipation." " Well, Beauchamp, then come up and take care yourself of the dear, precious little soul. Why, Blanche, he seems to think you are made of barley-sugar. What a life you will lead when married to such a fussy, prosy, particular old fellow. Take my ad^dce, child, and marry some dashing, high-spirited young man about town." "Who would try to kill me with dissipation, Charles, that he might spend my fortune on himseK — that would be a cannie ^58 THE MASTER OP THE H0UND3. thiDg for a Scotcliwoman to do. "No, no, Cliarlie dear; I prefer being my old man's darling, to any gay young man's sl*ve." "Quite right, my prudent little cousin ; and a precious darling you Avill be, no doubt, in his opinion. But now let us have dinner," ringing the bell ; " Aunty and Con are uncommonly late, and I can wait no longer." The dinner-hour passed heavily away, Lord Malcolm making ineffectual efforts to enliven the party ; but nothing could rouse Beauchamp from liis abstraction, and his sorrowful looks, fixed alternately on Blanche and Mrs. Gordon, infected them all. " Confound your sour-crout visage," exclaimed Malcolm. "Why, Beauchamp, you are like a wet blanket in a frosty night— enough to congeal one's blood. Bouse, rouse yourself, my dear fellow ; and here, Blanche, fill his glass, to our next merry meeting at the Priory." " May that meeting find us all unchanged in heai-ts and feelings," exclaimed Beauchamp, impressively, as he placed his empty glass on the table. " And Will BeaiTchamp," added Malcolm, gaily, " in a more lively humour. And now, aunty, with your leave, I will ring for another bottle of wine; or, by Jove! we shall find liim suspended by the neck from the old chestnut tree on the lawn to-morrow morning — or stay — his razors — egad ! aunt, you and Blanche had better take them away and hide them — no saying what he may do, now this blue fit is upon him." " Do leave William alone, Charles," replied Mrs. Gordon. " I dare not, aunty dear, until he has swallowed a bottle of wine, which may keep him from committing felo-de-se until to-morrow evening, when Miss Honoria Winterbottom will perhaps enliven him with her innocent prattle and sweet musical strains, or her ma' and the old squire may, all four, get comfortably merry together." " Charles," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, rising to leave the room, "you are incorrigible — but remember, we must retii'e early to-night." We will draw a veil over the parting scene between Blanche and Beauchamp the following morning, after which he handed her to the carriage in silence, not daring to trust his voice in a last farewell ; and Blanche sunk back on the cushion to conceal her fast falling tears. When shaking hands with ^Irs. Gordon, Constance, and Malcolm, tlie firm grasping of their hands in hia provea, more tlian words could tell, what his feelings were, although utterance failed liim from emotion, which, unable longer to control, he turned quickly away, and rushed towards the stables for his horse. "There goes," said Malcolm, "a man whose deep feelings are almost, if not quite, a misery to himself; and I fear Will Beauchamp is more to be pitied than envied in the possession of too sensitive a heart." " Oh, no, Charles," replied Mrs. Gordon ; " it is that very profound depth and delicacy of feeling which has so endeared him to me since a boy, and made me love him as my own son." " Ah, aunty dear, he is, I know, a paragon of perfection in your eyes ; but notAvithstanding his heart is in the right place, he is confoundedly jealous and haughty too ; and I suspect w« shall have a scene or two with him in town, if my sweet coust.- there attracts many admirers." "I do not wish to have any more admirers, Charles,'* replied Blanche ; " and will take care never again to give William the slightest cause for uneasiness on that account." " A noble resolution, my unsophisticated little pet ; but, as a cat may look at a king, I conclude men may look at and admire Blanche Douglas without being thought very imperti- nent. But wait a little, my love ; and, when you have been a month in London, you will tliink very differently on these matters." " I hope never, Charles," was the reply, which being echoed by Mrs. Gordon and Constance, prevented Lord Malcolm from venturing any further remarks on the supposed fickleness of the fair sex. CHAPTER XXX. The hurry ana excitement of travelling with four-post horses, and the ever- varying objects on the road, roused and diverted Blanche Douglas from giving unchecked indulgence to more gloomy thoughts ; Mrs. Gordon using her best endeavours also to di'aw her attention to other things. But still, the unbidden tear would glisten in her eye, as she dwelt on her parting with him whom she loved far beyond every human being ; and save when losing the kind instructress of her early years, this pang Q 2 260 fHE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. of separation from Beauclianip (altliough. believing it to be of &0 sliort a duration) was the most bitter she had ever experienced. To her, Beauchamp had stood successively in the place of brother, friend, and lover. She had regarded him first with the afiection of a sister ; then esteemed him as a friend, and now loved him, with all the intensity of which her gentle, confiding nature was susceptible, as her affianced husband. The shadows of evening were lengthening, as the heavy double-bodied carriage, containing the late inmates of the Priory, rattled through the streets of London, and drew up in Grosveuor Square. The door of Lady Malcolm's mansion was immediately thrown oj)en by the expectant porter, and Malcolm leading the way to the drawing-room, was soon folded in his mother's arms, INIrs. Gordon, Blanche, and Constance following closely upon his footsteps, and each greeted in turn by a warm embrace and most cordial reception. " Eeally, Margaret," exclaimed Lady Malcolm, " I could scarcely have recognised Blanche again, she is become such a tall, handsome, stately girl ; well, I declare, my love," taking her hand in hers, and earnestly scanning her features, "you will create quite a sensation in the beau monde^ and I shall feel justly proud of my protegee. But now, my dears, you must be greatly fatigued after your long journey, and I will show you your rooms. Dinner will be ready at eight o'clock precisely, and as we are quite enfamille this evening, you need not bestow much time on your toilet." Lady Malcolm being Mrs. Gordon's eldest sister, resembled her very much in personal appearance, and disposition also, although taller, and more fashionable in manners, from her constantly mixing in the first circles in London society ; and it must be confessed, she was at heart rather a woman of the world, deriving her chief enjoyment from its gaieties. Although much pleased ^vith her niece's first appearance, she was in raptures when Blanche entered the drawing-room the second time, dressed for dinner. "Why, my dear girl," she exclaimed, "you are really quite enchanting when divested of your travelling dress j I had no idea of that beautiful figure and graceful demeanour j you will be the belle of the season j and with your fortune and position, dukes and earls will be paying homage at your feet." "Indeed, I hope not, Aunt Malcolm," replied Blanche, blushing deeply. " And why not, my dear ? it is nothing more than your due, THE AERIVAL m LONDON. 261 and what I fally expect ; so get rid of your country diffidence and blushes as soon as you possibly can, which here would only pass for gauclierie or niauvaise horded Constance in her turn elicited some very flattering en- comiums from Lady Malcolm, exceedingly gratifying to her son, who replied, " Well, my dear mother, I think we may show our two girls against any two in London j but they must not be spoilt by too many compliments or too much indulgence, as we keep them pretty strict in the country — don't we. Aunt Gordon 1 — for fear of their running away." " Oh, Charles," interposed Lady Malcolm, " you must give me a full account of all those dreadful proceedings ^vitll that mauvais sujet, Lord Yancourt. The maddest scheme I ever heard of; but he has always been a wild, reckless man, and living almost by his wits the last three or four seasons." " It was a well-planned scheme, though, my dear mother, and Blanche had a narrow escape from being whipped off to tho land of cakes ; for had Will Beauchamp arrived ten minutes later, that villain would have had her safe enough in his travel- ling: carriao;e." "Well, Charles, you must tell me all particulars after dinner ; and how are my friends, the old and young squires of Bampton, and Sir Lionel ? " " Well and hearty ; and you may expect the honour of a visit from Will next week, who is coming up to town to look after us all, and prevent these girls being ruined by too much dissipation ; as he does not consider a couj^le of aunts and one man cousin sufficient to keep them within proper bounds." " I shall be delighted, Charles, to see my young friend again, as you know he has ever been a pet of mine." " Yes, my dear mother, and since he has grown up a tall, good-looking young man, he has now become a pet of young ac well as old ladies." "Indeed, Charles, that is not at all an unlikely thing to occur ; but who are the young ladies you allude to ? " " Oh ! " replied Charles, carelessly, " there is a brewei"^s daughter, with a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, more or less, with her pa' and ma' hard at him ; and one or two other demoiselles " — casting a significant look at Blanche, who blushed and trembled with apprehen?ion — " I suspect, have set their caps at him ; but two to one on Miss Winterbottom are the current odds at present," 263 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. <r we should »ot attempt to make terms with our opponents, before we are forced into a court of law, where all ix>ay be ^ost." " We ought, first, Mr. Harcourt, to have the opinion of the best counsel, before making any overtures, and be guided by their advice. Lord Malcolm *« gone to con?Yilt with his solicitor on these matters at my rpque;«t, and I hope the case is not quite so desperate as you imagine." " Well, my dear madam," said Mr. Harcourt, risings " I shall be glad to know as soon as possible how you decide to act, lUthough I anticipate almost certain defeat." CHAPTER XLII. Blanche, who had been present during the latter part of this controversy, after Mr. Harcourt had left, retired to her own room, and locking her door, sat down and wrote a few hurried lines to Beauchamp, acquainting him with what had occurred, and releasing him from his engagement to herself She had just sealed the letter, and given it to her maid to post herself, when Mrs. Gordon entered her room, telling her that ISIalcolm had returned with a very different story to Mr. Harcourt' s, and "\vished to see her in the drawing-room ; " so dry your tears ; for, my dearest child, depend upon it, Mr. Har- court has only been frightening us to serve his own purpose, in dread of having to refund all the money he has received." Malcolm having repeated the conversation he had with Macvittie, and his opinion of the marriage certificate, turning to Blanche, said, " Now, my dear girl, I think Beauchamp will be offended if I do not write him all particulars, as in your present position he ought to be consulted as to our future pro- ceedings." " Our position is now so completely altered, dear Charlea," replied Blanche, bursting into tears, "'that I have akeady Blanche's decision. 345 released him from his engagement, which I felt bound in honour to do." " And when, my dear girl, did you write to tell Will Beau- champ that Blanche Douglas was no longer worthy of his love, because a rascally impostor had claimed her property ? " " This afternoon, Charles." " Is the letter posted, my sensitive little cousin ? " . " Yes, I gave it to Alice, to post herself" " Well, my love, then you have saved me the trouble of using pen and ink ; for if Beauchamp, on the receipt of that little billet doux, does not post up to London as fast as four horses can convey him, without stopping day or night, then, my ^ove, I know nothing of his true character. I only trust he may not be thrown over by too much haste, and meet with some accident. Oh, Blanche, Blanche, how could you think so meanly of your noble-minded lover ? Would you have released him, had he been so unfortunate as to lose all his propei-ty ? Could you have ceased to love him 1 " " Oh no, Charles — never ; but as Lord Beauchamp, he will be expected to marry his equal in rank ; at least, not a portion- less girl Hke myself." " Stuff and nonsense, Blanche ! you are not a portionless girl, and never shall be, if I can prevent it, even if that old croaker Harcourt's prognostications are verified ; as Constance and myself have resolved to place a hundred thousand pounds at your disposal, over which no person shall have any control but yourself" " Indeed, Charles, although most grateful for your and dear Constance's kindness, it would degrade me in my own eyes to be the recipient of another's bounty, on which I have no claim." "My dear girl, do not talk so inconsistently. Constance had no greater claim by affinity on the old peer than you have on me — not so great, and yet we do not feel degraded by accept- ing his legacy ; what is the use of relations, if they do not love and help each other ? They are bound to do so, my dear girl, by the law of God and the law of Nature ; and you can no more turn me and Constance from our purpose, than you can turn this house upside down with those little hands. I have teased and tormented you, dear Blanche, in prosperity, and it is now my duty to comfort and support you in adversity ; and if you should lose your patrimony, of which, in my opinion, there ia not the least chance, Beauchamp shall not receive in my 346 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. cousin a portionless bride ; not another word of renicustrance, Blanche — (as she was again beginning to decline his offer) — if you love me ; you know my obstinate disposition, and in this I will have my way." " But, my dear Charles " " But, my dear Blanche, I must now wish you good morning, and mind you don't fret any more;" and Malcolm, taking up his hat, left the room. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Mrs. Gordon, and entreaties of Constance, Blanche could not be prevailed on to accept her cousin's generous offer ; and her aunt, forbearing to harass her further on this painful subject, concluded the con- versation by expressing her hopes that she might not be placed under the necessity of offending her cousin by a refusal. " The contingency will not, I trust, ever arrive, my dear girl ; and, in the meantime, pray raise no further objection to Charles." There was another point upon which she was equally resolved to break off her engagement with Beauchamp, and she implored her aunt to spare her the agony of an interview with him, should he ariive in London. Four days had now passed ; Blanche, from distress of mind and excessive agitation, became restless and nervous to an alarming degree ; she could scarcely be pre- vailed upon to touch anything either at breakfast or dinner ; she would see no one but her immediate relations, and sat for hours together in her own room, in dread of Beauchamp's arrival. " Oh, dear aunt," she exclaimed on the fourth evening, " why does he not come ? what can have detained him 1 Oh, how I wish your sad interview with him was over ; I shall feel more resigned when that is past ; I shall indeed, aunt." " I fear not, my poor child, and dread your sinking into hopeless despondency j and he, poor fellow ! what misery awaits him!" At this moment, a loud knock at the door reverberated through the hall, on which Blanche sprang from her chair . " Oh, aunt, he is come, that is his knock j pray, be quick, and return to me as soon as possible." Mrs. Gordon descended to the drawing-room, where, pale and haggard, stood Beauchamp, talking to Lady Malcolm and his sister. At her entrance he turned quicldy round, and grasping her hand, inquired hastily, " Where is Blanche ? " " In her own room, dear William, and I am sorry to say, s« very unwell that I fear you cannot see her." *' Then, if not now, I can see her to-morrow morning 1 " THE LOVERS JIEET. 347 Mrs. Gordon was silent. " Does she refuse to see me at all, then ? " he exclaimed, in amazement. " It is even so, dear William ; but come with me into the other room, and I will tell you what I am commissioned to say." In vain Mrs. Gordon urged all her niece's arguments to avoid an interview which would be so painful to both ; in vain she spoke of their altered position, and Blanche's resolution to break off her engagement, unless she was restored to her rightful inheritance. Beauchamp paced up and down the room, iii a state of mind bordering on distraction, for some few moments, then confront- ing Mrs. Gordon, said, in a firm tone, " Cease, cease, dear aunt, this mockery of my woe, and go tell Blanche Douglas from me, that I will not quit this roof until I have a refuspl from her own lips, see her, I must and will, this very night." Mrs. Gordon still attempting to dissuade him from his purpose, he frantically exclaimed : " Go, dear aunt, this moment, and tell Blanche, if she will not see me now, we shall never in this world meet again." " Well, then, if I bring her down with me, promise to be more calm, for she is in a dreadfully nervous state." " Yes, aunt, I will be calm ; but, mind, see her I will once more." Mrs. Gordon having explained the state in which she had left her lover, and telling Blanche what she dreaded from his words, prevailed on her to see him, and she entered the room in wliich he was still pacing to and fro, leaning on her aunt's arm, tranibling and almost fainting from agitation and exhaustion. Beauchamp advanced to meet her, and seeing her almost sinking, caught her in his arms, saying, " Come, dear Blanche, come to my heart once more, even if it be for the last time ; " and she fell nearly senseless on his breast, sobbing convulsively. " Hush, hush ! my own dear girl," he murmured ; " still that beating heart — you are mine once more — mine now and for ever !" " Oh, no, dear William, it cannot be — pray release me." " No, Blanche, never until you promise to become my wife, or you will never see me alive again ; my arm shall hold you till you tear it from your side ; so now, my love, let me lead you to the sofa, and listen calmly to what I have to say. Do you see that ring on my finger, dear girl, placed there by your own hand, with the vow that by that symbol you would be mine for ever." 34:8 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. "Yes, William, I remember it well — the past ig a happy dream, the present a sad reality. I never thought then how different our positions might become ; but still my vow remains unaltered — I will never marry another." " To that I cannot, will not hold you, dear Blanche ; take the ring from my finger, and take with it all my hopes of earthly happiness." " That I cannot do, William." " Then listen to reason, Blanche ; at least, you ought to be consistent. When you placed that ring upon my finger, you were a rich heiress, and I (by Mrs. Harcourt's account) a poor, penniless fox-hunter ; you would have married me then, coulcJ ^, have obtained your guardian's consent." " Yes, "William, indeed I would." " And should I have been degraded in your eyea by aoifcpt- ing your hand, although then represented to you without fortune ? " " Oh, no, dearest William ; nothing could ever degrade you in my sight." " Our positions now, dear girl, are apparently, but not really reversed, and Blanche Douglas is too proud to make that con- cession she expected of William Beauchamp. Yes, that is the fact. I might and must have been humbled then in your opinion, and now your false sense of honour would trample all my feelings and fondly cherished expectations in the dust." " No, William ; the time may anive when I will no longer oppose your wishes ; but should all be lost to me, I shall ever love and esteem you as my o^vn dear brother." " Will nothing change your purpose, Blanche ? Will no feeling of compassion or compunction induce you to avert my doom 1 " " Do not urge me further, dear William, in pity to my agony of mind and dreadful sufferings these last few days. Oh, spare me the misery of listening to your reproaches, which, believe me, I do not deserve — we may meet again as before — as brother and sister." " Never, Blanche, that time is past. Now hear the sentence you have pronounced ; if we part now, we never meet again, for I will leave my native land, and return to it no more, unless this night you promise to be mine." " Oh, William, recall that rash vow ; think of your poor father, who would be broken-hearted if you left him ; think of your sister, and dear Aunt Gordon." A SCENfi. S49 " It is too late, Blanche ; I have sworn to do so, and "will keep my oath. You have forced me in despair to utter these hasty words j your false pride wUl entail this misery on us all" It was now Blanche's turn to beg and implore her lover to alter his determination ; but her voice fell unheeded on his ear, and leaning his head on his hand, he seemed lost in thought, and deaf to her entreaties. ' Oh, William," she exclaimed, " why will you not speak to me 1 only say you will not go." " Go, yes, I know I must go," he muttered, without regard- ing her j " Blanche Douglas sends me forth an outcast from my home, to die among strangers, scorned, despised, and neglected by her, for whom I would have sacrificed a hundred lives, had I them to give. Let me go," he cried, springing wildly from his seat, as she attempted to hold his hand. " I am crazed, mad- dened ! " and seizing his hat, he was rushing from the room like one distracted, when Blanche threw herself in his way, and casting her arras round his neck, cried, " In mercy, speak to me, my own dear William , I am yours, now and for ever. Oh, say you will not leave me ! " At that appeal his pent-up feelings gave way, and as his tears fell on her neck, he murmured, " Oh, Blanche, Blanche, you have nearly killed me ! " " Forgive me, dear William, this once," she whispered, " I will never cause you another moment's pain ; " and feeling him totter under her weight, she led him to the sofa, where he fell back exhausted on the cushion. She was kneeling by his side, fruitlessly endeavouring to rouse him from his stupor, when Mrs. Gordon entered. "Oh, aunt, aunt ! I have killed him by my folly — what can I do ? " " Hun, my love, for a glass of wine ; he has only fainted from over-exhaustion, poor fellow, having travelled day and night since your letter reached him." Blanche rushed down-stairs into the dining-room, and seiz- ing a decanter and glass from table, flew like a fairy to her lover's rescue, who had begun to recover consciousness from Mrs. Gordon's application of salts. Blanche, trembling and shaking, poured half the bottle over her aunt's dress, then too intent on Beauchamp to notice it ; and having succeeded in making him swallow half a glass of wine, she continued bathing his forehead with eau de Cologne, until he revived and tried to eit up. 3.50 THE MASTER OF THE HOtTNDS. "Ko, my dear boy, rest as you are awhile longer, and dnnk some more wine — and there, I declare, that naughty child has spoilt my new dress — well, Blanche, to punish you, you must take my ^^lace now by "William's side ; but mind he does not move until I return." Blanche silently placed her hand in his, and Beauchamp, knowing what that implied, asked — "Is that mine, Blanche, without conditions of any kind?" " Yes, my own dear William — your very own." " Then give me a kiss to confii'm your promise." Leaning over him, she said — " Will you forgive me ? " His reply was given by another warm embrace, when Mrs. Cordon apjjcarcd. " Ah, William ! you do not want me now, I suppose j but I will have no more scenes to-night — and here is Charles come to see you." " Ah ! my dear fellow," exclaimed Malcolm, taking his hand ; " so Blanche has thrown you over at last — a regular back -fall. I thought how it would end with her ridiculous notions. Slie v>"on't be satisfied, I suppose, till she has killed you outright ; but how do you feel now, old fellow % " " Much better, Malcolm, thank you, since taking that glass of wine." "Then just take another, Beauchamp — or stay — a glass of brandy-and-water will do you more service, with a couple of biscuits. You are overdone — that's the fact ; and, I dare say, have stopped neither to eafc nor drink on the road since you left the Castle." " That is true enough, Malcolm." " Ay, ay, there it is — starving, fretting and travelling, with- out rest for two days, are quite enough to derange any fellow's digestive organs ; and this backhanded blow from Blanclie knocked you clean off your legs, old fellow. Well, my dear, obstinate, little cousin, it is lucky he is no worse ; but don't tr^ this game again, or you will have him in an a^^oplectic fit, my love, and that will be beyond our remedies. It's -all your doing, Blanche — worrying, vexing, and tormenting him and yourself about these confounded rascals : why, what on earth is the difference between you — even if you had lost your money 1 (which you won't — a shilling of it.) When you were rich, you would have married Him ; and now he is rich, he would marry you. If Con had acted in this foolhardy manner, I should have *^YCKJ HAVE BEEN WANBEEING.*' 351 fcliouglit her cracked ; and I verily believe all this confounded business has turned your head, my dear girl j and that you will be in a raging fever to-morrow morning." " Oh, Charles, pray spare me — I Avill never vex him again." ''That's right, my dear. Keep to that resolution, and al^ will be well ; and now, give Beauchamp his glass of brandy-and- water, and make him eat a biscuit also." CHAPTER XLIII. Malcolm's anticipations were realised about his cousin, who was in a burning fever all night ; and towards morning, be- coming delirious, the family physician was sent for by Mrs. Gordon, who, with Constance, remained by her bedside, listen- ing with tearful eyes to her ravings about her lover. Mrs. Gordon explained to the doctor what had occurred, as far as she deemed necessary, who prescribed the usual remedies in such cases, desiring she might be kept perfectly quiet, and no other person admitted to her room. " But stay, my dear madam," as he was leaving ; " if she should particularly desire to see Lord Beauchamp on regaining consciousness, let him be sent for directly, as his presence will go far to allay this feverish excitement." After taking the medicine, Blanche fell into a fitful doze for two hours, from which, awaking with a sudden start, she exclaimed — " Oh, aunt, he is gone — gone for ever ; I sent him away never to return." " No, my love, he is not gone ; you have been wandering , he is still here, in this house." " Oh, no, dear aunt ; do not deceive me. I know he is gone." " Then, my dear, promise to be calm and not speak, and you shall see him directly. Constance, will you call your brother 1 " In a few seconds, Beauchamp was kneeling by her bedside, with her hand in his. " You will not leave me, dear William," she murmured, " as you said you would ; oh, promise me not to go." " On my word of honour, my own dearest girl, I will ne\ e^ leave you more ; but you must not talk now ; so try to com* 35^ THfi MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. pose yourself, and remember I am always "within call, if you want me." " Oil, don't go, "William," she still whispered. " Keep my hand in yours, then, dear chUd, and I will sit your bedside, if you will try to sleep ; but you must not eak, or I will leave you." Assured now of his presence, which calmed and soothed her troubled brain, she soon relapsed into a sound and refreshing sleep. Beauchamp sat gazing on her flushed face, and felt her burning hand and throbbing pulse. The tears chased each otlter down his cheek ; and sinking noiselessly on his knees, he prayed long and fervently that God would be pleased to spare her life. *' Hear me, Father of all mercies — hear me ! " he murmured j " and, of thy infinite goodness, grant that this dear child may be restored to me again ! " when, overcome by emotion, and the excitement and fatigue of the last two days, with his face resting on the bed, he fell fast asleep by her he loved so dearly, his hand still firmly locked in hers. Mrs. Gordon, who had been watching Beauchamp's actions, cautiously approached, and hearing his heavy breathing, whis- pered Constance, " Dear William has fallen asleep in that kneeling posture." " Oh, let him alone, aunt ; he is quite worn out, poor fellow, in mind and body." For three hours, neither Blanche nor Beauchamp stirred, when Alice softly entered the room, whispering the doctor was coming up-stairs. Mrs. Gordon met him at the door, and placing her finger on her lips, in token of silence, pointed to the bed. The doctor crept on tiptoe to listen to his patient's breathing, and as noiselessly retreating, beckoned Mrs. Gordon out of the room. " That will do, my dear madam, better than all my medicine ; pray don't disturb them." Blanche was the first to awake, with all her faculties restored, and great was her astonishment on finding her lover's head resting by her side, in perfect unconsciousness. " Oh, aunt," was her sudden exclamation ; " where am I ? " " In your own bed, my dear ; but as you would have William's hand in yours, he has fallen asleep too, and, thank goodness, you have both slept soundly for these last three hours : so now, my love, if you will let him go, it is time you had a cup of tea, and he will not be sorry to have some breakfast." From this time her fever began to abate, and in three day^s Blanche made her appearance once more in the drawing-room^ SLAKCSE gives HEK CONSEN*t. 3:3 and Beauchamp, thinking the present a most favourable oppor tunity for making his proposals for her hand, obtained her con- sent to apply to her guardian for his formal approval of their marriage. "Out of evil good often proceeds, dear Blanche,'* he observed, " and Mr. Harcourt may be induced now to give his consent, which, under different circumstances, he would hav<3 refused ; for I believe he is so worried by the thought of being called on to refund the rents, that he will be too happy to shift any further responsibility off his own shoulders on to mine, or any man of substance you might select j and as you have pro- mised never to turn restive again, you will, I trust, my own dearest Blanche, no longer hesitate to invest me with the title to defend your rights and protect you from all further annoy- ance. In me you shall ever find a true friend and brother, as well as husband, and all my energies shall be directed to pro- mote your happiness." " That, dear William, I can never doubt ; and I quite agree with you that the present is a propitious time to obtain Mr. Harcourt' s consent." "We must now relate what was passing elsewhere. The news of Miss Douglas's loss of fortune sped with the rapidity ill ne^w-- is ever wont to travel with. Lord Henry Bayntun having ascer- tained the fact from Mr. Mangle, whom he had been consulting on some little affair of his own, and meeting Lord Ayrshire at his club, all the particulars were communicated to the marquis, at the conclusion of which recital Lord Henry observed, " A deuced lucky escape for you, Ayrshire.*' *' What do you allude to, Bayntun 1 " " Oh, Danby thinks the heiress threw you over." *' Danby had better attend to his own affairs, Bayntun, and not meddle with other men's concerns ; because lie has been overturned, as you call it, I suppose he wishes to make it appear that I have had no better success ; but who is his authority 1 That I shall expect to know, not choosing my name to go the round of all the clubs as a rejected man." " Tut ! tut ! Ayrshire^ don't flare up in that fashion. Danby r.ierely expressed that as liis opinion ; for he said he had tried to ascertain whether you had proposed or not, from Malcolm, who refused to give him any information ; so it is merely con- jecture on his part.'* " Yery likely, Bayntun ; but I shall be obliged by your telling him, with my compliments, to keep his conjectures to himself for the future. You know, when I set my mind on w S54 'THE MASTER OP THE HOtTNDS, buying a liorse, price will not stop me ; and if I should bid for a woman, the chances are in my favour, I think; eh, Bayntun?'* " OH, of course, we all know that your rent-roll is as long as this room ; but you would not marry a girl without any fortune at all, would you 1 " ^' That would make no difference to me, if, in all other re- sj)ects, she comes up to my standard." " Oh, very well ; then I conclude the heiress may be had now for asking, as Mangle tells me old Harcourt is in a proper funk about refunding all the money he has received." This last piece of information suggested an idea to the mar- quis, who, taking his hat, wished Lord Henry good morning. AVith all his refinement of manners and agreeable conversation. Lord Ayi'shire possessed a proud, haughty temper, and he could ill endure being foiled in anything he undertook, or being out- done or outbid by any other man. If he had set his mind on purchasing a horse at Tattersall's, every one was aware, who knew him, that it was mere waste of time to bid against him. Yet he was, from this peculiarity of temper, most wofully imposed upon, and horses were run up to three or four times their value by some of the knowing ones, just, as Lord Henry said, " to make him open his mouth." There was a manifest impatience in his mode of advancing against any other competitor, which at once betrayed this imj^atience of temper, as if no other man had a right to make an offer for the animal on which the Marquis of Ayrshire had once set his affections. One day, a remarkably fine, well-bred brougham horse was brought to the hammer, which immediately catching his lordship's eje, he inquired his age. "Six years old, my lord," replied Mr. Tattersall j "high stepper — nearly thorough-bred ; what shall I say, my lord 1 a hundred ? thank you, my lord ; trot him down ; take care, gentlemen. One hundred guineas are offered for that splendid swiimal — and ten — thank you, sir ; a hundred and ten guineas. " Make it fefty* at once, gentlemen." " Thank you, my lord — one hundred and fefty guineas are bid j will any gentleman advance on that sum 1 " " Twenty," from a voice near. " One hundred and seventy are offered — going at that figure." " Two hundred," exclaimed Lord Ayi'shire. " Thank you, my lord. Two hundred guineas are bid— < • The old Mr. Tattersall always pronounced it 80« Lord Ayrshire at tattersall's. S55 going at that j^i'ice — going, gentlemen, for two hundred guineas — will nobody advance? — for the last time, going at two hundred guineas " — a pause for a moment, and the ham- mer fell. " Well, Ayrshire," exclaimed Lord Henry, " you would have that dark bay, notwithstanding my hints not to buy him." " I call him a light bay horse, Bayntun." "Yery likely — doctors differ j but I'll bet a pony, notwith- standing, he is a dark bay." " IIow so, Bayntun? you want your spectacles this morning." " More likely you want yours, Ayrshire, for the horse you have just bought is as blind as a bat, or will be so very shortly." " I don't care if he is," replied the marquis, impatiently ; "having resolved that fellow who bid against me should not have him, for his insolence in running him up." " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed Lord Henry ; " done, my lord, done brown, as well as bay ; that was only a puffer." This little anecdote will suffice to show the animus by which the marquis was actuated, when any one or anything ran counter to his determination. We must now follow him from the club-house, after his conversation with Lord Henry Bayntun, and reveal what was passing in his mind, as he took his way direct to Upper Brook Street. His thoughts were bent on re- deeming the prestige he had lost by being set down as a rejected man, and knowing Mi\ Harcourt's weak points, he resolved to re-open the negotiation about his ward. " It is not the ques- tion whether her affections are wholly mine or not," he mvA- tered, as he rode along ; " that with me is now quite a secon- dary consideration ; but having committed the error of pro- posing, and rendered myself conspicuous by paying her more attention than I ever did any other woman, she shall be mine at any cost, if possible, and when once my wife, she may repent her waywardness in declining my first overtures." As di-owning men -svill catch at straws, so Mr. Harcourt caught at Lord Ayi'shire's proposition, to bear the brunt of the trial, and make good any deficiencies that could be legally claimed, on the condition that he obtained the consent of his ward to become Lord Ayrshire's wife. "I do not believe," replied that worthy gentleman, " your lordship will incur much risk, as counsel's opinion is decidedly in our favour, and posses- sion is nine points of the law. But if you are really serious m the matter, and choose to take the lady %vith her liabilities and lights, as they stand, I will use all my influence with Lady 356 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. Malcolm and Mrs. Gordon to effect your object, although 1 fear there may be still one obstacle in our way." " And what is that, my dear sir 1 " "The same that I mentioned before — some prior attachment." "That I do not think of much moment just now, as I believe few men, if any, would marry Miss Douglas under her present circumstances. Why, my dear sir, it would ruin any man of moderate fortune, if her cause were lost. But to save my credit in the fashionable world, I will take my chance, as I never can endure to be beaten, Mr. Harcourt ; and cost what it may, I am resolved to marry your ward, now that I have gone to far." "Very well, my lord, then I think a little memorandum may be as well drawn up between us, just a few lines." "Oh, certainly, my dear sir; pray write down what you think necessary, and I will sign the paper." Mr. Harcourt, being what is called a shrewd man of busi- ness (which means, in plain language, one who will take advan- tage of any weakness or blindness in his neighbour to drive a good bargain for himself), took care so to word this little docu- ment, that all responsibilities, past, present, and to come, incurred by himself, and the refunding of all rents received since her father's death, on his ward's account, should devolve on Lord j^.yi'shire's shoulders. The marquis having hastily scanned the contents, signed the paper ; and rising, said, " Now, my dear sir, I rely entirely on your honour to keep tliis arrangement a profound secret." " Of course, my lord ; on my own account only I should never mention it, or our plans would at once be defeated." Mr. Harcourt had just carefully deposited this little docu- /nent in his writing-desk, when the servant entered with Lord Beauchamp's card, saying his lordship wished to see him a few minutes alone. "Show Lord Beauchamp into my private room," was the reply; and in a few moments Beauchamp was receiving the warm congratulations of his soi-disant friend, which were esti- mated at their full value. Circumlocution or evasion being equally distasteful to Beauchamp's mind, the purport of liia visit was soon explained, and his intention avowed, of settling the "'J'iiole of Blanche's fortune on herself, as well as a very handsome addition from his own. " In fact, Mr. Harcourt, you must be aware that I am actuated by no mercenary motivea »o«>, in asking for the hand of your ward." BEAUCHAMP OBTAINS HARCOURT's CONSENT. 357 " Oh, quite so, my dear Beauchamp ; but how long is it, may I ask, that you have been so attached to Blanche 1 a long time, I suspect, Beauchamp, eh ? or at least, she has, I think, been to you." "Then, dear sir, there is a greater prospect of our being happy together." "Well, my young friend, I have no objection to yourself; but there are grave objections in your way. This suit, which may deprive her of all her property, and then the responsibilities you would incur as her husband. All these things should be well considered ; and in your present position, your father, no doubt, will expect you to marry a woman of fortune or rank equal to your own." "All these objections, with ten times more, will not alter my determination, provided you will consent to our union," he replied. " As the husband of Miss Douglas, you may be called upon to refund all the rents received, my dear Beauchamp, which would amount to a large sum indeed. Are your funds sufficient, without crippling your income, to meet such a demand 1 This is really a most serious responsibility, and my advice to you, as an old friend, is, to give up all thoughts of marrying under such adverse circumstances." " The rental of property which has already been made over to me by my father, Mr. Harcourt, exceeds twenty-five thousand a year, besides ready money ; and if you require to see the deed, with the rent-roll, it shall be produced for your satisfac- tion ; but on my word, as a gentleman, this is strictly true, and that has nevei- yet been questioned by any man." " Oh, that is quite sufficient, my dear young friend ; and if my ward is really attached to you " " Of which, dear sir, there can be no doubt, since she has accepted and referred me to you." " Then, my dear Beauchamp, I have no further objection to urge, except that in taking her, you must also take all her liabilities upon yourself" " Most willingly, my dear sir, were they twice as great." Mr. Harcourt then suggested he should .sign a little memo- randum to that effect, which was worded in similar terms to that he had produced for Lord Ayrshire, and having called in the butler to witness Beauchamp' s signature to this document, he was about to lead the way to the drawing-room, when Beau- ©]iamp interposed, " You have forgotten to give me your written 358 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. consent, my dear sir, which will ratify the baigain on both sides ; and if you will lend your pen a moment, I will trace a few lines which you can sign." Appearing not to notice Mr. Harcourt's evident annoyance at this request, Beauchamp wrote a few lines, by which, among other things, Mr. Harcourt gave his full, unconditional consent to the marriage of his ward with Lord Beauchamp, and resigned all right and control over her j)erson, goods, and chattels, from that day, in favour of her affianced husband. " Bather stringent conditions, Beauchamj:)," he observed, on reading them. *' Not half so stringent as yours, my dear sir." " Oh ! very well, give me the pen ; I can resign her safely to your care." " Yes, that you certainly may, as we have always regarded each other from childhood as brother and sister ; and now, my dear sir," placing the paper in his pocket, " as I have a pressing enp"agement just now, I will call on Mrs. Harcourt another day." Beauchamp hastened directly to Blanche, who was im- patiently awaiting his return, and catching her in his arms, exclaimed, " Now you are indeed my very own dear Blanche ! I have your guardian's consent, my love, at last, and here it is in writing," producing the paper from his pocket; "there, Blanche, read that precious document, conveying yourself, goods and chattels, over to my sole keeping. Well, child, is not that doing business in Harcourt's own style 1 He did not half Hke the conditions, yet I made him sign them." " But I fear, William, he made you sign something too ? " " Yes, my love, he did, by which I have taken all the re- Bponsibility of this suit, and rejoiced am I to get the control of these matters into my own hands, or he and his lawyer, Borum, \v*ould have sacrificed your rights to their blundering. Now, my dear, darling girl, I am the happiest fellow in existence, and you shall sing me that song this evening ; ' Oh, leave the gay and festive scene ! ' Yes, my love, we will leave this murky atmosphere, and be off to the dear old Priory again." " Oh, when shall we go, dear William 1 I shall be so de- lighted to be in the country once more." "Then you do not wish to attend any more gay balls, oi oven have another night at the opera 1 " " No, no — I am tired to death almost of dissipation." "And won't you miss that gay throng of courtiers and THE LOVERS AHE TAKEN BY SURPEISE. 359 admirers, who declared they could exist only in the sunshine of your smiles ? " " Fulsome flatterers all, dear William ; my love and smiles are for you only, and I never wish to see London again." " Well, then, my love, run oflf to Aunt Gordon, and ask her to prepare for leaving as soon as convenient to herself — the day after to-morrow, if possible." All the party in Grosvenor Square were much amused, ii not edified, with Beauchamp's description of his interview with Mr. HarcoLirt, and his beating about the bush to ascertain whether he had money enough to bear the brunt of the fight now pending ; and Malcolm shook with laughter at the wording of the paper Beauchamp had induced him to sign. "Why, my dear gu'l, old Harcourt, by this document, has assigned and made over to Beauchamp all his right and title in you, as if you were a floating cargo of goods or merchandise. What put it in your head, Beauchamp, to write all this down?" " To make him ashamed of denying his bargain, if he ever felt inclined to do so, and to prevent his again interfering with that dear girl, of whom he has so often tried to make mer- chandise." " Well, thank goodness, we are quit of him at last ; and now, Beauchamp, if we don't mangle that rascally firm of Mangle and Co. it is our own fault." " They shall have it, Malcolm, thick and threefold, and wo will see Macvittie to-morrow." CHAPTEH XLIY. The same evening, as Blanche was singing to Beauchamp, the door of the drawing-room opened, and, without being announced, the old squire, now Earl of Annandale, quietly walked in, taking them all by surprise. Constance sprang forward. " My dear, dear father," she exclaimed, and rushed into his arms. Blanche ceased singing, and rose to meet him, although with some hesitatian, which observing, he said, "Have I still another daughter 1 " "Indeed you have, my dear father," she cried, and was instantly locked in his embrace. "You naughty, undutiful child I " murmured the old man, as he kissed her forehead, 360 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. "how could you treat my dear boy so unkindly, by writing such a letter, which drove him nearly crazy 1 " " Because I thought my loss of fortune might " " What, child ! make him love you less 1 — Oh, Blanche ! what a reflection on both our characters ! — why, that is the very reason we should love you more, if possible, ten times more. But did you not promise once to love and regard me for ever as your own father 1 " " Yes, indeed, and I do respect and love you with all the affection of a daughter." " Then recollect, my dear child, that all your troubles and trials belong to me as well as yourself; we ought to have no divided feelings or interests. But I see, dear girl, by your pallid face, you have punished yourself as much as William. Come, Blanche, give me another kiss, and promise never to be guilty of such folly again." Pressing her to his heart once more, the old squire then turned to Lady Malcolm, whom he shook heartily by the hand, then to Mrs. Gordon, with whom he ex- changed the most cordial greeting. We will now leave this once more united happy family, and follow Lord Ayrshire to his club, where he dined with Lord Henry Bayntun. The evening being sultry, an extra quantity of claret was required, which had the usual effect of inducing less restraint in Lord Ayrshire's conversation, who, after his interview with Mr. Harcourt, considering himself secure of the heiress, began to make more particular inquiries of his friend respecting Mr. Mangle and his client's pretensions to her fortune. " The money is all right enough," replied Lord Henry, " as Mangle tells me the property now lets for ten thousand per annum, and, from his agent's report in Scotland, is certainly worth more." " Well, but who is the man, or where to be found, who has set up this claim 1 " "On that point, Ayi'shire, my most particular friend, Mangle, is not disposed to be very communicative, as I pumped him pretty hard the other day without getting anything out ; in fact, between ourselves, as Mangle is as arrant a scoundrel as ever swung at Newgate, I've an idea this is a bit of speculation of his own devising, and his client a man of straw. Otherwise, why should he refuse to give his address? I have been thinking this over, and tried him again this afternoon, with no better Buccess. This looks deucedly suspicious, and my impression is that this rascal has got some dec*^ scheme in his head, and by LORD AYRSHIRE'S OPINION OF BLANCHE. 3Gl working on old Harcourt's timidity, thinks to frighten him into terms. Evidently he has the thing in his own hands, and this young Donglas is a nonentity — that's my opinion, Ayrshire." "Not unlikely, Bayntun — then what do you think the fellow would take for his chance ? would thirty thousand pounds choke him off 1 " " At once, I should say, or perhaps less money, if he had a proper man to deal with." "Well, Bayntun, as you know how to deal with these sharks, will you undertake to negotiate with them ? " " For whom 1 " inquired Lord Henry, with some surprise. " Myself, Bayntun ; for the fact is, I had an interview with Harcourt this morning, and I have signed an agreement to take all responsibility in this suit off his shoulders, and he has agreed I shall marry his ward." " The deuce you have ! why, that beats some of our little transactions on the turf all to nothing." " Oh, it's all fair, Bayntun, and above-board — a quid pro quo — and you must allow I have, as far as money is concerned, the worst of the bargain." " Egad, I'm not so sure of that, my dear fellow — the odds are greatly in your favour, and if you are obliged to give Mangle thirty thousand, you still clear an immense stake — it is a capital investment." " Well, Bayntun, that may be the case or not ; but although it did enter into my calculation to compromise with, or buy off, this pretender, yet the fact is, that this girl is precisely the person I have been looking out for a long time, to sit at the head of my table. She is well-bred, highly connected, of graceful and dignified deportment, a perfect lady in manners, and has passed through the ordeal of her first season in town without affecta- tion of any kind, although so generally admired, and without exhibiting the least disposition to flirtation. I have watched her narrowly, Bayntun, and never could detect the slightest approach to levity in her conduct since the night of our first acquaintance ; and the manner in which she has so quietly repulsed any too familiar advances from those puppies, who have been so constantly trying to ingratiate themselves into her favour, has excited my strongest admiration. In short, Bayntun, she is one in a thousand, and last, though not least in the opinion of most men, her features and form are perfection." " I cannot gainsay a word you have spoken, Ayrshire, in regard to Miss Douglas j and if you obtain her fortune, or hs^f 362 . THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. of it even, with herself, you may think yourself a deuced lucky fellow." "Well, Bayntun^ belW'-een ourselves — and mind, it must go no further — if you can arrange this little affair with Mangle, at a reasonable rate, say thirty thousand, I will make you a present of a couple of thousands for your trouble." "Agreed, Ayrshire, I will see him to-morrow morning as soon as he reaches his den ; but are you quite sure of the young lady consenting to her guardian's bargain 1 " " Oh, my dear fellow, not the least fear of that. Harcourt was to see her directly, and no doubt, under the influence of her aunts. Lady Malcolm and Mrs. Gordon, who will both urge her to compl}^ with his wishes, I look upon it as a settled thing already ; no girl of common sense or prudence could decline such an ofier." *' Perhaps not ; yet you have heard, I suppose, th9,i; although one man may lead a horse to water, two cannot make him drink ; and this young filly may have a will of her own, a^ well as a love of her own." *'Pooh ! nonsense, Bayntun ; just now no man would come forward as I have done — the risk is too great, and the fancy of marrying for love is become quite out of date." " Not quite, Ayi'shire j however, I will attend to my part of the business early to-morrow, and ineet you here at three o'clock. So now, good night." At ten o'clock the next morning. Lord Henry drove to Lincoln's Inn, and found Mangle at home, with whom he at first entered on some aflfairs of his own, to allay any suspicions about the heiress's property, and was about leaving, w^hen, taking his hat. Lord Henry said, in a careless tone, "Well, Mangle, I forgot to ask how you got on with old Harcourt ; the news is all over town, and the heiress at rather a low figure in the betting world, there being long odds against her getting married this season." " Ah, my lord, you are always thinking about your betting- book, instead of other matters ; but I think Mr. Harcourt is pretty well satisfied by this time that our cause is a good one." " Well, Mangle, I'll have a bet with you — an even five-and- twenty — you don't win the stakes, notwithstanding." " Thank you, my lord, I am not a betting man." " Say five then, JMangle — anything for a bet — shall I enter it in my log 1 " taking out his pocket-book, bayntun's interview with makgle. 363 "Oh, no, my lord, I really never bet at all — not even five shillings. I should lose my practice, were it known I was a betting man." " Stuff and nonsense, Mangle ; but come, if you won't do business in one line, you will, perhaps, in another. I'm in a speculative humour this morning, and want something on hand ; so I'll buy your chance, if you will ofier fair terms, out and out, and set up for the girl myself." " But where, my lord, could you find the money, were I disposed to deal with you 1 " " Oh, my friend Moses in the city, or some other old clothes man j but that's nothing to you, I'll find it somehow, if I can make fair terms — that is, to get paid for my trouble. Egad ! it's not a bad spec." " But the young lady, my lord 1 " *' We are on cajDital terms. Mangle, although I don't know much of Harcourt — that will follow ; now for the price — what's the figure ? " " Well, you know, my lord, it can only be done with my client's consent ; but, without prejudice, say a hundi'ed thou- sand guineas." " A hundred thousand devils. Mangle ! — why, that's half the value of the property ! " " Not anything like it, my lord, with all the arrears." " All chaff about the arrears, my worthy friend ; and then, just look at your chance with Lord Malcolm, who swears he will take the matter out of Harcourt' s hands, throw it into Chancery, and keep it there the next ten years, and carry it, if necessary, to the House of Lords. Your client must be a man of substance to stand this racket.*' " Well, perhaps he is, my lord ; but Lord Malcolm is re- ported not over rich." "He is just on the point of marrying a young lady with two hundred thousand pounds — to my loss, I am sorry to say, having made a bet on the subject — so there's no mistake in that matter." IMr. Mangle looking rather serious at this intelligence, Lord Henry said, " Come, Mangle, I'll take you at the odds laid last night at Brooks's — seven to one on Miss Douglas against the field ; Avhich means Mangle and Co., with their backer." "You don't mean to say, my lord, that wagers are being publicly laid on this suit ? " " I do, though, my unsophisticated friend, and here," show- 364 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. ing the entry in his book, " is my bet with Martingale, who offered it freely round the table — seven to one against Mangle and Co." The lawyer looked aghast at this damnatory opinion of his case, and inquired how it was possible gentlemen on the turf could know anything of matters so entirely out of their pro- vince. "We bet on every event, anything, everything that is dis- cussed at the club," replied Lord Henry; "and we have fellows well paid, besides jockeys and trainers, to give us the information we require. You are in the market now, and the odds are increasing against you every day ; first three, then five, now seven j and to-night, they say, ten to one Avill be ofi'ered on the heiress winning in a canter." " Really, my lord, this is too bad." " You can't help yourself, my worthy friend," replied Lord Henry ; " but now I will make you an offer of thirty thousand pounds for your chance, money down." " Indeed, my lord, we could not accept such a trifling sum." " A fair offer, Mangle, well calculated, taking Chancery suit and all into account, with heavy damages to the losing party." " To-morrow I shall offer only twenty," putting on his hat. " Is it a bargain or not ? can't wait any longer." " I will report your proposal to my client," replied Mr. Mangle, musing, "and you shall know his opinion to-mon'ow evening, say at four o'clock, if you call here." We must now go back to see what has passed in Upper Brook Street, after Beauchamp's departure the preceding day. Mr. Harcourt, on repairing to the drawing-room, was interro- gated by his spouse as to the purport of Lord Ayrshire's and Beauchamp's visit, who, having given a full explanation of his transactions Avith them, said exultingly, " Well, my dear, don't you think I have made a capital bargain, in getting rid of this responsibility on such easy terms ? " " By making a fool of the marquis, Mr. Harcourt." " Oh, no, my dear ; he has made a fool of himself by offering a second time, when I told him he had little chance of success. But it is quite a different affair with Beauchamp ; there the thing is settled off at once, and I am now relieved from a load of care and apprehension." " And the man I disliked above all others recognised as my uiece's accepted husband, Mr. Harcourt; very complimentary^ MRS. HARCOUET IS MOLLIFIED. S65 indeed, and consolatoi-y to my feelings. He could not have married her [for three years, at least, \7ithout your consent ; thatj out of deference to my wishes, you ought to have withheld." "And saddled myself with about fifty thousand pounds in costs and arrears of rent, my dear ; where could I have found the money ? TJmtj it seems has not entered into your calcula- tion. AVould you like to give up your carriage and horses, just to spite Beauchamp % " "No, Mr. Harcourt, certainly nob; but you might insist on her accepting Lord Ayrshire — or force Mrs. Gordon to beal the expenses." " Pooh ! nonsense, my dear ] it is idle talking in that strain ; it cannot be done. Lord Beauchamp has now become a man of consequence in our county, and it is our policy to be on good terms with him and his father ; besides which, he used to be a favourite with you once, as well as myself, and has really done nothing to forfeit our good opinion. I never objected to the man, but his means ; and as your niece will be raised to the rank you have desired so earnestly, it is perfectly absurd, my dear, raising any further objections. You have got what you coveted for your niece — rank and riches, with a magnificent place ; Blanche has got the man she loved, and I have got out of my difficulties ; so now, my dear, I can afford to make you a present of two hundred pounds (which he laid before her), to help to pay your milliner's bill, and purchase any little extras you require, before we leave London." " Well, my love," replied the lady, quite mollified, " I dare say you have acted very wisely in this business, and if you are satisfied, I am content to submit to your decision." Mr. Harcourt had only one more little unpleasantness to encounter, in his interview with the marquis, which was readily disposed of by informing him the next day, when he called, that his ward. Miss Douglas, had confessed her long attachment to Mr., now Lord Beauchamp, and declared her resolution to marry no other. " But surely, Mr. Harcourt, Lord Beauchamp would "• ot think of marrying Miss Douglas under existing circumstances ? '* " Indeed, he does, my lord, and since our interview yester- day, has called here, and taken every responsibility on himself" "And you, Mr. Harcourt, have given your consent to th« marriage ? " "It was useless, my lord, my attempting to refuse it, as S66 THB MASMIR OP THE HOUNDS. Lord Beaucliamp had obtained the consent of her other guar- dian, Mrs. Gordon." " Oh, very well, sir," replied the Marquis, rising with great dignity and indignation ; " then I have the honour to wish you good morning, sir;" and with head erect, he stalked fierecely out of the room, cursing Harcourt in his heart, as he walked down-stairs, for a mean, cowardly driveller. " D n the fellow ! " muttered Lord Ayrshire ; " I saw by his quivering lip he had sold me, and would have laid my cane over his shoulders, but for the expose of the whole affair, and that infernal paper I was fool enough to sign. Yet, confound the fellow, that I must recover at any rate j " and he turned quickly back for that ^mrpose, and again entering the room, said, " I had forgotten, sir, a little document I was foolishly induced by you to sign yesterday." " Oh, certainly, my lord ; I "svill deliver it to you immedi- ately ; " taking it from his desk, and expressing his regret at not being able to carry out liis lordship's wishes. " I will thank you, Mr. Harcourt, notwithstanding, to observe your promise of secresy in this transaction, or the consequence may be as unpleasant to yourself as to me." " Oh, certainly, my lord," replied Harcourt ; " nothing which has occurred between us shall ever escape my lips." " I hope not, sir, for your sake as well as my own," growled Lord Ap-shire, who, crumpling the paper in his hand, turned majestically to the door. CHAPTER XLV. The marquis, furious at his rejection, and Mr. Harcourt's duplicity, was in no very complacent humour when he met Lord Henry three hours afterwards at his club ; and he at once said he was so thoroughly disgusted with Harcourt's conduct in trying to make a Jew bargain with him, that he had declined having anything more to do with him. " Then you have resigned all pretensions to Miss Douglas, Ayi'shire 1 Is that fact ? " " Exactly, Bayntun." " What, after the agreement you signed yesterday 1 Hov is this ] " A DISCLOSURE. S6? " Harcourt would not stand to his terms ; se I quashed tlie thii.g off-hand with that double-dealing old humbug." "Then you have made an ass of me, Ayrshire, also, as I have seen Mangle on the matter, whom, I have no doubt, will accept your proposal for his client, and I am to call again in Lincoln's Inn this evening." " It cannot be helped now, Bayntun, the thing is at an end." " Not quite, Ayrshire j my part of the contract has been performed." " Oh, I understand ; we can talk of that another day, as I am in a great hurry now to keep an engagement, and my horse is waiting." Lord Henry, nettled at this cool treatment, determined to find out more ; and meeting Lord Malcolm soon after in the Park, asked some questions about his cousin, whether there was any truth in the report of her being engaged to Lord Ayrshire. " Not the slightest," was the reply. " Indeed, Malcolm, are you quite sure ? " " Positive, Bayntun ; but who is your news-monger ? " " "Well, what would you say to a hint from the man him- self, that it was, or would be, the case without doubt." "Do you mean to imply that Ayrshire told you he had been accepted by my cousin, Bayntun 1 " There was no reply, but a knowing look and a provoking smile on his face, which at once rousing Lord Malcolm's tem^^er, he hastily said : "Lord Ayrshire was flatly refused by Miss Douglas, who has been engaged to my friend, Beauchamp, for the last six months, to my certain knowledge — there, Bayntim, I conclude that is plain enough, and strong enough to check any further idle boasting about her." " Is the thing quite settled, Malcolm ? " " Quite so," was the reply ; " and her guardian's consent obtained." " What a fool Ayrshire has made of me, then," exclaimed Lord Henry ; and, without hesitation, he related all that had occurred between them, and his interview with Mangle. "Upon my word, Bayntun, this beats horse-dealing, with those two fellows banterincj and bargaining for mv cousin as if she was to be put up to auction, and knocked down to the highest bidder — confound it, sir, this is too bad ; and I will ex- pose their audacious proceedings to the world." 368 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Serve tliem botli right, Malcolm, — but don't be in too great a hurry — although Ayrshire has treated me very cava/- lierly also." " Well, Bayntun, you may serve tcs now, so go, keep your appointment with that rascal, Mangle ; and if you can pick out what you suspect, and I believe to be the case, that it is a trumped-up affair, by Jove ! I'll give you the two thousand pounds, and engage Beauchamp shall give you two more." " On your honour, Malcolm, are you in earnest 1 " " On my oath, if necessary." "Enough, old fellow, I'm off to Lincoln's Inn, and will meet you to-morrow at the club, at two o'clock." There being a grand re-union that night at Lady Hasleton's, Lord Henry was there, and knowing his ^;e?^c^a?^^ for Miss Douglas, Lady Fanny Trimmer began bantering him on the sudden downfall of his idol. " "What a fortunate escape for your lordship — and Ayrshire, after such very particular attentions, has altered his tone completely this evening — can't endure the name of Douglas now — ha, ha ! " " No wonder Ayrshire has changed his key," replied Lord Henry, "when he found all the notes in B flat." "Kejected ! Lord Henry, do you really mean to say he has been refused by that pretty little impostor ? " " She is no impostor," replied Lord Henry, indignantly ; " but an impostor has laid claim to her property, to which he has no more right than I have j that fact has come to my knowledge this day ; and as for Ayrshire and others sneering at and running down Miss Douglas now, it is because she has re- jected half a score of them, at least, before a word was said about her loss of fgrtune." " You astonish me. Lord Henry : refuse Ayrshire ! impos- sible ! What girl in her senses could commit such folly 1 " " I suppose, then, when young ladies are in love, they are out of their senses, and, therefore. Miss Douglas, having been attached to Lord Beauchamp before she made her clebdt in the London world, has been mad enough to prefer him to all our gay men of ton." " Gracious goodness ! how romantic ! and Lord Beauchamp really intends to marry her, notwithstanding this claim upon her property 1 " "Yes," replied Lord Henry, "if she had not a shilling in the world, but I wish I were as secure of my bets as she is of her rights." * THE DEVIL m PETTICOATS.** 369 Lady Fanny Trimmer "was not slow to communicate the intelligence received from Lord Henry to her numeroua acquaintances ; and the news spread quickly through the gay assembly that Lord Ayrshire had been rejected by the heiress. Sir John Martingale having experienced a similar check, which he attributed to the influence of the marquis, could not forbear expressing his satisfaction at his rival's discomfiture ; and on meeting him, said, " So, Ayrshire, it seems you are on the wrong side of the post yourself, as well as one or two other men, in spite of all your jockejdng to hustle and bustle them ofi" the course." "I don't comprehend you, Martingale 1 " " Well, then, my lord, it is rumoured you have failed to in- duce Miss Douglas to become Marchioness of Ayrshire." *'And who, sir, has had the audacity to circulate such a report 1 " inquired the marquis, in a violent passion. " It is all over the room, my lord, and no longer a secret." " Your authority, sir ? " demanded the marquis, imperiously. That you shall have, my lord, if you will assert it is not true." "That is nothing to the purpose, sir. I require yonr authority." " I heard the news from Lady Fanny Trimmer, who was telling it openly," replied the baronet. " The devil in petticoats ! " muttered the marquis, as he turned away to find the wholesale retailer of scandal. But his worst fears were realised, when he was referred by that sarcastic lady to Lord Henry Bayntun, and the look of savage despair with which he received this unlooked-for disclosure from his quondam friend, confirmed Lady Fanny's impression that the report was perfectly true. " Ha ! ha ! " she laughed, as the marquis abruptly left her, without a word in return, " the aiTow has pierced the bull's eye this time, and the fastidious marquis has fallen by the bow of a simple country maiden." Not daring to question Lord Henry, whose pride and quick temper were equal to his own, for fear of a thorough exjjose of his transactions with Harcourt, Lord Ayrshire quitted the room, and left London a few days after, on a continental tour, ridiculed by all his associates — regretted by none. The next day, Malcolm held a long consultation with Lord Henry, who had prevailed on Mangle to accept the thirty thou- sand pounds in satisfaction of his client's claim. " It's a hollow thing," said he ; " and my impression is, we could catch this rascal out with a little more trouble," 870 tHE MAStER OP THE HOTJNDS. **Well, Bayntun, if you do not regard the trouble, and can Bucceed with us in upsetting him altogether, Beauchamp and myself will double our stakes, and make yea a present of ten thousand pounds, which I-hope will set you straight." " Will you, by Jove, Malcolm ? " "Yes, we. will, indeed ; and sign an agi-eement to that eflFect, if you require it." " No, no, old fellow ; I can trust your word and Beauchamp's —but a thought has struck me, which I think will help us a /ittle to clear up this mystery. In Mangle's den — which, by the way, is a dark, gloomy room — there is a sham book-case, lettered outside with reports and law books, but hollow within, and the key generally left in the door of this closet, which con- feains only a few old dusty parchments. Now, as I know he ^ill be absent to-morrow from two until four o'clock, I will take my tiger with me, who is a sharp, quick boy, smuggle him into the closet, whilst I write a few lines just to rouse him a little, and return for an answer in half-an-hour, leaving the boy, with the key inside, to hear the remarks Mangle makes on my letter, which I shall leave on the table." " But suppose he should discover the boy 1 " " Then the little rascal shall have his story all ready, to say he got there to overhear what his master and the lawyer were talking about ; and a caning from me — which, of course, won't hurt him over much — but I shall watch my friend into his den, and allow him time only to read the letter." " "Well, Bayntun," replied Malcolm, " I must leave you to jour own devices ; so now, good-bye, as Beauchamp is waiting for me." About half-past three the following day, Lord Henry drove in his cab to Lincoln's Inn, with his tiger behind, to whom ho had previously given instructions how to act, and his training- groom inside, dressed as a gentleman, who held the reins, while Lord Henry alighted at Mangle's door, and going to the clerk's room, inquired if he had returned. " No, my lord," was the reply ; " but we expect him in at four o'clock." " Very well," said Lord Henry, " I cannot wait now ; but as I wish to see him on particular business, I will write a note in. his room, and leave it on his table." " Oh, certainly, my lord," showing him into his employer's sanctum, and placing wilting materials before him, after which the clerk returned to his own business, and the boy, who hail I Mangle loses his key and his temper. 37 i been standing outside the entrance watching his opportinity, slipped in unperceived, and was immediately ensconced in his hiding-place. The purport of Lord Henry's note was to propose an interview with Mr. Archibald Douglas, Mangle's supposed client, to come to a final arrangement the next afternoon at four o'clock, and that he would return for an answer in half an hoxir. Having finished his despatch, and whispering the boy to keep his ears open and his mouth shut, Lord Henry halloed to the clerk, saying he had left the note and would call again between, four and five, and jumping into his cab, drove ofi" towards the West End, where, leaving it with directions to his man to drive home, and return to the same place at five o'clock, he retraced i.-'is steps to Lincoln's Inn, and watched on the opposite side of 'the :^quare until he saw Mangle re-enter his office. " That will do," muttered Lord Henry ; " now ten minutes to allow him time to read my note, and I'll warrant, by his private ejacula- tions, Tom picks something out." The boy experienced some queer sensations when he heard the lion bounce into his den, followed by the clerk, who said Lord Hemy had been there writing a note, and would call again ; but his terror was considerably increased when the lawyer at- tempted to open the book-case to deposit his bag." " Where's the key, sir ? " demanded Mangle of the clerk ; " I left it here when I Vv^ent out." " Can't say, sir," replied the man j " perhaps you put it in your pocket." " No, sir, I did not," retorted Mangle, " I never do," fumbling all the while to see if it were there. " Well, sir, I heard you lock the door when you took out your bag, and perhaps you have droj^ped the key somewhere." " I did no such thing, Mr. Scribble ; but there, get along now, and mind you find it before you leave the office." This little affair ruffled Mr. Mangle's excitable temper sufficiently to create an explosion on reading Lord Henry's note. " What the devil does this blackleg of a lord want to see my client for 1 some sharping trick, I suppose — but there, that cock won't fight. Confound the fellow ! he'd let the cat out of the bag, or sell me, perhaps, at once. Monkton is a keen rascal in some things, although a confounded ass in others, good-looking, and all that sort of thing ', but my lord will be sure to catch him tripping — he's a deuced deep hand that Lord Henry, and would know a snob from a gentleman in the twinkling of hi* X 2 $72 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. eye. No, no, it won't do, it won't do — but I must go down to Brompton this evening, and see what I can make of the fool — but confound it ! here's Lord Henry," as his lordship halloed to the clerk to inquire if Mr. Mangle had returned. " Yes, my lord, you will find him in his room." "Halloa! Mangle," exclaimed Lord Henry, "put your hat on, a moment, and just walk with me to the end of the square, fts I am all behind-time, horse taken ill, and obliged to send him home ; we can walk and talk as well as sit and talk, so come along." They had no sooner left the room than the boy emerged from his hiding-place, and recollecting the discussion about the key, locked the closet door again, and throwing it under Man- gle's chair, slipped noiselessly from the apartment, and walked in a different direction to his master; but a sharp whistle, before he turned the corner of the square, satisfied Lord Henry that his tiger had escaped. That was all he required. Mangle fruitlessly endeavoured to shake Lord Henry's purpose of seeing his client. " Why surely, my lord," argued the lawyer, " his signature will be quite suflScient; what more can you require?" " To see and know the man. Mangle, and witness with my own eyes his handwriting. Did any one ever hear of such a one-sided bargain as this, not to know, or even see, the principal you are dealing with ? Come, come. Mangle, this won't do with men on the turf." " Well, my lord, I will endeavour to meet your wishes j but I am not sure that Mr. Douglas is in London." " Yery well — then I must wait till he is," replied Lord Henry, "and now, good evening." The tiger, seeing the coast clear of the lawyer, quickly joined his master, and told him what he had overheard Mangle mutter- ing to himself on reading the note. " By Jove ! Tom, it's all right, just as I expected," exclaimed his lordship, " and your fortune is made, my boy, if things turn out as I believe they will. Now you go back into the square, to the elm trees, where you can keep your eye on Mangle's doorway — watch him like a cat at a mouse-hole, and if he leaves the office before I return, follow close on his heel, whether he takes omnibus or cab, to Brompton — mark the number of the house he calls at, and wait for me in the road, at the upper turning." After giving these directions. Lord Henry went in search pf a Bow Street officer and having made him don liis best, and THE PRETENDED DOUGLAS. 373 look as little like a man of h's calling as possible, tliey returned to Lincoln's Inn — but the boy was nowhere to be seen. They then Walked into Holborn, got into a cab, and pulling down the blinds, drove to the Brompton road. Tom was on his post at the corner, and Lord Henry seeing him, pulled up, when the boy, running to the door whispered the number of the house which he said the lawyer had just left, and was walking towards his own home, which lay farther down the road. The cab was dismissed, and Lord Henry with his friend approaclied arm-in- arm to the house. On ringing the bell, the door was opened by a servant girl, who seeing a handsome-looking gentleman in Lord Henry (tlie officer having turned his back towards her), said she believed Mr. Monkton was at home ; on which both entered the passage, and the door was closed. " What name shall I say, sir ? " asked the girl. A friend's card being substituted for his own, Lord Henry was shown up-stairs into a back sitting-room, and a tall, rather genteel-looking young man came forward to meet him. " Your name is Monkton, sir, I believe," said Lord Henry. A bow was returned only. " I wish to know,'* continued his lordship, "whether you are really Mr. Monkton or not, before entering on my business." "My name is Monkton, sir.'* "And I think you are acquainted with a friend of mine also, Mr. Mangle, of Lincoln's Inn," added Lord Henry. An aflarmative being given. Lord Henry proceeded, "you have assumed another name lately, Mr. Monkton, that of Douglas, and are attempting to set up a claim to the property of Miss Douglas, in Scotland, on the plea of being her cousin." The eyes of Lord Henry were riveted on Monkton's face (from which the Bow Street officer had never wandered since entering the room) and he turned pale during this address, his lips quivering with fear, when Lord Henry, reading guilt in his averted looks, suddenly exclaimed, " You are an impostor, sir." "And my prisoner," added the official, producing a pair of hand-cuffs. "I am a Bow Street officer, Mr. Monkton, alias Douglas, alias Jones ; and I think, sir, I have had the pleasure of meeting you before." In a moment the culprit fell on his knees before Lord Henry, begging and imploring not to be sent to prison, and he would reveal everything. " Indeed, sii', I have been put up to tliis by Mangle, indeed I have, and will tell you the whole plot if you will only spare me." 374: THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " You are a d d rascal ! " exclaimed Lord Henry, ''and deserve to be transported ; but what shall we do, Forrester ? " " Cage him, my lord, cage him, by all manner of means ; he gave me the slip once before in a little swindling affair — ■ 'tis the same youngster, I verily believe." " Oh, no, sir ; indeed I never saw you before in my life, to the best of my recollection." " Which seems to be werry bad, young gentleman," replied Forrester. " It wants brushing up a little ; you'll soon re- member something more, when we have a quiet chat in the lock-up to-night. But stay a moment, just let ine have a look at my memorandum book. ' Mark M. on left arm ; ' " and, without ceremony, pulling up the young man's sleeve, " Here it is, my lord," exclaimed the officer, " right as a trivet." On this discovery, Monkton's appeals to Lord Henry for mercy were renewed, offering to make a full confession if he ■would only spare him being sent to prison. " Then sit down and let us hear what you have to say first," replied his lordship, " and I will put it down on paper." Monkton then made the following declaration : that his aunt, now Mrs. Douglas, but formerly Miss Monkton, had left England as the mistress of Mr. Douglas, to whom she had been married only a few weeks previous to his death, and when there remained no hopes of his recovery. That on her return to London she was advised to consult Mr. Mangle on the state of her affairs, and with the aid and advice of that worthy, a plot was concocted to substitute himself as her son instead of nephew, and alter the date of the marriage certificate to two years previous to the time of its being performed ; and he, Monkton, was to be substituted by his aunt and another woman, as her son, born in wedlock, and, therefore, heir to the property. " Yery good indeed," said Forrester, when Monkton ceased Speaking, " a very pretty little scheme ; just the sort of thing to get a man's passage paid for him across the herring pool. Have you ever been in India, Mr. Monkton 1 " inquired For- rester. " I don't remember being there, sir ; perhaps I may, when very young." " Oh, very likely, with your mamma," added the officer, laughing ; " but it will be my business now to find out your birth, parentage, and education, young gentleman; and I rather think your worthy father fills a situation at the London Docks." There was no reply. THE BET WON. 375 "Is that true or not, you young rascal?" demanded Fc;^ rest«r. " Oh, yes, sir," replied Monkton ; " but my fatlier knows nothing of tliis business, indeed he don't." "Well, you yotmg villain, I've got you now, safe enough j you/ father will perhaps lose his situation when this thing is made known, and you will be transported to a dead certainty. Now, my lord, I await your orders; time presses, and I must return." " Then my decision is this : before I see Lord INIalcolm, take this young gentleman with you to your own house, and keep him there until to-morrow at twelve o'clock, by which time I shall have Lord Malcolm's insv^ructions how to act. Treat him well, and ascertain all about his family, his mother par- ticularly, if she is still living, and where." " Yes, my lord," replied Monkton, " my father and mother live together at 8, Dock Street." " Very well, send for them to be at your house then, For- rester, to-morrov/ by twelve o'clock ; but no communication before we arrive ; and now, ]Mr. Monkton," said Lord Henry, "if you make a clean breast of the whole business, I will endeavour to pei-suade Lord I>Ia]oolm to deal lenieptly with you. Good night, Forrester, and mind your charg'?,'' and Lord Henry ran down stairs, slipping a half crown into the girl's hand, got into a cab, and drove furiously to Grosvenor Square. The ladies had just left the dinip.g room, when Lord Henry, without any ceremony, rushed in, csxclaiming, "I have won my bet, Malcolm, and nabbed the impostor, Mr. Archibald Douglas^ alias Monkton, alias Jones, and left him in old Forrester'ii clutches." " Hurrah I" shouted Malcolm. « Thank God ! " ejaculated the old earl. ** Bravo ! " cried Beauchamp, as Lord Henry proceeded in his story. '^ But you have not dined yet, Bayn- tun," the latter reinarked, "I never think of dinner, Beauchamp, when I've work on hand ; but won't refuse some now ; " which being immediately ordered, he succinctly related all that occurred since his interview with Mangle. " Well done ! capital ! excelleivt ! '* wa« echoed by all ; " a lawyer outwitted at last ! " The soup being placed on the table, Beauchamp ran up stairs to give Blanche the joyful intelligeuce, j-nd tailing her aside, whispered, " Can you bear fcood no-x/^ my doartN^-i girl, as well a.3 you havo boi'iie bid ^ " 3T6 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Oh, yes, dear William, I hope I can.'* "Then our suspicions are verified, and the impostor who assumed your name is in custody." " Thank Heaven, dear William ! " she cried, falling into his arms and bursting into tears; "then I have not been a usurper of another's rights." " No, my love ; Lord Henry has unravelled the iniquitous plot got up by that villain. Mangle, and is now having some dinner below, whilst I ran up to tell you that you are the heiress still." Lady Malcolm, Mrs. Gordon, and Constance now crowded round Beau champ, kissing Blanche, and expressing their rap- turous delight at the recovery of her fortune, whilst he was giving a more detailed account of Lord Henry's clever trick in catching the lawyer. Leaving the ladies to the enjoyment of mutual felicitations, Beauchamp descended to the dining-room, where Lord Henry, having quickly dispatched his dinner, was discussing with Malcolm, over their claret, the proceedings to be taken on the morrow; and it being finally arranged that Malcolm and Beauchamp should meet him the next day at Forrester's house, at twelve o'clock, Lord Henry soon after took his leave, saying he had engaged to attend the Duchess of B 's grand re-union that evening. CHAPTER XLYI. Being fully enlisted on the Douglas side, Lord Henry aston- ished his friend Danby and others with his adventures of the day, and speaking in high terms of the Earl of Annandale and Beauchamp, said, " Father and son are both trumps, and have invited me to stay with them at Bampton the whole of next hunting season, and given me carte hlanclie to shoot over their property in the north, with quarters at the Castle whenever I like to go there." " Deuced liberal, indeed," replied Sir John Martingale ; " I wish you would introduce me, Bayntun, to Beauchamp." " What ! to try whether you could be more successful with Lady Beauchamp than you have been with Miss Douglas 1 No, indeed, my boy ; your flirtations with young married women are too notorious already, and Beauchamp is very particular in THE FIRST FAVOURI'ra. . 377 these matters, although as warm and kind-hearted a fellow aa ever breathed." "Then it is all settled, Bayntun, that Miss Douglas is to become Lady Beauchamp 1 " "Quite, Martingale, and Malcolm marries Beauchamp's sister, and two handsomer couples never stood at the altar." " That's true enough, Bayntun, and I only wish I could stand in Beauchamp's shoes on that one morning.'* " Ay, ay. Martingale, you are not singular in that wish ; "witness Danby, poor fellow, whom I do pity ; but Ayrshire and others not. However, Beauchamp and Miss Douglas have been attached since boy and girl, so says Malcolm, and may the devil take the man who would part them — that's my opinion, Martingale j " with which Lord Henry turned away, and forth- with communicated to Lady Fanny Trimmer and other ladies whose jealousy of the heiress was well known, the not very gratifying information of her opponent's defeat and the capture of the impostor. Selina Markliam alone rejoiced at her friend's re-establishment in her just rights, and remarked to Lord Henry, " Beauchamp is not quite the spooney I took him for, and verifies the old saying, 'that silent birds pick up most grubs.' Will has been running mute, like one of his cunning old hounds when the fox is sinking, and beaten the flashy town pack gloriously. Hurrah for the provincials ; we shall have a jolly time of it this winter — hunt six days a week, with open house at Bampton. Balls and dinner parties without end. Won't you come down. Lord Henry, and see how we do things in our quiet country 1 " "Not very quiet, I suspect, Miss Markliam, if I am to judge by what I hear of your gaieties and hospitalities last winter ; Danby says he enjoyed himself amazingly." " Ah, yes, I dare say he did ; but then he saw everything couleur de rose — every scene was one of enchantment to him, where Blanche was present." " Ah, Miss iMarkhara, Danby is deucedly cut up about that little aflfair ; but he did not go the way to mend matters by playing the grandee over Beauchamp. Your sex are ever ready to avenge an insult offered to their favourites, and from the night of his purposely excluding Beauchamp from the last ball at Castle- ton House, Miss Douglas has scarcely noticed him ; but for this piece of folly, he would have stood second favourite at least — certainly before Ayrshire ; and my advice is never to throw away f. chance, as the first favourite does not always come in a winner.** 378 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " But in a love-race is seldom a loser, Lord Henry, if the young lady lias to decide herself." " Then Miss Douglas, in your opinion, would neither have accepted Danby, Ayrshire, or any other, notwithstanding Hai'- court's assertions to the contrary, and would have continued constant to Beauchamp until she became mistress of her own fortune?" "Certainly, Lord Henry ; 'still waters run deep,' and Blanche feels deeply, although her true character is not known to com- mon acquaintances," " Well, Miss Markham, she has made fools of many knowing hands this season." " Or rather," replied Selina, " they have made fools of them- selves, by choosing to assume that a young country girl must of n-ecessity be such a simpleton as to be taken directly by their flattering, fulsome, fine speeches. Wo are not quite the Jenny Haws you are condescending enough to think us, my lord." " So it appears, Miss Markham ; and I'll bet a cool hundred Ayrshire does not forget the name of Douglas for these next ten years, if then. Well, that supercilious fool wanted a settler, and he has got one at last. Egad ! all the women were at him like magpies round a tame hawk, when they found his wing had been clipped, and he bolted at once for the Continent. Ajid you. Miss ]Markham, have, I fear, made sad havoc with some hearts also." " Not with yours, my lord, I hope." "Why, no, not exactly yet, Miss Markham; although, I must confess a little 'penchant was beginning to spring up, when I was informed you had decided on being an old man's darlinsj." " Well, my lord, if such were the case, that is far preferable to being a gambler's wife." " Thank you for that compliment, Miss Markham." "Which your impertinence called forth, Loi'd Henry; young gentlemen should not pry into the secrets of ladies' work- boxes, where they may find needles which will prick their fingers." " It is only what I deserved ; but I hope we shall still be friends, and I will keep clear of the needles for the future, which I feel can prick confoundedly. But why call a lady's heart a workbox % " " Because the heart lies in the chest ; and an Italian friend A "sceptical" foe thieves. 379 of mine would persist in calling a pain in his cliest a pain in his box ; but this pain in his box was cured by marrying the lady who caused it." "Well, Miss JMarkham, I have always heard matrimony was a specific cure for that tormenting malady called love." " It may allay the unpleasant irritation attending it, with- out working a radical cure, Lord Henry, except in such cases as my friend, the Count's, whose disorder was of a most acute and highly inflammatory kind ; but in a chronic disease of long standing, the ]>atient seldom expects or hopes for a remedy ; and now I think it is time for me to bid adieu to these fairy scenes and you, as we leave town to-morrow for Barton Court, where, probably, I may have the pleasure of seeing you, and showing you the way to clear a five-barred gate after the Bampton foxliounds." "Nothing would delight me more than to follow such a leader," replied Lord Henry ; " and if alive, I shall certainly avail myself of Beauchamp's kind invitation." We must now look after our friend Mangle, who (having hired a lodging for Monkton in the Brompton Road, where he called twice daily in his way to and from his office, to watch his client, or rather tool, as well as his case), was struck dumb with astonishment the next morning by the information given him when calling, by the landlady, that his charge had been carried off the previous evening by a Bow Street officer. "A Bow Street officer, ma'am?" exclaimed Mangle, in bewilderment. " Yes, sir, I did say a Bow Street officer ; on a charge of forgery, sir ; and ain't you ashamed of yourself, Mr. Mangle, to put a dii'ty fellow of that sort into a respectable widowed woman's house ? It'll be my ruin, sir, palming a low vagabond like that off as a gentleman of fortune. It's a nasty blackguard trick ; and although you may be a lawyer, I'll have the ]aw of you for making my house a sceptical for thieves and pick- pockets." " Hold your clatter, you old beldame," cried Mangle, " it'a false, I say — it's all a lie." " It's all true, I say, you rapscallion of a man. I heard the fellow falling on his knees — cry for mercy — and confess all about it ; he said that lawyer Mangle put him up to forging the deed, and my lord took it down on paper, and the man you call Monkton signed his name, and swore it was tA'>»^ ^verj word, that was written." 3»0 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " The devil he did ! " excliiimed Mangle ; " what a rascal ! and who was the lord ? " " Can't say, Mr. Mangle, as I don't know and don't care ; but he was called Lord Henry somebody." *' Hell and destruction ! " muttered Mangle, as he rushed from the door and jumped into a cab that was passing ; "it's all over with me ! " Returning to his house, the lawyer wrote a short note to his partners, telling them what had occurred, and that, in conse- quence, he should leave town for a short time, until the thing had blown over ; and taking all the money he had in his strong box, he immediately started for America. At twelve o'clock the same morning, Malcolm and Beauchamp met Lord Henry at the private residence of the Bow Street officer, and found Mr. Monkton in a most communicative mood ; and it was evident from this young gentleman's confessions, that Mangle was the originator and inventor of the plot, the alteration in the date of the marriage certificate being made by his own hand. Monkton' s father and mother were also in attendance, both declaring they knew nothing of the business in which their son was implicated, as he had ceased to live with them for several months. The father implored Malcolm and Beauchamp not to prosecute his son, or he should most likely be dismissed from his employment in the docks. " Indeed, my lords," pleaded he, " the lad, although wilful and wayward sometimes, would never have imagined such a trick as this — he is only the dupe of that rascally lawyer.'* ^*But your sister," replied Beauchamp, "is also concerned in this conspiracy. Where is she ? " " She has lived at Islington, my lord, since her return from India ; but as she passes herself off for a lady now, we seldom meet, and she is too good, or too bad, for us humble people." " Yery well, Mr. Monkton," continued Beauchamp ; " then 1 shall require you to go with me and Lord Malcolm to her residence, whilst your wife remains here until our return ; your son will then swear to the statement he has made before a magistrate, and you must be bound over to produce him as a witness against Mangle, when required j do you agree to this proposal ? " " Yes, my lord, most willingly." "Yery well; then, Bayntun, will you be kind enough to Bwait our return from Islington ? " This was readily assented to ; and Beauchamp and Malcolm, A CHANGE IN THE STATE OP AFFAIRS. 381 with Monkton, drove directly to Islington, where they found Mrs. Douglas at home. Leaving Monkton below, they were ushered into her sitting-room, when Beauchamp thus addressed her — " Your name is Douglas, I presume, madam ? ** "Yes, sir, it is." "You have set up a claim, I believe, to the property of ISIiss Douglas in Scotland, on behalf of a young man you call your son 3 " " He is my son, sii', and I'll swear it — born in lawful wed- lock ; and Miss Douglas will soon be bundled out of her ill- gotten estates." " You audacious woman ! " exclaimed Beaucliamp, in just indignation ; " your plot is discovered, and this young scamp you would perjure yourself to prove your son, is now in custody, and his father in this house — call Mr. Monkton up, Malcolm." The lady sat in speechless horror at this sudden announcement; and when her brother entered the room, fell back senseless in her chair. Restoratives being promptly applied, she soon re- covered ; but "a change came over the spirit of her dream" on her brother saying her trick was found out, and that she must now expect to go to prison for it, as Dick had confessed all. Tears and entreaties were now substituted for boasts and threats, and appeals for mercy to Beauchamp, on account of her children, who would be thrown almost penniless on the world. " Indeed, indeed, sir," she cried, " Mr. Douglas had very little to leave me when he died ; and I have scarcely sufficient to 8uj)port them and myself" "The children of Mr. Douglas, although illegitimate," replied Beauchamp, " shall not want a friend ; neither shall you be left destitute — on one condition — that you make a full con- fession of the part you have taken in this business." "Do it, Susan," whispered her brother, "'tis your only chance ; and trust to his lordship's generosity." "I will make no terms with your sister, Mr. Monkton," added Beauchamp, "no promises of any kind ; but will leave you with her alone for a few minutes, to decide how to act." In a quarter of an hour Monkton came down to say his sister was ready to accompany them and make her declaration before a magistrate that she had no children born after her marriage with Mr. Douglas. They then returned to Forrester's and all the party concerned and implicated went before a magistrate, when their voluntary statements and depositions were written down 38^ THE MASTER OF THE HOUKDS. by the clerk from tlieir own moutlis, duly signed and attested m his presence; and he expressed a hope that the originator of this nefarious plot might be brought to justice. " I must now beg, sir," replied Beanchamp, " for a warrant to apprehend this scoundrel, Mangle, and bring him before you to-morrow," which being granted, and placed in the officer's hands, the party then separated, Beauchamp having told Mrs. Douglas he should call Tipon her the next day. From the statement of Mrs. Douglas, it appeared that Mangle first suggested the scheme of altering her marriage cer- tidcate and setting np some young man for her son ; and that she then named her nephew as being exactly of the proper age. The alteration in the date of the year was made by the lav/yer himself in her presence ; and she was warned by that worthy to swear through thick and thin to her story, which she was fully prepared to do. Beauchamp, therefore, thought it prudent, in the absence of other evidence, to make use of this bad woman and her nephew to prove the case against the chief conspirator, Mangle, who held possession of the certificate ; but the fraud being now clearly established by her own voluntary statement, and her nephew disproved, by his own father and mother, to be her son, he had no wish to proceed further, being most anxious to return to the country, although still considering it his duty to bring the greatest rogue of the party to condign punishment. Having cautioned Monkton to take care of his son, and pro- mising that young scamp that if he would remain at home and conduct himself steadily, he should be provided with some suit- able employment, Beauchamp returned with Malcolm and Lord Henry to their club, where he wrote a note, with an order on his banker for ten thousand pounds, and handing it to Lord Henry, expressed his thanks for his ready wit in so quickly ex- posing the tricks of their opponents. " Come, come, Beauchamp," exclaimed Malcolm, on seeing the amount, " only half this is your share — the other belongs to me." "We can settle that another day, Malcolm, as I have no time now to write another draft — so come along, or I must leave you ;'* and, shaking hands with Lord Henry, he put ou his hat and left the room. THE BARGAIN. 3^3 CHAPTER XT.VII. The rjel-iglit of Blanclie on hearing from her lover tnat her rights were now completely re-established, may be easily imagined, when Malcolm said, '* Ay, ay, Blanche, this is all right, and very capital news ; but Beanchamp has uot informed you that it has cost him ten thousand pounds ;" and he then told her of their agreement with Lord Henry, and his having the whole instead of his proper share. " I would willingly have given as much more," replied Beau- champ, " to relieve my dear Blanche of her apprehensions ; and now the matter is settled, Malcolm, I beg you will never allude to it again, as it ought to have been private between us." " So it would, Beauchamp, had you not served me the trick you did, by paying all ; but I will be even with you, old fellow." " My dear, generous William," exclaimed Blanche, " how can I ever repay you for all your kind, affectionate anxiety on my behalf?" " Easily enough, my love," he replied ; and, placing his arm round her waist, whispered, " by becoming my own dear Blanche on or before the first of August." Her hand was placed in his, whilst a crimson hue suffused her face and forehead ; but there was no reply. " Well, Blanche," interposed Malcolm, " I guess what the reward is to be ; but Beauchamp is not so very generous, after all ; and I think he has made a capital bargain by paying ten thousand pounds for ten thousand a-year ; this is quite a la Harcourt ; and you may depend upon it, my love. Will Beau- champ is a long-headed, calculating fellow, and has got the blind side of you ; stuff and nonsense about disinterested affection ! He has been all the time looking to your money, my dear." " Well, Charles, then I am most happy to find he has suc- ceeded in getting it at last." " And he will make ducks and drakes of it before you are maiTied a couple of years." " Ah, Charles, I don't regard your joking and bantering now," she Implied, laughing ; " neither will William ; so good- bye, Charley dear, as I must run and tell Aunt Gordon this joyful news ;" saying which, she tripped lightly from the draw- ing-room, like a second Hebe, radiant in smiles and beauty. " By Jove ! " cried Malcolm, " you are a lucky dog, Beau^ 384 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDg. cliampi to have gained the love of that sweet, true-hearted girl, who is more like an angel than a woman." " Indeed, Malcolm, I am most thankful for this inestimable blessing, and my life shall be devoted to her happiness." " I don't doubt it, my dear fellow, for I believe you love her ten times mo/e than your o^vn self ; and now let us dress foi dinner." The family party that evening was one of the happiest in London ; and the gloom which had hung over Blanche Douglas being dispelled, her usual cheerfulness returned, which put the old earl and Mrs. Gordon in high spirits. " Ah, you naughty child," exclaimed the former, " you are rejoicing now that you are on a par with my boy Will. I see it all, you proud girl." " I am proud and pleased, my dear father, to have it in my power to bestow on him something which may compensate for the trouble he will have in taking care of me." " No, no, child, you are thinking of the dash you will make in town next season as Lady Beauchamp, and drive my poor boy crazy with your flirtations ; I read your purpose in those wicked eyes, Blanche, and am almost sorry you have recovered your fortune." . " It will be William's soon, my dear father, and if he chooses to bring me to London, I cannot prevent that ; but I can pre- vent myself flirting." " Then come here, child, I have a word to say for your ear alone ;" and drawing Blanche close to him, he whispered, " if you ever do flirt, my dear girl, which Heaven forbid, you will certainly break your husband's heart, and your father's too." " My kind, dear father," she replied, *' never will I cause you or him one moment's uneasiness ; and surely you do not think me capable of acting so disgracefully." " No, no, my precious child ; so now give me a kiss, and sing me my favourite old song of ' Home, sweet home,' where, please God, we will be again by the end of this week." The next morning, the Bow Street officer called in Gros- venor Square about twelve o'clock, and informed Beauchamp that he believed jNlangle had cut and run. " He never went to his office yesterday, my lord, and the woman at Monkton's lodging told me he was in a desperate way when the name o/ Lord Henry was mentioned, and jumping into a cab, he drove back to his own house. There also I could hear nothing more than that he had left early yesterday morning for his office. The BEAUCHAMP LECTURES MRS. DOUGLAS. 385 door being thrown open, I thought it best not to search the house, or tell my errand, as I shall wait his return; but my impression is that he bolted the moment he heard young Monkton was nabbed, knowing he would squeak directly he was pinched." Having handsomely rewarded the officer for his trouble, and given him his address in the country, Beauchamp sought Blanche to consult her about Mrs. Douglas. " I do not like the mother at all," he said ; " she is a bold, impudent woman ; but the two daughters are genteel-looking, handsome girls, with the Douglas features, and being your uncle's children, I suggest setting them up in some business together as milliners, or allowing their mother three hundred a-year to maintain them until they marry, when I ^^^.ll give each a good marriage portion, if they form respectable connections." " Your proposal is very liberal, dear AYilliam, and you will of course take this money from my income." " We will talk of that another day, my dear girl, as I have only consulted you now to know if you approve my plans ; and as we have nothing to detain us in London, my father and myself intend leaving the day after to-morrow ; and I need not say what pleasure it would give us both, if Aunt Gordon and yourself will travel with us ; the two couples that are to be can occupy one carriage, and aunty and the governor the other, which will afford our venerable earl an opportunity of popping the question — only fancy aunty Countess of Annandale." " Oh, William, how can you be so silly 1 " " Silly, you stupid child ! you are silly not to perceive the unmistakable signs of the governor's ^e/?.c/ia?i^, which I have par- ticularly noticed for the last six months ; the fire has been smouldering for some time, and you will soon see it burst forth into a flame ; so now lue have had our spell of love-making, we will give them an opportunity of playing the same game ; but not a word or hint to aunty, Blanche ; leave all the arrrange- ments to me : only go now and prepare her for leaving, whilst I drive down to Islington, and to-morrow I will take you with me to do a little shopping by ourselves." Beauchamp gave Mrs. Douglas a severe lecture for her past infamous conduct, and then explained his intentions towards herself and children, for which she expressed her grateful thanks. " It will now," he said, " depend on your future conduct whether you receive any further assistance from Miss Douglas and myself;" and desiring then to see her daughters, he told T SS0 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. tliem also the allowance he had made their mother for their joint benefit, and his promise of a marriage portion to each ; *' but bear in mind, young ladies," he continued, " I do not wish you to * marry in haste and repent at leisure,' merely for the sake of the money, which I intend shall be yours, whether you marry or not, at the expiration of two years from this time ; aud if I hear a good account of you, that sum may be increased." Then, placing twenty pounds in the hand of each, with a hand- some present to the mother, Beau champ withdrew. He was followed down-stairs by the younger girl, Margaret, who, on opening the street door, said, " Will you tell me where you live. Lord Beauchamp 1 " " Why do you wish to know 1 " was the inquiry. " That I may write you those thanks which I cannot now express : indeed, my lord, I feel most grateful for your great kindness, which has saved us from misery and disgrace." " Your name is " " Margaret," she rej)lied. " There, then, Margaret, is my card and address ; write me your thoughts, not your thanks — the latter I can dispense Avith." " Oh, thank you, my lord," she replied, raising her eyes, glistening with tears, to his. There was so much in that appealing look which reminded Beauchamp so forcibly of his own dear Blanche, that he said, in his soothing tones, " Ai-e you not happy here, my poor girl T' She burst instantly into tears, but made no reply. " Come, Margaret, suppress your sobs ; I will call for you to-morroAv at eleven o'clock, so be ready for me, and I will take you a drive where you can tell me your wishes — but stay, I will let your mother know my intentions j " and running up-stairs, he asked her permission to take Margaret with him the next day to see a lady, who, he thought, might be of service to her. This was readily granted, and Beauchamp, finding Margaret still below, bid her cheer up, and shaking hands with her, jumped into his cab, and drove back to Grosvenor Square, where, the moment his knock was heard at the door, Blanche ran down to meet him in the hall. Taking her into the morning-room, he said, " Ah, Blanche, I have been making a fool of myself, I believe ; but you know my soft heart is always dragging me into scrapes, and a woman's tears knock me over at once." He then related what had passed between him and Margaret. MRS. GORDON RECElVEg MARGARET. SST " Dear William," she replied, " how can I blame you ? Perhaps this poor girl is very miserable with such a mother, and I will consult with Aunt Gordon what we can do with her j so pray bring her here at any rate, and we can see her in this room, without Aunt Malcolm kno^ving anything about her." Whatever Beauchamp said or did being almost certain to obtain Mrs. Gordon's approval, she expressed great sympathy in the cause of this unhappy girl, and agreed to take her as companion, if she realised Beauchamp's expectations, and really wished to leave her home. "There, aunty dear," said Beauchamp, "you are more soft- hearted than myself; but she has such a look of Blanche, that I am sure you will take a fancy to her directly." "Well, my dear boy, when you take Blanche from me, which I suppose will be the case very soon, I shall be left quite alone, and this poor girl may be some comfort to me, as well as a help in my old age." "My dearest, kindest friend," replied Beauchamp, pressing her hand in his, " you will never be left long alone by your dear children, as you call us ; for you must either be with us, or we with you ; so don't, my dear aunt, think of taking this girl on that account." "Well, well, William, then I can have her for a month or two occasionally ; so let me see her to-morrow morning." It is almost needless to add that, from Mrs. Gordon being already prepossessed in her favour, Margaret was received very kindly by that lady and Blanche ; and after a long conversation about family matters, in which, with good taste and feeling, she spoke as little as necessary of her mother's character and conduct, sufficient transj)ired to induce Mrs. Gordon to take her as companion ; and she accordingly gave her directions how to reach the Priory, with money to pay her expenses by coach, the beginning of the following week. Nothing could exceed the delight of the poor girl at this arrangement, who, it ap- peared, was very unhappy with her mother and sister, from causes which it is unnecessary to mention. Beauchamp, after her interview with Mrs. Gordon, escorted Margaret to a cab ; and having received her grateful thanks for his extreme kind- ness, gave directions to the driver where to go, and returned, according to his promise, to take Blanche for a walk. The first shop they entered was Turner's, the jeweller, where Beau- champ had ordered a pair of bracelets, set with precious stonet<3, of great value, with a beautiful necklace to correspond. Y 2 SSS tHE MAgTEn OF THE HOUNDS. "There, Blanche," he whispered, "is a little wedding present, which you must accept at my hands, unless you prefer something else." "Indeed, William," she replied, "I have quite snjfficient jewellery already; and do not like putting you to greater ex- pense on my account, after the immense sum you have paid Lord Henry." " I have ordered these purposely for you, dear girl, and you will seriously offend me by refusing them ; — they are fetters for your hands, and a chain for your neck, by which I shall bind you in cruel bondage to me for ever. Kow, Blanche, there is one other purchase I must make, of unspeakable value to me, though of little value in itself — a plain ring for your finger, which I shall keep until a certain auspicious morning." And Beauchamp, desiring a tray of rings to be brought and laid on the counter, told the foreman to leave them for their inspection, whilst he attended to his other customers. " Now, my dear girl, take off your left-hand glove, and try one of these on your third finger." Blanche blushed deeply, and her hand trembled, so that Beauchamp tried the rings for her ; and selecting the one which fitted her best, said softly — " Why do you tremble thus, my own dearest love ? Do you repent your choice 1 " " Oh, no, no, William ; never can I do that ; but I am rather nervous this morning." "Then look at those jewels further down, my love, whilst I have these things put up," which being done, he returned to her. " Now, Blanche, which of those trinkets would suit dear aunty best 1 for I must and will make her a present worth her acceptance." " I fear she will think us both very extravagant children, William, and lecture us, instead of receiving a present ; but I was just thinking of buying those bracelets (pointing them out) for her." " Then I shall take that trouble off your hands, Blanche, and you shall give her this brooch instead j but you need not now pay for it, as Mr. Turner has my name on his books, and I have desired him to send in my account, with these articles included." Blanche remonstrated, but in vain; when Beauchamp, taking up the two cases containing the brooch and the ring, desired the other things might be sent to Grosvenor Square \)j six o'clock at the latest that evening. OFF TO THE PRIORY. 38^ CHAPTER XLYIII. The next morning, after an early breakfast, as Beancliamp and Blanche, equipped in travelling costume, were looking out of the window of Lady !^Ialcolm's house, a handsome barouche, with postilions gaily dressed in jackets of the Beauchamp livery, and four beautiful bay horses, drove up to the do<;,>r. "Why, William," exclaimed Blanche, in surprise, "whose is that gay equipage 1 " " Yours, my dear girl ; the carriage and horses I have bought expressly for your use." She raised her eyes filled with tears, to his, with a look of grateful aflfection, without speaking — deep emotion preventing her utterance, when they were interrupted by Malcolm's enter- ing the room. " Is that your smart turn-out, Beauchamp ] " " No, Malcolm," was the quiet reply, with a smile. " The lads have your uniform, my boy, at any rate j but," looking at Blanche, " oh, I see — they are my Lady Beauchamp' s. By Jove ! old fellow, you have got the start of me, as usual, doing things in your silent, mysterious way. I have ordered a carriage for Constance, also ; but it won't be finished this fort- night. Where did you get yours ? " " At Houlditch's ; it was built for a gentleman, who "was obliged unexpectedly to leave England, and I took it off his hands." " And the bays 1 " ** Picked them up here and there about town." " Egad ! they are fine, slashing, well-bred looking animals — fit for hunting." "Yes, Malcolm, I looked them over, and have had them tried several times together in harness, and am satisfied they are quiet and good-tempered ; and you will see presently they can go a pretty good pace, when we are clear of London." "Really, Blanche, Beauchamp is resolved, I see, that you shall do things in style, and if you have not been a spoilt child, there is every prospect of your being a spoilt wife, my love. But here comes the other carriage, for the old pair ; so now let us be off, as I have taken leave of my mother, who has not yet left her room, but has promised to join us at the Priory, within the month." Constance now appeared, saying her father and Aunt Gordon were ready, and waiting below. 300 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. " Well, Malcolm," said the old peer, " what do you think of "Will taking us all by surj^rise witli that smart equipage for Blanche, and not to tell even liis old father what he was about 1 " " Just like him, my dear governor — always doing things on the sly." " And always thinking of those heloves, before himself," added Mrs. Gordon. "Now then. Will, off with your party," cried his father, " whilst Mrs. Gordon and myself bring up the rear." In ten minutes the four bays were trotting majestically through Hyde Park, making light of the barouche which followed at their heels, and the four happy occupants of its inside seats, whose cheerful voices and beaming smiles betokened their joy of being once more "homeward bound." No two schoolboys could be in higher spirits than Malcolm and Beau- champ; nor were Conbiance and Blanche less happy at their emancipation from the thraldom of town life. " Now then," cried Malcolm, when they had left the streets behind them, " let us see what Blanche's bays can do ; put them along, Beauchamp." " Pray don't let them go too fast, William," she cried, as he rose to speak to the postilions ; " pray don't, to oblige me." " Well, my love, then they shall only canter up the next rising ground, to show Malcolm how they can go together," ■which direction was given ; but -when once put on their mettle, the horses increased their speed to a full gallop, and raced away for a couple of miles, in spite of every effort to stop them. "Hurrah!" exclaimed Malcolm; "now we go Leger pace, by jingo ! Blanche, they can gallop a few." " Oh, William," cried both the girls at once, now seriously alarmed, " pray stop them, or we shall be dashed to pieces." " Sooner said than done, my dears," said Malcolm ; " but sit still, or you will be thrown out, you two silly girls." Beauchamp, occupying the front seat with Blanche, and seeing the boys straining in vain to pull up their horses, shouted out, " Steady^ my lads ; let them go, but hold their heads near together, and sit firm in your seats." To Beau champ's horror, they were now rapidly approaching a broad-wheeled waggon occupying the centre of the road, with its jingling bells, and no appearance of a driver, who was, he concluded, as usual, half asleep inside. Destruction to them all seemed aim Dst inevitable, and he turned deadly pale, when a A CATASTROPHE AVERTED. 391 sudden tliouglifc struck Lim. He liad a new liuiiting-liorn ia the pocket of the carriage, which had been sent home from. Percival's that morning, just before he left Grosvenor Square, which instantly seizing, he sent forth a blast so shrill and loud, that it penetrated the waggoner's dull ear amidst his din of bells, and the heavy vehicle was seen turning slowly aside. Still there seemed scarcely a chance of its giving room to pass before the leaders would be even with its hind wheels, and Beauchamp, fearing the crisis v/as at hand, and telling Malcolm to do the same to Constance, seized Blanche firmly with his right arm round the waist, taking tight hold of the handle 0/ the carriage door with his left. The act was instantaneous, and as they passed the heavy, lumbering machine, the exclama- tion escaped him, *' Thank God ! we are saved." Blanche neither moved nor spoke, overcome by Beauchamp's manner, and the dread of some imminent peril. " Now, my love," he whispered, " we have escajDed the danger, sit firm a few minutes longer, and I will soon stop your fiery bays." They were already beginning to slacken their pace a little, which was evident to Beauchamp*s quick eye, their heads being raised, and their ears becoming erect, when raising his voice he shouted out, " Hold hard ! " In a moment their speed diminished. " Hold hard ! " again cried Beauchamp, " you runaway brutes ! hold hard ! " These words seemed magical. The race was over ; and all four horses stood still. " Let them stand till I get out, my lads," Beauchamp cried. He then folded Blanche in his arms, who burst into tears. " Come, come, my dear girl, it is all over now, and we will have no more galloping to-day." Malcolm, warned by Beauchamp, and following his example, had held Constance tight round the waist as they were passing the waggon, and his face became ghastly pale, with a shudder- ing sensation, as the wheels just grazed each other ; but when the danger was over, his levity quickly returned. " By Jeremy Diddler ! that was an uncommon near shave — just half an inch, and — oh ! my, as Mrs. Winter has it — what an hexpose we should have made — all legs and wings sprawling in the road, like two couf)les of untrussed chickens." " For shame, Charles ! " exclaimed Constance, " to make a joke of such a serious matter, when our lives might have beea lost through your frolic." " Well then, my dear, you and Blanct e can do a little d la Niobe, whilst I and Beauchamp look over the nags." 392 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " Why, Tom, you young villain ! " cried Malcolm, addressing the first lad, who was no other than Lord Henry's late tiger, " how dare you spring them along at that furious rate, frighten- ins: the ladies almost into fits ?" " Couldn't help it, my lord, they would go ; and if master hadn't thought of ' bold hard ! ' they wouldn't 'a stopped till we got to Hounslow." Beauchamp, the while, was patting the horses' necks, and speaking to them in his horse language, which soothed their excited tempers ; and having carefully looked over the harness and carriage, to see there was nothing out of place, he gave orders to the postilions not to break again out of a trot, and resumed his seat by the side of Blanche, who looked very grave, if not ofiended. " Are you angry with me," he asked, *' because the horses ran away ? " " I have been very much frightened, William, by the awful position in which we were placed, and you have shown very little consideration for my feelings, when I entreated you not to allow the horses to go so fast." " I merely thought of giving them a canter against the hill, dear girl, and am fully sensible now of my excessive folly in rousing the spirits of four thorough-bred horses ; but my agony of mind on passing that waggon, words cannot describe. Had an accident occurred, I never could have forgiven myself that boyish freak. Even now, the thought of it makes me shuddei', and it will be a lesson to me as long as I live. I do not ask your forgiveness, Blanche, for I do not deserve it ; " and he turned round, leaning over the front, to order the lads to go slower. Blanche turned also towards the horses, and placing her hand on his arm, said afiectionately, " I am not angry with you, dear William, only I felt hurt at your disregarding my wishes ; but give me your hand, and let us say no more on the subject." "Ay, ay," cried Malcolm, "that's the plan, Blanche; begin with him early, my love, and let him know at once that the grey mare is more than a match for the four bays. Egad ! Beauchamp, I never saw a fellow knock under so quickly as you do ; if Con was to lecture me for a spree of that sort, I would set them going again like mad ; and now, I suppose, seven miles an hour is to be our pace for the remainder of the day." " Not so, Malcolm, when we have posters, of whose running HE PARTY HALTS AT NEWBURY. 593 away ttere is little danger. Katlier, however, than frighten Blanche again, I would be two days on the journey, instead of one ; but if our pace does not suit you, you and Constance can join the governor, and let us have Aunt Gordon." " And not a bad move either, with two such slow coaches as yourself and Blanche," replied Malcolm. " Egad, old fellow ! that girl will soon make a regular Molly Coddle of you ; and as for hunting, riding over five-barred gates and double ditches, after you are married, don't again think of such dangerous exploits; but if my timid little cousin had accepted Danby or Ayrshire, she would have been bowled along thirty miles an hour, TYialgre her tears and entreaties, which they would only have laughed at." " I never would have accepted either, Charles, which you know very well," replied Blanche, indignantly. " Lucky for you you did not, my love, as no one would have suited you but this soft-hearted fellow, Beauchamp, who is ever giving in to your whims and fancies." "And ever will, Malcolm, when they are not unreasonable," added Beauchamp ; " so a truce to further badinage. Blanche shall do as she likes with her own." " And that means you, as well as her horses, old fellow." " Exactly so, Malcolm," was the good-humoured reply, which restored the party to their usual cheerfulness ; and after chang- ing horses at Hounslow, they again set forth on their journey, and halted not on the road until they reached Newbury, where Beauchamp, seeing some beautiful trout, ordered them for an early dinner, and waited for his father and Mrs. Gordon, a stroll being proposed in the meantime. On returning to the inn, after a short walk, they found the venerable earl with his companion, both of whom inflicted a sharp lecture on Beauchamp and Malcolm for leaving them so far behind. " No help for it, governor," said Malcolm ; " those fiery bays of Lady Beauchamp's ran away with us, and very nearly cap- sized the whole lot into a broad-wheeled waggon — just the nearest thing imaginable, half an inch more, and — oh my, what a scrimmage ! " " I will engage, Charles, you had something to do with it," replied Mrs. Gordon. " Just the smallest, littlest finger in the pie only, this time, aunty dear — merely asked Beauchamp to put them out a wee bittie to try their paces, and off we went at Derby speed. 394: THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. * Away, away, oiu- steeds and "we, Upon the pinions of the wind, All human dwellings left behind ; We sped like meteors through the sky,* Until Will Beauchamp raised a cry, And checked our coursers, fast and furious, Which made Miss Douglas look quite curioua.'* " Charles, you are quite incorrigible," exclaimed Mrs. Gor- don ; " always engaged in some mischief or freak, like a school- " Only in a little recreation to-day, dear aunt ; it was very hot, and the ladies wanted fanning, for which I have been already punished by being sent to Coventry by my Lady Beauchamp, who has scarcely spoken to me since this untoward event occurred. But now," ringing the bell, " for these Kennet trout, with which, I suppose, we must order some Kennet ale to wash them down. Dinner, waiter, instanter," as that person appeared. " Yes, sir — my lord — I beg pardon." " Drop my lord, and bring the trout." "Soup, my lord?" " No, sir ; fill the tureen with Kennet ale." " What wines, my lord 1 " "Champagne, hock, hermitage, sauterne, moselle — half-a- dozen of each — quick — presto — begone ! " " Beg pardon, my lord," said the waiter, " but I*m afraid we hav'n't all them wines in the cellar." " Avaunt ! fiend — begone ! " cried Malcolm with a theatrical air. " What ! will you make a younker of me ? — shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked I — Shakespeare — ahem ! " TJie waiter, with a stare of astonishment, instantly dis- appeared from the room, telling the landlady that one of the gentlemen was either mad or a London play actor. " Ha, ha ! " laughed Malcolm's valet, " that's my lord and master, I'll swear; always cracking his jokes with everybody he meets." The trout were quickly placed on the table, with a couple of bottles of champagne and ditto of hock, which being discussed by the hungry party, a cold fore- quarter of lamb succeeded, with a dish of veal cutlets and broiled ham, then pastry of various kinds, to conclude with an old Wiltshire cheese, salad, and Kennet ale, to which the gentlemen did ample justice. "Well, aunty," asked Malcolm, "don't you feel all the A PRACTICAL JOKE. 395 better for this bit of a rQfreslier ? tliat Kennet ale slips clown beautifully, and I feel like the little boy after eating moro than quantum mff. of plum pudding, as if my jacket Avas buttoned." " When will you cease to be a boy, Charles ? " " Never, aunty dear, until I am buckled up, when, according to the old sons:. 'O' ' Needles and pins — needles and pins ; When a man marries, his trouble begins.' Biit, my gracious " (as the waiter brought in a basket of live Cray fish, ordered by Beauchamp), " here's another little present for Lady Beauchamp. Come, my love," to Blanche, "just look at these pretty little creatures, so lively and sportive ; just touch them, my dear, so nice and cool ; " and putting her hand in the basket, she was seized by the finger, which caused more than an exclamation of surprise — on which Malcolm rushed from the room, and did not appear again until the carriages stood at the door. " Has it hurt you much, dear girl % " asked Beauchamp, jumping up from his chair, and running to her rescue. " Oh no, William, it only pinched my fi.nger rather hard." " Beally it is too bad of Malcolm, with such practical jokes " (seeing her finger bleeding), " which I will not put up with." " Pray don't be angry with him, William," she pleaded ; " it was my own fault, for being so silly as to put my hand in the basket." " Now, ladies and gemmen," said Malcolm, peeping in at the door and touching his hat, " time's up, and the coach is awaiting." " Ah, you young scamp ! " shouted the old earl, " I'll double- thong you, when I catch you at Bampton, for serving Blanche that trick." "She wouldn't open her mouth to me, daddy dear, so I wished to know if she had lost her voice ; but she spoke quick enough to the cray fish when he asked her a question. Did he bite very sharp, my love 1 " he inquked, in a pitying tone, of Blanche. " So sharp, Charles, that he made my finger bleed." " Did he indeed, dear girl ? I beg a thousand pardons for niy foolery, as I thought they could only squeeze a little." Malcolm having feelingly expressed contrition for his offenc6| 396 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. which was readily forgiven, their seats were resumed in the carriage as before, until the last stage on the road, where Malcolm and Blanche joined Mrs. Gordon for the Priory, and the old earl drove off, with his son and daughter, to Bampton. CHAPTER XLIX. The following morning, very early, Blanche was in the fiill enjoyment of the flower-garden ; buoyant in spirits, light at heart, and as perfectly happy as it is possible for any human being to be. Soon after breakfast, Beauchamp rode over to see his beloved, with whom he spent the day. How different were his feelings now to the last time he had wandered through the grounds of the Priory, accompanied by Blanche Douglas — then with the feverish, restless anxiety about her first entrance on a new sphere of life, and the dreaded influence of the world on her guileless, unsuspecting mind. The ordeal had now been passed, temptation resisted, and her constancy to him proved beyond doubt or cavil. Beauchamp had cause to be proud of all this. He was not proud, however, but thankful — deeply thankful to that Almighty Power by whose grace and protection she had been preserved from falling into those errors and follies by which so many young girls are influenced. They were sitting now in the old arbour during the heat of the day, Blanche reclining on a rustic chair, whilst these thoughts were passing through Beauchamp's mind. He was silent for a few moments, which she noticed. " Of what are yoia thinking, dear William ? " Still there was no reply. " Will you not tell me," she inquired, " what has caused this sudden thoughtfulness ? Surely, 1 may now share in all your cares, as well as pleasures. Tell me, then, my own dear William, what has made you look so serious." " I was thinking, my dearest girl, of that deep debt of gratitude I owe to God for the ineffable and undeserved happi- ness I now enjoy in having you restored to me again, unaffected and uncontaminated by the world, as when we last sat together here ; and a thought crossed my mind, to pour out my thanka to our merciful Father for this blessing, on this very spot, where we last parted in sorrow and sadness, and now meet mjoy." THE LOVERS EVINCre TBtEIR GRATITUDE. S97 " Your thoughts are mine also, dear William," she replied, rising and placing her hand in his; "let me kneel by your side." Happy they who, like Blanche and Beauchamp, " remember now THEIR Creator in the days of their youth " — who acknow- ledge with thankfulness (despising the sneers and sarcasms of the worldly-minded) that source from which all true blessings flow ; and as they set out to thread this devious earthly path below, keep steadfastly in view the home to which it leads. Who does not join in that prayer of Balaam : " Oh, may I die the death of the righteous, and may my latter end be like his ? " But how few bear in mind that to die the death, they must also live the life of the righteous. Tell men of an Australian land where gold, silver, diamonds, and precious stones abound, even with hard toil and trouble to be acquired ; see the eager- ness with which they listen, the increasing anxiety displayed in searching out every particular concerning this earthly paradise. Tell them of another far better, more glorious land, to which all the countries of the earth are in comparison like a stagnant pool of water to the ocean ; tell them of a city whose walls are built of jasper, and her streets paved with gold ; whose build- ings glitter with rubies, amethysts, and pearls ; tell them of a second Eden, where man shall regain his lost innocence and dignity ; tell them of a newly-created world, in which all animal and vegetable nature shall far surpass in magnitude and magnificence what we behold here below j where God himself shall reign as king, with angels for his ministers ; whence death, and pain, and sorrow are for ever banished, and the lion shall lie down with the lamb — tell them this land, with all its happiness and joys unspeakable, may be, nay, must be theirs, if they .'-eek, as they would the hidden treasures of this, with diligence and care ; — and what will they say in return % " Go thy way for this time ; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." Oh, fools ! with all your worldly wisdom, blind, besotted fools ! who barter a few quickly passing years, with all their short-lived, unsatisfactory pleasures and enjoyments, for eternity ! Aj4 Blanche and Beauchamp were kneeling side by side, pouring ovt their thanks to their Maker, and imploring his protection and blessing through their wedded life, Mrs. Gordon, unperoeived, passed noiselessly by, and the devout aspiration of Jabez escaped her lips : " Oh, that Thou wouldest bless them indeed!" 398 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. A month has passed — it is the 1st of August, a bright and lovely morning. Again are Lord Beauchamp and Blanche kneeling side by side, the latter never more to rise as Blanche Douglas. She is kneeling at the altar, with her hand in his, •whose cherished name she now bears, as the wife of Williani Beauchamp The village church of Bampton is thronged with spectators, r^ch and poor, to witness the double marriage of Beauchamp and his sister. Lord Malcolm looked serious enough during the ceremony ; but his love for teasing Blanche would break forth directly after, when he whispered, "The Gordon knot, my love, is tied at last, which dear aunty has been so long in weaving." " And most thankful am I, Charles, to Heaven," she replied, "and to that do.ar aunt for such a blessing." There was not a vacant pew that morning in Bampton Church. For miles around, the farmers, with their wives and daughters, flocked to the scene, to witness the marriage of their favourite (whom they still persisted in calling "the young squire ") and his sister ; and when the two couples issued from the sacred portals, amid a peal of bells pulled by right vigorous arms, a line was formed by the congregation from the porch to the churchyard gate ; and one long, loud cheer burst forth, as they passed along, from all assembled. A grand breakfast was prepared at Bampton, to which all the neighbouring gentry had been invited, to conclude with a farmers' ball in the evening ; at which some of the higher orders wished to be present also. Neither were the poor for- gotten — tents being erected on the lawn for the whole popula- tion of Bampton parish, with the substantial fare of roast beef and plum pudding, supplied by the two principal innkeepers of the village, to which they sat down at two o'clock. Bustic games and pastimes succeeded, with dancing on the green sward in the evening. The newly-married couples, having changed their bridal attiro for travelling costume, drove off immediately afterwards en route to the North ; Lord Beauchamp and Blanche for Annandale* Castle, and Malcolm and Constance for his seat in Scotland. The bitterness of parting with his only daughter was considerably mollified to the old earl by the promise of their returning at the end of a month or six weeks to spend the winter at Bampr- ton ; and Mrs. Gordon felt too happy in the attainment of ali her wishes, to think so deeply as she otherwise would of the temporary separation from her affectionate niece and newly- HEJOICINGS AT EAMPTOK. 39D aiacJe nephew, both of whom she loved as her own children. Her sister, Lady Malcolm, also, was now staying at the Priory, with Mrs. Fortesciie, who accompanied her from town, where she intended to remain until the first week in September, by which time Beauchamp and Blanche were expected home again. Bob Conyers, with his usual disinterestedness, to prevent his old friend feeling solitary after his children's departure, had invited himself to spend a week at Bampton ; and for the pre- sent there was no lack of guests. Lord Henry Ba^Titun, Sir William Burnet, Gywnne, and Melville having come expressly for the occasion. Fred Beauchamp was there also, who, in hi.s son's absence, was of great service, as well as comfort, to the old earl. Lady Malcolm and Mrs. Gordon, with the gay widow, having been invited to spend the day at Bampton, took a lively interest in all the proceedings in honour of their niece's mar- riage ; and, accompanied by the earl. Bob Conyers, and Fred Beauchamp, visited all the tents in succession at the dinner hour, to see the arrangements made to regale so large a com- pany, and were not less amused than gratified by the cordial meeting between the founder of the feast and some of his aged parishioners. "Ah, squire," said an old man, nearly bent double by years and infirmities, " I never thought as how I should live to see the loike of this, but there — what's the dame want ? " — (as an elderly female whispered in his ear) — " she do say, squire, as I be to call you my lord — but it don't seem natural loike. I've ha' know'd ye as Squire Beauchamp hand) sixty years, and I be used to the name — so doant ye take it ^.miss, as I do love the old squire, and the young un too. God bless un, and prosper un, with that angel. Miss Blanche." " Hark ye. Job," replied the earl, " if you ever dare to ' my lord me,' I shall think you an arrant old hypocrite ; so sit down and go to work with your knife and fork." Mrs. Gordon, who was known to all the neighbouring poor for her benevolent and charitable disposition, was deservedly beloved by them, entering into their joys and sorrows with the most unaffected and truly Christian feeling, and she had ever a kind word to say, as well as a kind look to bestow, on the poor and humble, in addition to more substantial proofs of sym- pathy. In their drives about the country, Mrs. Gordon's and Blanche's visits were not restricted to their rich acquaintances ; »nd in their rambles near home, their footsteps were constantly 400 THJg MASTER OF THE HOinfDS. clireoted to the lowly cottages of tlie poor, to console them ia their afflictions, and minister to their wants. On this occasion, IMark Rosier was appointed master of the ceremonies, to super- intend the whole proceedings and preserve order ; and the office coiild not have devolved on one more zealously affected towards the house of Beauchamp. In fact, since the rescue of Blanche from Lord Vancourt's devices, Mark had become rapidly a man of consequence, and was now under-steward on the Bampton estates, with a salary commensurate with his fidelity and honesty. His father was also once more in a flourishing condition as a farmer. ''Really, Mark," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, "I hardly knew you again ; you look more like a gentleman than a ^" "Poacher, you would have said, my lady," added Mark, good-humouredly ; " but if I have got good clothes on my back now, my dearly-respected lady, Mark Rosier is not the man to forget who put them there." " Indeed, Mark, I meant no unkind reflection on yourself, and rejoice most truly in your good fortune." " Ah, my J^dy ! times are altered to me indeed ; but far beyond all the money, I value the confidence placed in me by my dear young master, who seems to think he can never repay me for a little bit of service I once did, which was nothing particular, after alL" " To us all, Mark, it was a very particular piece of service, for had you not detected that detestable plot, none of us had now been present at these rejoicings, and sorrow instead of hap- piness had filled our hearts. You are well chosen, my faithful friend, to preside on this auspicious occasion, and as long as life is spared us, we shall never forget our gratitude for your gallant conduct." "And mind, Mark," interposed Fred, "these good people don't get tipsy to-night." " Then, Master Ered, you must come and help me keep the tap, as I suspect, whether I will or no — (with a sly wink at Fred) — it'll be a very wet arternoon." "Indeed, I hope not," said Mrs. Gordon; "I should be sorry these poor people were deprived of their day's amusement." " There aint any fear of its being wet overhead, my lady ; but then, you know, it is very hot weather, and there be a num- ber of thirsty souls here to-day. Then there'll be Lord and Lady Beauchamp' s health to drink — Lord and Lady Malcolm's — ^my lord's, in course — and your ladyship's, and a few othei's, FESTIVITIES AT BAMPTON HOUSE. 401 with bumpers all round, and I rayther think some of these good folk will feel werry moist indeed before nightfall." Leaving our happy rustics to the full enjoyment of their festival, which did not terminate until darkness stole over the scene, which, as might be expected, had long previously stolen over the senses of many of the guests, so as to render them ob- livious of time and their road home, we will now transfer our reader to the ball-room at Bampton House, which was crowded to overfloAving with the bold yeomen, their wives and daughters, and a fair sprinkling of gentility. Of the latter were Sir Lionel Markham and family, the Comptons, RoUestons, all the bachelors of the hunt, with ^Ir. and ISIrs. Winterbottom, who had particu- larly begged to be present. The earl opened the ball in a country dance with Islxs. Styles, a fine buxom-looking woman of fifty. The other gentlemen selected partners also among the farmers' wives and dauofhters. this beinoj the rule to be observed in the first dance. Selina Markham seized upon young Hazel for her partner ; and Fred Beauchamp introduced Mrs. Fortescue to the brother of Miss Fairacre, the prettiest girl in the room, whom he had engaged for himself Bob Conyers, undertaking the part of master of the ceremonies, soon pro\dded for all the dancing youngsters by mutual introductions. Captain Markham, who was playing fierce attention to Miss Honoria, voted it 'V, demmed bore" to be pulled nearly ofi" his legs by a strong young damsel, through every couple, down to the bottom of the room. " I say, Fred," he whispered, when left at ease for a few seconds, " I sha'n't have any more of this fun — don't pay, old fellow — just see my Phillis, a full blown peony's a fool to her — demmit ! makes one hot to look at her — heavy in hand as a four-year old. Cut and run, by Jove, Fred." " Can't be done, Markham — orders from head quarters for one dance with the rustics j then please ourselves afterwards. So here we go at it again — cross hands, down the middle and up again," with which the captain was whirled away by his Ama- zonian partner. On crossing hands with his sister, she asked, " Cool and comfortable, Ned, eh 1 " " Demmed uncomfortable, Selina ; but you don't catch me doing drill work of this sort again." Immediately after, his part- ner making a false step, could not recover her equilibrium, and holding the captain tight in hand, dragged him down with her, giving him a rattling fall, Fred and his partner rolling over him. "My gracious!" exclaimed Selina, "the life-guardsman floored at last ! quick, Hazel, pick him up, or he'll be smothered by that Amazon, who is as heavy as a sack of grains. Oh, me 1 z 402 THE MASTEB OP THE HOUNDS. what will Miss Honoria say to her darling captain bein^ smashed in that fashion 1 " Both Hazel and Fred Beauchamp laughed so immoderately as to be incapable of rendering any assistance, for the captain's leg being crooked under him, his ankle was severely sprained, so that he could with difficulty raise himself; but Conyers hastened to assist him, inquiring where he was injured. " Eh ! aw ! Bob, queer about the ankle — pains fearfully ; give me your arm, old fellow ; hobble away to a chair — deuced awkward affair, floored by a woman ! 'pon honour." As the captain limped across the room in search of a seat, Mrs. Winterbottom, pitying his distressed looks, with anguish pictured on his brow, rose from her most comfortable chair, and insisted on his taking possession of it. "Oh, captain dear, this comes o' romping in them nasty country dances ; and there's my Honoria been nearly torn to ^its by that young farmer-chap, whisking and whirling her about till she's not fit to be seen, with her hair all about her face, and her dress rumpled and crumpled as if it had been taken out of a clothes bag ; but here she comes — my gracious ! such a figure, and so 'ot, poor thing." And sure enough. Miss : Honoria's dress and tresses were rather the worse for the rush- ing and crushing she had been obliged to undergo when hauled about by youug Mr. Hardcastle, who was not one of the most graceful in his m.ovements, or very particular about an extra hop or two, whether in or out of time. With the proverbial unselfishness of women, however, Miss Honoria's first inquiring looks were directed to Markham, whose fall she had witnessed. " I fear," she said, " you have been very much injured by that awkward girl's falling ? " " Much better now, thank you," he replied, " pray take my seat," attemjDting to rise, when another sharp twinge made the captain twist again, " Sit still, Captain Markham, I beg and entreat." " 'Pon honour, couldn't perpetrate such rudeness, as to sit still whilst you are standing, Miss Honoria." " Then," she said, " I shall leave you directly, if you make another effort to rise." At this moment the Earl (his daace being finished) came up to inquire about his accident. " Well, Markham, I see how it ; is, and rest is your only remedy — an easy chair here, or in the drawing-room — which do you prefer 1 " " Oh, here, by all means/' was the reply, " as I should like to see the fun out." •rilE LIFEGXJAEDSMAN CONQUERED. 40S In a few minutes a low chair was brought in for the captain's especial use, with a footstool to rest his leg upon, and being engaged to Miss Honoria for the first quacMlle, that young lady, in compassion to his misfortunes, insisted on sitting with him during the dance. Now, on what exact terms it was effected, we are not at liberty to disclose j but certain it is that this little attention of the young lady, coupled with some melting looks from a pair of very beautiful black eyes, so softened the captain's heart, that a declaration of love followed, and crimson cheeks, with do^vn-cast looks, were the only answers retiu'ned, which the cajDtain took as intended. The pressure of her hand, with a few sotto voce whisperings of love and devotion succeeded, with a conclusion more in alto — ■ " Eh ! 'pon honour, how romantic, and all that sort of thing." Selina, who had been casting searching glances towards the happy pair, felt assured, by the young lady's behaviour, that the die was cast. " Here, Bob," she exclaimed to her partner, " that fool, Ned, has fallen into the mash-tub at last, and I'll bet a pony, as Lord Henry says, that Miss Honoria has booked him. My gracious ! what a row there will be, when mamma finds we are to have Mrs. Winter for a mother-in-law." " Any way, my dear, hers is a better name than Hogsflesh, and I know Ned had serious ideas about a young lady of tha:«" name in London, this season, the daughter of a retired soap- boiler. Honoria herself is very well — a pretty, unassuming, well-educated girl j and, I can tell you, a brewery is a very lucrative, safe investment, with large returns, and the business itself quite respectable ; so, on the whole, Ned has decided wisely, and we must put up with the old lady's vulgarities, if indeed she is disposed to trouble us with them, which I very much question." " Ah ! Bob, you are ever making the best of things." " And so, my dear, I hope you also, for the future, will look always on the sunny side, which is the wisest thing to do." CHAPTER L. We must now turn om' attention to Mrs. Fortescue and Fred Beauchamp, who were loungiag (the latter at least) through a quadrille. " Wliat do you think," he wap asking her, " of our country practices at a wedding ? our rustic garouaa »x>A ^Iimicgs 1 " e 2 404 IHE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. " To nie," she replied, " everything I have witnessed to-day has been most delightful. The dear old earl's unajQfected, almost parental kindness to his poor neighbours, and their joyous looks, beaming with gratitude, in return, awaken kindred feelings in my own heart, and recall the associations of my earlier years, when I was a country girl. Happy are they, indeed (if they could estimate truly that happiness), who live a country life, far removed from the bustle and turmoil of the city J and I can tvulj say — * From the court to the cottage convey me away, For I'm Aveaiy of grandeur and what they call gay, "Where pride without measure, And pomp without pleasure, Make hfe in a circle of hurry decay.' Fm tired to death of London dust and smoke — I have never seen a more united family than yours appears to be ; and really have serious thoughts of taking some place in the neighbour- hood, to be near your excellent uncle, with whom I confess to have fallen desperately in love." " Well, then," said Fred, lowering his voice, " as you cannot be the earl's wife, will it content you to be his niece ? " For a moment she gazed steadfastly on her partner's face ; and in the serious look which met her- inquiring eyes, she read his meaning, but made no response. " Have I offended you," he asked, in a quiet, subdued tone, ** by my abrupt question 1 " ^' No," she replied, as the colour rose to her very brow j " I "will not pretend to misunderstand you, but " " Stay one moment, ere you pronounce my doom," he said, earnestly. " Remember your promise at Almack's, which I have pondered on ever since — how fondly and fatally, none will ever know ; for I see my fate hangs on a thread, which one more word will sever. Oh, speak it not," he added ; " and for- give my presumption in having ventured thus far." " Frederick," she said, gently, " I will sjDare your feelings as much as I can, in justice to my own ; but you must not misunderstand either my sentiments or my words. I like you as a friend and companion ; but our acquaintance has been of very recent date, and I must see and know more of you before I could entrust my happiness to your keeping." " Then you will not at once discard me, as I dreaded," he murmured, passionately. " A thousand thanks for that conces- sion. I ask no more. I am now content." THE SUPPER AT BAMPTON HOUSE. 405 " Thus let it be, tlien," slie added. " But mind you are not too sanguine in your liopes — I see the Earl approaching." " Well, IMrs. Fortescue," he inquired, " what do you think of our country lasses 1 " "Indeed," she replied, "many of them are exceedingly pretty, genteel-looking girls ; and so nicely dressed, with their hair arranged quite ct la mode, that I should have thought some London milliner and hair-dresser had been engaged preparing them for the occasion." " Oh ! " he exclaimed, " you are not far from the truth, as Blanche and Constance's maids have been giving them some lessons on these matters, to set them off to the best advantage ; but still, there is a natural gracefulness about some which art cannot much improve — for instance, Fred's first partner, Miss Fairacre,- who might pass muster even at Almack's — a crafty young scamp he is — always picking out the prettiest girl in the room. Take care of him, Mrs. Fortescue — he is a dangerous fellow, with those glossy curls — but not a bad boy at heart — (patting him on the back) — and I don't know what I could well do without him, sometimes. "Well, Fred," addressing him, " I conclude you will be following Will's example pretty soon ; and, mind, when you can find one like Blanche, in heart and disposition — fond of the country, and likely to make me a duti- ful, affectionate niece, you shall have the Grange, and all the appurtenances belonging thereto, for your home, and something, in addition to your own property, to help to keep house — on these conditions, you may marry ^vith my consent, but I don't intend to trust you out of the parish." "Many thanks, my dear uncle, for your generous offer. You have ever been to me as a father, and I hope never to be far distant from dear old Bampton, where I have spent so many happy years." " It will be your own fault if you are, my boy — and don't forget your duties to-night, in seeing that our guests are well cared for." " No fear of that, uncle. Bob and myself don't intend to be idle." Neither were they, either before, at, or after supper. At twelve precisely, the large dining-room and library, joined together by wide folding doors, were thrown open, disi^laying a long table, reaching do-s\Ti the centre, and two cross tables at each end, on which a profusion of good things was spread out, with wines of every description ; and it were needless to remark that, the evening being very sultry, Conyers and Fred caused 406 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. the cliampagne corks to pop about like irregular musket dis* charges of infantry. The company had fully discussed the merits of the good things provided for them, when Bob Conyers, as Yice-Chairman, proposed the toast of the evening in a short, appropriate speech : — " Health and happiness to the two newly- married couples ! " which was received with deafening cheers, lasting for several minutes ; and as they were dying away, the stentorian voice of Farmer Stiles was heard : " Now, gentlemen, one cheer more, as you love him, for the young squire ; and may God bless them both." The shout which answered this short address may be ima- gined, and the Earl, seeing the ladies almost overpowered by the thunder of voices, rose to return thanks, which stilled immediately the raging storm into breathless silence. The short, energetic speech of the old peer again elicited rounds of applause, although more subdued, from a liint passed up the long table by Conyers. "The Ladies'," and "The Earl's" health then followed in quick succession, after which dancing recommenced, and continued with unabated strength and reso- lution until four o'clock in the morning. With the termination of these festivities and the departure of his guests from Bampton, the Earl relapsed into his usual quiet habits ; but as Fred spent the greater part of his time at the Priory, often dining there, the loss of his children's society, and the solitary fireside in the evening, began to pro- duce the effects which might have been expected upon one whose chief happiness depended on domestic ties and cheerful faces around his table. Fred, noticing his uncle's low spirits, induced him to ride over occasionally to the Priory, where his usual cheerfulness returned, and it was about tln^ee weeks after his children's marriage, that when walking with Mrs. Gordon through her grounds, he surprised that lady by suddenly saying, "My dear Mrs. Gordon, it is no use my attempting to conceal the matter any longer; but the fact is, that I have become so melancholy and feel so lonely in that large house since Will and Con have left me, that I must either come and live at the Priory, or jou must come, in pity to my forlorn situation, and live at Bampton." Mrs. Gordon, scarcely knowing whether the Earl was Serious, or only in one of his joking humours, attempted to rally him for giving way to despondency on account of his children's short absence — but in vain. He assured her that his proposition had been well considered, and although now past tha acta for romantic passion^ he bad long entevtaiued THE earl's proposal TO MTRS. GORDON. 40t towards Ler the deepest regard and affection. " In short, my dear madam," he added, ^' your interest in my children is almost as deep as my own ; and in return they regard you as their mother. What a joyful surprise it would be to them all, to find their hopes realised on their return home ! " "My dear friend," rejDlied Mrs. Gordon, "your proposition has come so unexpectedly upon me, that I must have time for reflection before I can give you a decisive answer ; but, believe me, I am not insensible to your many excellent qualities of heart and disposition." Fred Beauchamp and the gay widow apjDroaching, put a stop to the further efforts of the Earl in pressing his suit, and he had only time to entreat she would write him a favoui-able reply in a day or two, as his future happiness was now dependent on her consent. JMi's. Gordon, uninfluenced by worldly considerations or ambitious views, felt sorely perplexed by the Earl's proposal. She was perfectly satisfied with her own position, and the thoughts of leaving her happy home, with every comfort and all her pets around her, produced such painful sensations, that she had nearly resolved on writing a refusal, although couched in the most friendlv lan^uaoje, with coo^ent reasons for declinino: the honour he intended conferring upon her ; when Lady Mal- colm, observing her sister's unusual abstraction of thought and nervous manner, at last drew the secret from her, and the con- fession of the distressing situation in which she felt placed by being compelled to give pain to one she so highly respected, with the dread of that coolness which would naturally arise to destroy the harmony which had hitherto existed between the two families. " My dear Margaret," continued Lady Malcolm, " you have not advanced one single reasonable excuse for your purposed rejection of the dear old Earl, to whom, I am convinced, you are much more deeply attached than you like to confess to me ; in fact, I have long observed, since his visit to me in London, your evident partiality for each other. There is no necessity for giving up the Priory or your pets ; but even if such a sacri- fice were required, I should not hesitate in resigning all, rather than give up your oldest and dearest friend. Indeed, my dear sister, I am only surprised you could have hesitated for one moment to accept the Earl's offer, independently of the great pleasure it will afford those dear girls, Blanche and Constance, as well as myself. There will be times, of course, when Charles Rnd WiUiam must be absent from this part of the country, 408 THE MASTER OF THE ItiOUimS. leaving the Earl and yourself two solitary beings, in two old, solitary houses ; so, my dear sister, putting feeling out of the question, the most prudent step you can possibly adopt is to marry the Earl, and you will then be a mutual comfort to each other in your decHning years. Moreover, I know Charles would be only too glad to live at the Priory during five or six months of the year, if you will allow him, and you can depend on Constance keeping everything precisely in the same order as at present.'* Mrs. Gordon, thinking her sister had spoken very sensibly on this subject, without alluding to rank or worldly advantages, thanked her for her good advice, which she agreed to follow, and a neatly- written little note was, in accordance therewith, dispatched the next day to Bampton, which brought the Earl to the Priory within an hour of its delivery, in high spirits. To those interested in love scenes between the youthful and ardent, the meeting of these two old friends, on this important matter, might appear too tame and sedate to be rehearsed ; we will, therefore, pass it over suh silentio, and merely relate the result, that in a fortnight from that day, the Earl and Mrs. Gordon underwent the ceremony of being joined together in holy matrimony at the altar in Bampton Church, none, save Lady Malcolm, Mrs. Fortescue, Fred Beauchamp, and Conyers being present, and returned afterwards to Bampton House as if nothing extraordinary had happened, where Aunt Gordon assumed her new dignity of Countess of Annandale, "wdthout in any way changing her habitual cheerfulness and suavity of temper. There was not one of the old domestics in the Earl's establishment (old servants being generally extremely captious and impassive of innovat ions in their departments) who did not receive with unfeigned pleasure their new mistress, whose kind- ness of heart and generous disposition were so well known to all her inferiors. Lady Malcolm and Mrs. Fortescue returned the same day to London for a short time, promising to be at Bampton again the second week in September. The news of the Earl's marriage with Mrs. Gordon caused very little surprise in the neighbourhood ; the general opinion being the reverse of that so often pronounced on elderly persons ** making fools of themselves." Here it was admitted to be ** the wisest thing they could have done," by all save our not over-esteemed friend, Mrs. Harcourt, who was of course pre- pared with an ill-natured speech for the occasion, envenomed, no doubt, by the consideration of her quondam opponent taking precedence of her in all their country parties. Blanche's sueprise. 409 **Only think," slie observed to lier Imsband, " of Mrs. Gordon imposing upon tliat silly old man, and playing her cards so cleverly as to become a Countess ? What extraordinary tact some widows have in match-making for themselves as well as others." " Well, my dear, I do not blame her for making so good a bargain, although I have long suspected this event would take place sooner or later ; and, in my opinion, the Earl has made a most judicious selection/' " Oh, yes, of course," retorted the lady; " the Bampton squire can do no wrong since his elevation to the peerage." Mrs. Gordon had immediately, on accepting the Earl, written to apprise Blanche of her contemplated change of name, and on reading her aunt's letter, she exclaimed, " Oh, William ! what do you think has occurred during our short absence from home 1 " "Something, my darling, of a joyous nature, I can gather from your sparkling eyes. Perha^DS Bob is married ? '* "No, not yet." " The widow has accepted Fred ? " " No, dear William ; guess again." " Then the governor has popped the question to aunty ? " " Oh, William," she said, demurely, " how could you fancy such a thing 1 " " Because, my love, I have fancied it for some five or six months past, and was quite convinced it must soon happen." " You were a true prophet. Master Will. Dear aunty will soon be in name what she has ever been in love and affection to us both — a mother." " My own dear girl," said Beauchamp, catching her in his arms, " this is indeed delightful intelligence ; for I often think with pain how melancholy my dear father must feel without his children, and we cannot now be always with him." " And why can we not, dear William 1 " " Because, my love, he thinks we ought to spend a certain portion of the year at the Castle, and he is too wedded to Bampton ever to leave it." " Indeed," she said, " this is a very delightful place, but I confess my feelings, like his, are influenced by earlier and dearer associations; Bampton and Beauchamp are both hal- lowed names to me." " Ah ! you naughty child, since you have become Lady Beauchamp ; but now, Blanche, seriously, we must proceed on our journey to visit your Scotch dominions, where I intend 410 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. committing liavoc amongst the grouse, and send a supply to our friends in England, that is, supposing you will allow me to be absent a few hours occasionally from your presence 1 *' " Well, I suppose, for such a purpose, I may dispense with your attendance sometimes ; so now to answer aunty's letter, and I am then at your commands to set out en route for my fatherland." By the 1st of September, Malcolm and Constance had engaged to spend a week with Beauchamp and liis bride at Annandale Castle (before returning to Bampton), which they reached the 31st of August, in time for the first day of part- ridge shooting ; and as usual, Malcolm began joking Blanche after dinner. "Well, my love, how many quarrels have you had with Beauchamp since this day month 1 " " None at all, Charles, nor likely to have any, I hope." « Ton honour, Blanche— eh 1 " " Quite true, Charles." " Oh ! I see — Beauchamp gave in at once, poor fellow ! anything for a quiet life — always was that sort of man — couldn't stand that little temper of yours, my dear — so knocked under without striking a blow — henpecked husband, and all that sort of thing." " And pray, Charles, how did you fare with Constance ? " " All one way, my love — turned the bonnet-box out of window at starting — fought like cat and dog for a week, till she saw I would keep the upper hand, and now we go on swim- mii:igly together, like the two old swans in the lake yonder. She know's who's master now — don't you, Con 1 " appealing to his vife. "Yes, Charles," she replied, laughing, "I rather think I do," with a significant smile at her sister-in-law. "Well," remarked Malcolm, "this boxing up of two in- dividuals in a travelling carriage, for I know not how long, is all very well once in a man's life, and one degree better than solitary confinement in a prison — but, by Jove, Beauchamp, tcte-a-tete breakfasts, with ditto dinners, don't suit my humour at all ; so now I intend letting loose to-night — try every mne in the cellar, and finish ofi" with a bottle of port per head. It's no use, my dears, sending to announce cofiee, so go to your rooms when you please. We intend to have a jolly evening, and stagger up-stairs about one o'clock in the morning." " You will do nothing of the kind, Charley dear," replied Blanche j " at least I am siire William will not." i BLANCHE AND CONSTANCE IN THE NORTH. 411 '* But lie wil], my love, and I'll back him up to assert his rights and supremacy, in defiance of petticoat government. Oh ! la ! how funny ! my Lord Beauchamp carried up-stairs roaring drunk, and my Lady Beauchamp in hysterics." " My dear Charles, how silly you still are ! " " Yes, my love — and always hope to be ; so now pass the bottle, and I'll give a toast — bumpers round — ' May we never feel less happy than now ! ' " CHAPTER LL Whilst Beauchamp and Malcolm were walking over stubbles and turnips in search of partridges, Blanche and Constance were walking through the village, renewing tlieir acquaintance with their poor neighbours ; and many a silent blessing was invoked by the aged and infirm, the fatherless and widow, on the heads of those two sisters of charity, as they entered their humble cottages. Blanche and Beauchamp had resolved on devoting a large portion of their income to ameliorate the condition of the dependents on their extensive properties ; and in place of the wretched hovels and small tenements, the general habitations of the poor, new cottages were to be erected, on a plan drawn by themselves, which allowed of two good-sized front-rooms on the gi'ound floor, with bakehouse, back-kitchen, &c., and a quarter of an acre of land to each cottage. ISTew school- rooms, where wanted, were also to be provided — clothing clubs estab- lished in every village and hamlet on their estates, with a large subscription by themselves, and, in addition to Lord Beau- champ's name standing at the head of each club or benefit society, weekly provision was made by himself and Blanche for all vv'idows, orphans, and those past labouring for their o^vn support ; so that of each it might be said in the words of Job, " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me ; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me : because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him." The management of the whole property in the north, around and belonging to the Castle, was entrusted by the Earl to his ion, who woiUd admit of no iaterventioa between the teniinta 412 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. and himself, in tlie shape of a lawyer agent ; in place of whom the best practical farmer in each district was appointed by him as an arbitrator in any trivial cases of dispute, and deputed to send him statements of any improvements required, in buildings or drainages on the farms ; but when staying at the Castle applications were to be made to Lord Beauchamp, personally, on all matters of this kind, by the tenants themselves j thus the friendly relations, which ought ever to exist between the owner and cultivators of the soil, were established to the mutual benefit of both. However high in rank any landlord may be, whether duke, marquis, or earl, he may rest assured that it is most unques- tionably his interest, if not his duty, to hold the supreme authority over his property in his own hands, and not subject his tenants to be domineered over, and his lands deteriorated, by the pretended supervision of a lawyer agent, totally ignorant of all agricultural business, and who is paid a handsome per centage for merely collecting the rents, writing a few letters, or occasionally copying out some lease or agreement, framed by men of greater experience than himself JSTo man can be safely employed as land agent, who is not thoroughly and practically acquainted with the management and cultivation of land. After spending a fortnight at Annandale Castle, the two thoroughly happy couples set out on their return to Bampton, where they were received with open arms and warm embraces by the Earl and his Countess. After these greetings had passed, Malcolm's habitual love of fan broke forth. "Well, I fear I shall now become like the donkey who had two mammas." " In what respect Charles ? " asked Blanche. " Why, he became a very great donkey indeed, my love." " Oh, that you have ever been, Charles, since I have had the honour of your acquaintance." ^' I tell you what it is, aunt, or mamma — whichever you choose to be called — that spoilt pet of yours has become so exceedingly gumptious since her promotion as Lady Beauchamp, that she rules the whole roast — will have her own way in everything ; and as for her husband, poor fellow — oh ! me — as Mrs. Winter says — she treats him like a dog ; in short, it is a most fortunate thing for him to get her back to Bampton, where I hope you will now keep her in proper order once more." " Yery well, Charles," replied his aunt, *' then I will take her to her room, and be^in my first lecture." BAMPTON HOUSE ONCS MORE, 413 It were almost superfluous to relate the joy of the Countess on hearing from her ovm. lips the confession of Blanche's haj)piness in her union with Beauchamp. " Then I have not over-rated him, my own dearest child 1 " " Oh, no, dear aunt — he is so kind, so affectionate, so anxious about me, that I love him, if possible, more every day." " Thank heaven for this blessing, my darling girl," exclaimed her aunt, pressing Blanche to her heart. " Indeed, I do," she replied, " every hour in the day." "And Constance, my love," turning to her, "I read in your happy smiles that Charles also makes you a good husband." " Yes, dear aunt ; he is everything I could desire." The family-party at the dinner-table that evening was the most joyous that can be imagined, all being in the highest spirits from their happy re-union ; but Malcolm's mirth, as usual, was most boisterous. The next day, Bob Conyers and Selina rode over to congratulate their friends on returning to Bampton ; and the latter, remarking on Blanche's improved looks and vivacity of spirits, said, " Why, my dear girl, I was beginning to think matrimony a very lugubrious affair, and have put off that httle ceremony with Bob as long as possible ; but, really, ray dear, whether from change of air or change of name. Lady Beauchamp beats Blanche Douglas hollow, with those sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks, which I never saw so brilliant before." " Oh, Selina, I know what flattery from you means — ^but, as long as William is satisfied with my looks, I do not regard the opinions of others." " Indeed, my dearest Blanche, I am perfectly serious and sincere j for I never saw a girl so improved as you are since your marriage." " Then, mj dear Selina," said Bob, " the sooner you follow her example the better — so let us name this day fortnight, and I am sure all our friends here, old and young, will come over to see the last of the old bachelor, Bob Conyers." All joyfully accepting this invitation, Sehna added, " You must ask mamma this question. Bob — the firsty I answered for myself" This point having been referred, accordingly, to Lady Markham, she raised no objection ; being, like some other mammas, of opinion that the maiTiage of their eldest daughter opens the path of the other junior sisters to the hjTneneal altar. Sir Lionel gave a grand breakfast on the occasion, which was attended by nearly all the neighbouring families, including 4l4:' iHE MASl'ER OF THE HOUNDS. a large party from Bampton, now augmented by the arrival of Lady Malcolm and Mrs. Fortescne. Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt were invited also ; and, although with a bad grace, they deemed it a good opjiortunity for renewing that intimacy with their neighbours which the revelations made at the late trial had somewhat discomposed. Having left tlieir cards at Bampton since their ward's return, the meeting between aunt and aunt was less cat-like than heretofore ; and that between aunt and niece, apparently, rather affectionate. IMr. Harcourt, perhaj^s more sinned against than sinning in the Marston Castle plot, and dcA^oid of the acrimonious feeling still entertained by his wife against Lord Beauchamp, shook him most cordially by the hand, congratu- lating him upon Blanche's improved looks and more cheerful manner. In fact, the change in Lady Beauchamp struck every one of her old acquaintance as most extraordinary. But was there not a cause ? She had exchanged the harassing anxieties of the last twelve months for peace and security of mind, and, when leaning on her husband's arm, looked the personification of happiness and contentment j and the soft, confiding smile directed to Beauchamp' s face said, in plain language, " With him I have found a haven and a rest." Lord Mervyn had, long before the trial, left Marston Castle for Paris, where he was to be joined by his son-in-law, Vernon, and his young wife, to pass the winter. The shock inflicted on Vernon's frame (never very strong) caused great misgivings in his physician's mind as to his entire re-establishment in health ever again ; and a warmer climate being recommended, he was to pass the intermediate time in Italy, before joining his father-in-law at Paris. The marriage ceremony between the Captain and Miss Honoria was, by the particular desire of Mrs. Winterbottom, solemnised at St. Q-eorge's Chapel, followed by a long account of the loveliness of the bride and her bridesmaids, &c., the next day, in the Morning Post ; and a dejeuner provided on a large scale from Gunter's, for their London friends and con- nections, at their o^vn house in Bryanston Square, which had undergone new decorations for the brewer and his wife, who both, after a fair trial, found a country life not at all to their taste, and the reverse of what they expected — the lady com j)lain- ing of being shut up, during the winter months, like an owl in a barn, without a neighbour dropping in once a month. In short, Mr. Winterbottom bad committed an egregious mistake by purchasing landed property in a locality siu-rnuuded by old, i tHE FIRST OF NOVEMBER. 415 Btiff-necked families, who would not visit his vulgar wife ; and Bhe felt most acutely the change (having no resources in herself) from the gossip and prattle of London to the dull monotony ol a country life. At last she told her husband — to use her own expression — " she wouldn't put up, no longer, with the hoity- toity au's of these proud dames." The country house, therefore, was handed over to the young couple, with the reservation of spending a month there in the summer, and a week or two at Christmas. The young "svddow, after another month's deliberation, accepted Fred Beauchamp, Vt^ith the Grange, who being of a domestic turn and good temper, rather surpassed her expectations from his a^oparently thoughtless demeanour, which really j^ro- ceeded from good humour and cheerfulness of disposition. * * * * The 1st of November has again arrived; again is the breakfast-table at Bampton House thronged with guests in hunting costume. Sir Francis Burnett, Gwynne, with every member of the hunt, are there, in compliment to the Earl and his son, on their opening day, and a greater assemblage of farmers than ever before attended the lawn meet. Sir Francis whispered Beauchamp, " So, my boy, you have changed your opinion about the heiress since this time twelvemonth 1 " " No, Sir Francis, of her I have ever entertained one and the same opinion ; but I have followed your advice in dis- regarding that of the world." " Bight, my boy, quite right ; the world and his wife have nothing to do with you and your wife." After breakfast, the Ladies Beauchamp and Malcolm were vaulted into their saddles by their respective lords, to see the hounds thrown into covert, attended by a large party of gentle- men — the Earl taking charge of his daughter-in-law when Beauchamp began drawing for a fox. The horse provided for Blanche was such as a child could ride, of the most gentle and docile disposition, although quite thorough-bred, and a perfect hunter ; yet withal, Beauchamp, disliking to see ladies riding over fences, and in dread of any accident occurring to his beloved wife, had exacted a promise from her to return home with the groom as soon as the hounds should leave Park Wood. Selina Conyers, in no wise sobered by marriage, ridiculed Beauchamp for his timidity about Blanche, to as much purpose as heretofore ; and Blanche, wishing Selina a good day's sport and a safe return to Bampton, turned her horse's head homewards. The Park Wood foxes, bein^ nroverbially stout, and Jong 416 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNl)S. travellers, almost invariably afforded capital runs, and although so early in the season, the one selected on this day had resolved to maintain the reputation of his family, although at the cost of his life, being pulled dovm in the open after an hour and fifty minutes. With blind ditches and close weather, every horse had quite or more than sufficient work to keep anywhere near the j^ack with their first fox, without requiring a second ; and their riders, being in this case disposed to let well alone, did not express dissent to the order — home. The dinner party at Bampton in the evening was on a large scale, about thirty sitting down to table ; the Countess (late Mrs. Gordon) performing her part in the entertainment with her usual affability, sui)ported by her two pets, Blanche and Constance, who won golden ojDinions from all their guests by their unaffected manners and cheerful good humour. After the ladies had retired, Bob Conyers gave the toast usual on such occasions — " Fox-hunting and the Master of the Hounds " — which was received with general applause. *' Gentlemen," said Conyers, rising, after silence had suc- ceeded, " there is one toast more I must be allowed to propose on this most auspicious day, which I am quite sure will be received with enthusiasm — ' The Countess of Annandale, and the Ladies Beauchamp and Malcolm.' " "Hurrah!" shouted GwjTine, springing to his legs, "a double bumper to them — they are the right sort. Bob, like the Park Wood foxes, and endeavour to combine the pleasures of *The Field and the Fireside.' " " And now," continued Conyers, when the cheers had sub- sided, " our labours of love having been brought to a happy ter- mination, I will wind up, on behalf of the newly made Ben<>- diets, in the words of Cotton : — ' Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers, We, who improve his golden hours, By sweet experience know That marriage, rightly understood, Gives to the tender and the good A paradise below.' " THE END. 20-^6—79 PEINT3D BY W, H. SJP.TH & SON, 186, SliULND, MNUOtt. g- CG THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/5 VOLS. Can Yon Forgive Her ? By Anthony Trollope. "Mr. Trollope's last work may perhaps be a favourite with its author, for he tells us that he has had the story of it before his mind for many years, and that he has decided that the question asked in the title, ' Can You Forgive Her ? ' ought to be answered in the affirmative. The lady about whose forgiveness the public is thus questioned, is a Miss Vavasor, and the offence for which pardon is needed is the heinous one of having been foolish enough to jilt a very estimable, though some- what too perfect, gentleman. (120) The DaltonS. By Charles Lever. "This work contains scenes from the late Italian campaign, and from Mr. Lever's well known talent for depicting stirring scenes and faithful portraiture of character, it is needless for us to say much. The author of 'Charles O'Malley,' 'Harry Lorrequer,' etc., is too well known to require recommendation. We have no doubt the work will be well received." — Derby Reporter. (20) Tom Burke of " Ours." By Charles Lever. " No more dashing pictures than *Tom Rurke,' ' Harry Lorrequer,' and ' Charles O'Malley,' were ever painted. They glow with ani- mation ; you forget you are looking on canvas, and feel sure you see the iigures move, and speak, and act. To describe these tales in a sentence, they 2LXQfidl of life. These works at once placed the author in the fore- rank of writers of fiction." (28) Roland CasheL By Charles Lever. " Mr. Lever is the prince of ' Neck-or-Nothing ' novelists ! "We used to think that for intrepidity in clearing the hedges and ditches, — the boundaries and gaps, — of a story, there was no one like poor Captain Marryat : but, of the two, Mr. Lever has the easier seat, and more adroit bridle hand. Little can those who have run through the numbers of ' Roland Cashel ' before us, divine what manner of headlong leaps and frantic gallops they may be compelled to take, ere they come in at the 'death' of the plot, and (let us hope) the marriage of the hero." — Athenceum. (33) (29) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/6 VOLS. Liiidisfarn Chass. By t. a. Troiiope, Author of "Beppo, the Conscrip... ' " The lovers of fictional literature will be glad to find that Messrs. Chapman and Hall have issued ' cheap editions ' of the works of i homas A. Troiiope, a writer who has the tact of always sustaining the interest of his readers, and the experiences of a ' L ndisfarn Chase,' and ' Beppo, the Conscript ' are among the most popular works of this author. They are full of incident, and written with the pen of a man who is a keen observer of character and an excellent story- teller." (87) The Knight of Gwynne. B7 Charles Lever. "The 'Knight of Gwynne' is certainly one of the most lovable characters tliat Mr. Lever has ever drawn ; and he monopolises so much of our sympathy, that we hope to be forgiven for extending less of it than he probably deserves to Bagenal Daly, notwithstanding the vigour with which that character is drawn, the remarkable originality of it, and the fidelity with which it represents and sustains a most pe- culiar combination of qualities, intellectual as well as moral." — Black- wood's Magazine. (23) The Eustace Dianionds. By Anthony Troiiope. " Mr. Troiiope has these merits nearly always at his comn-iand. He has a true artist's idea of tone, of colour, of harmony ; his pictures are one ; are seldom out of drawing ; he never strains after effect ; is fidelity itself in expressing English lie; is never guilty of caricature. . . . . We remember the many hours that have passed smoothly by, as, with feet on the fender, we have followed heroine after heroine of his from the dawn of her love to its happy or disastrous close, and one is astounded at one's own ingratitude in writing a word against a succession of tales that 'give delight and hurt not.'" — Fortnightly Reviexv. (243) The Prime Minister. By Anthony Troiiope. " 'The Prime Minister' is a novel that will be greatly enjoyed by people who can take an interest in its public personages, and who ap- preciate clever studies of political character." — The Times. (362) (30) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/- VOLS. Colonel Dacre. By the Author of '' Caste," " Pearl," " Bruna's Revenge," etc. "There is much thit is attractive both in Colonel Dacre and toe simple-hearted girl whom he honours with his love." — AtlieiueiDii. " Colonel Dacre is a gentleman throughout, which character is somewhat rare in modern no vjIs." — Fall Alall Gazette. (275) Leyton Hall, and othor Talcs. By Mark Liemon. "These volumes are full of niterest, humour and pathos. They are sure to be popular." — S'ar. "We commend 'Leyton Hall' most heartilv. The story is an extremely good one, and the shorter tales are all of a very effective character." — Illustrated News. {325) Heart and Crocs. By Mrs. ouphant. " A delightful work. The intercept is preserved from the opening to the closing page." — Post. (323) The Laddies of LcvBl-Ijei^h. By the Author of " Lords and Ladies." " The author of this interesting tale has not now for the first time proved to the world her extraordi ary power in delineting the affections. The lesson is one of impressive force." — Daily Neius. " A very pleasant novel." — Press. (295) The Bertrams. By Anthony TroUope. " ' The Bertrams ' are two brothers and a son of the younger. The latter, the hero of the story, is as agreeable a hero as any we have met for some time, being neither of the morbid, nor of the 'musculnr Christian ' kind. The elder Bertram is a miser who has amassed half a million of money. He is hard, shrewd, and cynical, but not without affection for his nephew, whom he describes contemptuously, but with some truth, as liaving 'a good heart and,' in spite of a double-lirst, 'a bad head.' The hero's father is one of the be.st drawn characters in the bot k. On the whole, we cannot say more of 'The Bertrams,' than that it is one of the best novels of the season." — Daily A>rc'j-. (100) Misrepresentation. By Anna ii. nmry. " This book is full of genius, and contans many strikingly beautiful passages. It well deserves to find readers. Those who begin it will certainly feel inclined to finish it." (345) (27) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/- VOLS. My Heart's in the Highlands. By Miss Grant. ** In the splendid collection of novels embraced in the Select Library of Fiction is a new edition of Miss Grant's very successful novel, ' My Heart's in the Highlands.' The scene is laid principally in that attractive part of the British Empire known as the Scottish Highlands, and with the principal action of the book the author has interwoven a gi-eat mass of interesting material on the sports and pastimes of the good people who hurry off to spend the autumn in the cool glens and by the sparkling streams of the northern counties of Scotland. The plot is not very striking, but ample recompense for any deficiency in this direction is found in the startling nature of some of the situations, and the racy pictures of modem men and manners." (381) Maurice Tiernay: the Soldier of Fortune. By Charles Lever. "These are days in which the public should furnish their libraries, if they ever intend to do so. Who would be satisfied with the loan of the much-thumbed library book, when for two shillings he can procure, in one handsome volume, a celebrated work of fiction which often is seen swelling three books ? This sprightly and original novel is now offered at the low price of two shillings." (54) Sunshine and SnO^W. By Hawley smart, Author of " Two Kisses," "Broken Bonds," " Bound to Win," etc. "On the w^hole we think that this is an improvement on some of the author's later novels. Mr. Hawley Smart, too, has broken new ground by taking Jim Hawksbury, his principal male character, to Canada, as aide-de-camp to the Commander-in-Chief. That gentleman and his " chum," Cherriton, known among his intimates as " the Chirper," are amusing specimens of the young British officer of a certain class, brave, honourable, and good-natured, but somewhat slangy and "horsey" in their talk, which savours more of the stable and the smoking-room than is altogether pleasant or desirable. But by far the best character in the book is Lydon, an artist, whom Hawksbury asks to dinner, and whom " the Chirper" helps him to entertain." — The Standard. (382) Condoned : a Novel. By Anna c. steeie, Author of " Broken Toys." "The publishers of the Select Library of Fiction are doing good service to light literature by reprinting in a cheap and neat form the works of our best novelists. ' Condoned,^ is one of the latest additions to the series, and is a creditable contribution to it as a romance, and as a handy, well-printed, and nicely bound book." — Msh Times. (360) (28) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/- VOLS. HumoronS Stories. By James Payn. 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" It is told skilfully, and is fresh, dashing, and interesting." — British Quarterly. "One of the most agreeable things Mr. Kingsley has written." — Satw^day Review. (i99) Our Detachment. By Katherlne King, Author of ' ' The Queen of the Regiment, " "This new production of an authoress who has already attained the highest reputation from those who have a love for the best kinds of reading will add to her fame, and we recommend ' Our Detachment ' as a vigorous novel that ought to be on every drawing-room table. The characters are most artistically drawn, the language is full of graphic power and pathos. The plot is a charming one, exquisitely told, and every page is conspicuous for taste and literary culture." — Court Journal. (355) (21) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/- VOLS. Charlie Thornhill. By ciianes ciarke. "'Charlie Thornhill ' is obviously the work of a man who is a classical scholar, not from pedantry, but from real love of the thing, and who has had plenty of that experience which we understand by the expression 'seeing the world.' He is quite at home in the drawing- room, and can make an Englisli lady look and speak like an English lady. He can send his heronie to see the hounds ' tlirow off' without making her talk like a horse-dealer and ride like a fiend. Though she does 'come to grief,' which for stage purposes is inevitable, the catastro])he is neither indecent nor improbable." — T/ie Times. {67) Father Godfrey. By the Author of "Anne Dysart." "A well-written story. Godfrey's character is finely-drawn." — AthencEinn. "A book of considerable ability and of thrilling interest, which never flags. Each character is portrayed in a vivid manner, and the plot is well carried out." — JoJui Bull. (306) Checkmate. By J. Sherldan Lefann, Author of " Uncle Silas," etc. " A very well-written novel. The plot is constructed with wonderful ingenuity." — Exaininet. " From the first page to the denouement the author excites, sustains, and baffles our curiosity." — Fall Mall Gazcl.'e. (330 Sir Jasper Gare^SAT. By Charles I^ever. " Although this novel is less extensively known than the humorous rollicking tales which have made Mr. Lever's name so popular, such as 'Harry Lorrequer,' 'Charles O'Malley,' 'Jack Hinton,' 'Tom Burke,' etc., there is in it much sterling portraiture, and a correct appreciation of character in both the higher and lower grades of life. Tliose who set apart portions of their library for the books of modern autliors, would be sadly deficient if they did not possess the collected works of Charles Lever." (48) Three "Wives. By the Author of " Book of Heroines." "The popular authoress of ' Margaret and her Bridesmaids' has here given us three very charnnng volumes. The work is full of interest, and will be read throughout with pleasure. We can safely commend ' Three Wives ' to the best attention of novel readers." — Sun. (302) (22) THE SELECT LIBRARY 2/- VOLS "FSbiV "XAT'om en . By Mrs. Forrester, > Author of "Olympus to Hades." "The plot of this story is fairly constructed and worked out. The style is natural and unaffected." — /^c?// Jl/all Gazette. "A healthy and interesting story. Mrs. Forrester's skill in the delineation of character is most forcibly shoAvn. Winifred Eyre and Fee Alton are charming creations." — Sunday Gazette. (305) Eva Desmond ; or, Mutation. "A more beautiful creation than Eva it would be difficult to imagine. I'he novel is undoubtedly full of interest." — Morning Post. '■'There is power, pathos, and originality in conception and catastrophe." — Leader. (35S) Bound to Win : a Tale of the Tnrf. By Hav/ley Smart, Author of " Race for a Wife." "Captain Smart has succeeded admirably in a vei-y difficult task. 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"A tale of English domestic life. The writing is very good, graceful, and unaffected ; it pleases without startling. In the dialogue, people do not harangue, but talk, and talk naturally." — Critic. (289; (19) The Three Chances. By the Author of "The Fair Carew." ** This novel is of a more solid texture than most of its con- temporaries. It is full of good sense, good thought, and good writing." — Statesman. (357) Lilliesleaf. By Mrs. Oliphant. "Mrs. Oliphant is one of the most admirable of our lady novelists. In her works there are always to be found high principle, good taste, sense, and refinement. The grace of her style, its tranquility, its un- studied but by no means negligent elegance, have a peculiar charm." — Post. (336) Panl Ferroll. ** We have seldom read so wonderful a romance. We can find no fault in it as a work of art. It leaves us in admiration, almost in awe, of the powers of its author." — New Quarterly. " The art displayed in presenting Paul Ferroll throughout the story is beyond all praise." — Examiner. (352) Play or Pay: a Novelette. By Hawley Smart, Author of " Bound to Win," *' Cecile," etc. ** Novelettes are rather more in Captain Smart's way than novels, and in the sporting novelette he is especially at home. In ' Play or Pay ' we are amused and interested from the first page to the last, and we need ask nothing more from a book of this kind. Naturally it does not deal with the more serious side of life, nor is the society to which we are introduced altogether of the best style. But, though the tone of Captain Smart's books may be fast, it is never vulgar and seldom very slangy." — Saturday Review. (375) Doctor Thorne. By Anthony TroUope. *'The fact that this is the 12th edition of this popular and delightful story is a proof of the favourable reception that it has met with amongst the novel-reading public. It is very rare in these days of rapid pro- duction that a work of fiction meets with such abundant success. We are not surprised at it, for there is a great charm in the manly honesty, the perseverance, the indifference to professional etiquette, and above all, in the affection of the doctor for his niece Mary Thorne, which must make him a favourite with every reader. The two young people are models of faithfulness, and in the end everything comes right, as it should come." — Western Daily Mercury. (85) ^20) Select Library of Fiction. PRICE TWO SHILLINGS. BY VOL. 321 Broken Bond^ 324 Two Kisses 328 False Cards 359 Courtship HAWLEY SMART. VOL. 361 Bou7id to Wt7i 364 Cecile; orModernldoJaiers 367 Race for a Wife 375 Play or Pay 382 Sunshine and Snow BY ANNIE THOMAS. 1 1 8 Denis Donne 134 Called to Accoiini 22,4 A Passion in Tatters 26^ He Cometh Not SheSaid 274 No Alternative 322 A Narrow Escape 338 Blotted Otit 376 -^ Laggard in Love BY F. W. ROBINSON. 77 Woma7i's Ransom 106 Slaves of the Ring III One-and-Twe7ity 113 Woodleigh 142 Milly's Hero 341 27/^ House of El77iore BY EDMUND YATES. 1 1() Forlorn Hope \ 126 La7id at Last 210 Castaway BY HENRY KINGSLEY. 195 Geoffry Ha7nlyn 196 Ravetishoe \Bnrto7is 197 77/^ Hilly ars a7id the 198 Silcote of Silcotes 199 Leighto7i Court 200 Austi7i Elliot BY FRANCES E. TROLLOPE. 212 Au7itMargarefsTrouble\ 326 ^ Char7ni7ig Fellow 308 Sacrista7i s Household \ 337 Vcro7iica BY MISS MATILDA B. EDWARDS 3 1 3 J'F//^ J%2£/^r ^APoifitofHo?iotir BY MRS. EORR ESTER. . i 299 Olympus to Hades | ^o^ Pair Women '' BY KATHERINE KING. 273 Lost for Gold 2 S3 Queen of the Regiment 354 Off the Roll 355 Our Detachment BY WILLLAM GILBERT. 37 S Wizard of the Mountain{z\(i) \ 380 Dr .Austin' sGucsts{2\(i) BY ANNA C. STEELE ^ 360 CondoiiLii I 363 Gar ■.:..- :..r^. 383 Broken Toys 5] London : CiiaPxMan & Hall, 193 Piccadilly. MISCELLANEOUS VOLUMES. THE SELECT LIBRARY OF FICTION TWO SHILLING VOLUMES, •• Capital Novels, well worth double the price asked for them." When ordering, the Numbers only need he given. ""38 MARY SEAHAM Author of " Gambler's Wife " 41 CHARLES AUCHESTER Author of "My First Season " 63 HUNCHBACKofNOTRE-DAME Victor Hugo 66 ELSIE VENNER 80 TILBURY NOGO 0. W. Holmes Whyte Melville 81 QUEEN OF THE SEAS Captain Armstrong 123 CARRY'S CONFESSION Author of "Mattie" 131 CHRISTIE'S FAITH Author of "Mattie" 141 LIZZIE LORTON 145 BAR SINISTER Mrs, Linton C. A. Collins 159 SECRET DISPATCH James Grant 204 SEMI-ATTACHED COUPLE Lady Eden 210 CASTAWAY Edmund Yates 231 CHARLEY NUGENT Author of "Si. AubynsofSt. Aubyn" 270 HAGARENE Author of "Guy Livingstone" 281 LOST BRIDE Lady Chatterton 284 WILD GEORGIE Jean Middlemass 286 FIRST IN THE FIELD Author of "Recommended to Mercy " 294 OFF THE LINE Lady Charles Thynne 306 FATHER GODFREY Author of "Anne Dysart " 310 QUEEN OF HERSELF Alice King 337 VERONICA Eleanor F. Trollope 339 MATTIE: A STRAY Author of " Christie's Faith " 341 HOUSE OF ELMORE F. W. Robinson 343 A FATAL ERROR J. Masterman -.47 MAINSTONE'S HOUSEKEEPER Eliza Meteyard 352 PAUL FERROLL Author of " Why Paul Ferroll Killed His Wife " 353 WILD HYACINTH C. Emily Blanch Randolph 357 THREE CHANCES Author of "The Fair Carew" ^79 ALL FOR GREED Baroness B. De Bury 381 MY HEART'S IN THE HIGH- LANDS Miss Grant 386 KELVERDALE Earl of Desart 3S7 EYE FOR AN EYE Anthony Trollope 6] London: CHAPMAN & HALL, 193 Piccadilly. BY THE MOST POPULAR AUTHORS OF THE DAY. WHEN ORDERING, THE NUMBERS ONLY NEED BE GIVEN 374 Hilary St, Ives. W. H. AINSWORTH. 373 Myddleton Pomfret. W. H. AINSWORTH. 1/ Jack Hinton. Charles Lever. ?2 Harry Lorrequer. CHARLES LEVER. 48 Sir Jasper Carew. CHARLES LEVER. 53 A Day's Ride: a Life's Romance. CHARLES LEVER. 82 Eo Would be a Gentleman. SAMUEL LOVER. 86 Macdermots of Bally cloran. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 89 Luttrell of Arran. CHARLES LEVER. 93 The Kellys and the O'Kellys. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 96 Castle Richmond. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 100 The Bertrams. ANTHONY TROLliOPE. 125 Belton Estate. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 139 Which is the Winner? C. C. CLARKE. 173 0. V. H.; or, How Mr. Blake be- came a M. F. H. W. BRADWOOD. 188 Lotta Schmidt. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 193 Reit in a Cloud. CHARLES LEVER. 195 G-ttuTi / Hamlyn. HENRY KINGSLEY. 199 Leighton Court. HENRY KINGSLEY. 225 Tony Butler. Charles Lever. 231 Charley Nugent. Author of " ST. AUBYNS OF ST. AUBYN." 232 Morley Court. Autiior of ••UNCLE SILAS." 280 Squire Arden. 285 Ombra. Mrs. Oliphant. Mrs. Oliphant. 300 Vicar of Bullhampton. ANTHONY TROLLOPE. '603 Book of Heroines. Author of "LADIES OP LOVEL LEIGH." 311 Sun and Shade. Author of " URSULA'S LOVE STORY." 313 Wild Flower of Ravensworth. Miss BETHAM EDWARDS. 321 Broken Bonds. Hawley Smart. 323 Heart and Cross. Mrs. OLIPHANT. Mark Lemon. W. Gilbert. 325 Leyton Hall. 330 Clara Levesque. 332 Paul Wynter's Sacrifice, LADY DUFEUS HARDY. 352 Paul Ferroll. Author of " Why PAUL FERROLL KILLED HIS WIPE." 356 Darkest before Dawn. Author of "CRUELEST WRONG OP ALL." 358 Eva Desmond. MARY MATILDA SMITH. 367 Race for a Wife. HAWLEY SMART. 368 Leaguer of Lathom. W. H. AINSWORTH. 1878 (b). LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL.