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 A NOVEL 
 
THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
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 UFTONffinTlIRE 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY TUE AUTHOR OF "THE ODD TRUMP," "HARWOOD," "THE LACY DIAMONDS,' 
 "FLE.su AND SPIRIT," ETC. 
 
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 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. lippi:n'cott & co. 
 
 187 8. 
 
Copyright, 1878, by J. B. Lippincott <fc Co. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Some memories of personal adventure, some rude outlines of real 
 character, and some fragments of Orienti\l superstition are here 
 brouglit together to form The Clifton Picture. The colours have 
 been applied at odd times, during brief pauses in a busy life, whose 
 chief energies are employed in a far different field from the flowery 
 domain of literature. No artistic arrangement of contrasts and 
 harmonies, of lights and shadows, has been attempted. The recital 
 of actual experiences, in former books, has once and again been at- 
 tributed to the vagaries of fancy, and it is probable a similar criti- 
 cism awaits the present volume. But the cases are rare in which 
 an unknown writer has received such gentle treatment from readers 
 and critics; and no one can be more profoundly sensible of this 
 kind reception, nor more heartily grateful for it, than the author of 
 the Odd Trump novels. 
 
 New York, May 13, 1878. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 P^QE 
 
 CHAPTER I. The Photograph "^ 
 
 II. The Raynefords l'-^ 
 
 III. Mr. Daltman ^^ 
 
 lY. Mr. Glendare 23 
 
 V. Miles 29 
 
 VI. Mildred ^^ 
 
 VII. The " Nellie" ^^ 
 
 VIII. Knighthood ^* 
 
 IX. A Departure ^^ 
 
 X. Haidee ^* 
 
 XI. The Soldiers • ^^ 
 
 XII. Annot ^^ 
 
 XIII. Some Letters 69 
 
 XIV. On the Sea "^^ 
 
 XV. The Battle ^2 
 
 XVI. Robbery ^^ 
 
 XVII. Annie Laurie 9* 
 
 XVIII. Insurmountable Obstacles 100 
 
 XIX. At Hawkley 106 
 
 XX. The Search Begun 112 
 
 XXI. A New Enterprise 119 
 
 XXII. The Mordaunts 125 
 
 XXIII. Courting 131 
 
 XXIV. Hardy's Story 137 
 
 XXV. Fixing the Day 1*^ 
 
 XXVI. Fixed '^^ 
 
 XXVII. Mr. Boston 156 
 
 XXVIII. The Chase 163 
 
 XXIX. Across Channel 1™ 
 
 XXX. Fishing 1^7 
 
 5 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTEK XXXI. At Bath 183 
 
 XXXII. The Picture 189 
 
 XXXIII. Sista 196 
 
 XXXIV. Disinterested Affections 202 
 
 XXXV. The Start 209 
 
 XXXVI. A Proposal 215 
 
 XXXVII. The Abduction 221 
 
 XXXVIII. The Rescue 227 
 
 XXXIX. The Arrest 232 
 
 XL. Cross-Examined 239 
 
 XLI. Mr. Plimpton 245 
 
 XLII. The Meeting 251 
 
 XLIII. A Challenge 257 
 
 XLIV. Eeunion 263 
 
 XLV. The Picture 269 
 
 XLVI. Mr. Dancer 275 
 
 XLVII. Hyland's Perplexities 281 
 
 XLVIII. To Brenfam Mills 287 
 
 XLIX. The Will and Letters 293 
 
 L. The Overcoat 299 
 
 LI. Tulwar and Picture 305 
 
 LII. L'Envoi 311 
 
 
THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 The Photograph. 
 
 W 
 
 HEN the tide fills the bed of the Avon, Clifton Downs is one 
 of the most pleasant localities in pleasant England. Twice 
 in the day the channel is full, and from Bristol to St. Vincent's 
 Rocks, you may find numbers of sea-going steamers passing up and 
 down, and always attracting the attention of the loungers on the 
 Downs and the Suspension bridge. There is a railway on each bank 
 of the river, one of them connecting Clifton with a port at the head 
 of Bristol Channel, passing through several miniature tunnels. From 
 the high rocks on the north bank the trains slipping along the rails 
 look like toy-carriages, and when passengers alight at the station 
 they look like Liliputians, and the loungers above mentioned won- 
 der how they will ever climb the rocks and so reach the level of the 
 Downs. 
 
 Coming across the Suspension bridge in a pony-carriage, one of 
 these loungers stops to watch the train, two hundred and fifty feet 
 below him. A veritable lounger. Too indolent to drive, the reins 
 are wrapped around the whip, and he manages the pony orally. He 
 is twenty-five at least. A brown beard covers the lower part of his 
 face, hiding his mouth, except at the corner, where a cigar parts his 
 thick moustache. The train slides under the tunnel, emerges again, 
 and stops at the station, while a dozen passengers alight. 
 
 " If those fellows would only stand still a moment," he mutters, 
 " I'd take them. They look like a colony of ants swarming about 
 down there. No use! Get along. Tommy !" 
 
 Tommy wagged his ears, and proceeded soberly onward. He 
 knew the legal pace across the bridge. When he passed through 
 the great portal on the Clifton side, he struck a trot, turned up 
 towards the Observatory, and halted when he reached its base. 
 
 The gentleman alighted. You would not hesitate to give him 
 
 7 
 
8 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 this title, as he stood there idly, under the August sun, in a vel- 
 veteen coat and felt hat. He took a tripod from the carriage, then 
 a photographer's camera, placed it upon the tripod, and, peering 
 through, got the Observatory into focus. He was quite deliberate 
 in his movements, and when he had arranged his apparatus, the 
 passengers had surmounted the two hundred and fifty feet, and some 
 of them were strolling over the Downs. As he withdrew his head 
 from under the cloth that excluded the light from his instrument, 
 he noticed an obstruction between him and the Observatory. 
 
 A feminine obstruction, of course. 
 
 It was a girl who had just climbed the Zigzag. Instead of going 
 to the hotel with her escort, she had left him to attend to the be- 
 stowal of luggage, and raced out to the Downs. She had seen that 
 duck of a bridge three or four times while in the train, and life was 
 a burden until she stood upon it. But she came to the Observatory 
 first, and paused to examine that structure. How should she know 
 that the photographer was waiting ? 
 
 He waited with exemplary patience, while she flitted across his 
 line and back again. She wore a lilac-coloured dress, with delicate 
 little sprigs running over it, a straw hat, pushed backward, and a 
 shower of brown curls falling below it. Rather a pretty child, he 
 thought. So did Tommy, as she stopped her restless flitting a tran- 
 sient instant to pat his neck. The photographer lighted a fresh 
 cigar, and was about to withdraw the slide of the camera, when she 
 suddenly darted into his " field" again. 
 
 There was a post standing near the Observatory, with a printed 
 placard upon it. It was a gala-day in Clifton, and there were to be 
 fireworks at the gardens. She w^as apparently absorl)ed in the 
 announcement of the festivities, as she stood with upturned face, 
 directly in the artist's way. 
 
 " Three-quarter face !" said he, " and still as a mouse. I'll take 
 her !" He withdrew the slide, and watching her narrowly, dropped 
 the cloth over the instrument before she moved. That August sun 
 had settled her destiny in less than a minute. 
 
 He gathered up his implements and replaced them in his vehicle, 
 passing her with a grave bow. She looked eagerly at him out of 
 startled gray eyes, bowed in return, and then walked sedately around 
 the Observatory. When Tommy recrossed the bridge a few minutes 
 later, she was standing at the rail, looking down into Nightingale 
 Valley. There are few lovelier views upon the surface of this planet. 
 
 " Not so young as I thought !" said the artist, as Tommy took 
 
THE PHOTOGRAPU. 9 
 
 him jnist the graceful figure. " Eighteen, I fancy. I wonder how 
 she took ?" If he had known how intently she was watching him, 
 he would have been less composed as he receded from her view. 
 
 Across the bridge and skirting the Valley. Up the hillside 
 Tommy walking soi)crly. There was no law against trotting there, 
 but the law of the summer sun. Arrival at last at the pretty little 
 cottage where the photographer had rooms, Tommy stopped. He 
 wanted some provender. 
 
 The artist hail constructed a dark closet with boards and curtains, 
 and this seriously reduced the area of his sitting-room. Into this 
 den he entered, and performed all those mysterious operations by 
 which photographic pictures are made presentable. Assuring him- 
 self that his picture was a success, there were some hours of necessary 
 delay to be passed before the " negative" could be made positive. 
 So, taking hat and cane, he started out for a walk before dinner. 
 
 Should he go back to the Downs, and try to get another sight of 
 the girl ? Xo ! Bother the girl ! Most likely he would never see 
 her again. By-the-bye, he had her picture though ! Now there were 
 probably half a dozen fellows who would give any price he might 
 please to ask for that picture. But he would not sell it. The 
 Observatory was beautifully taken in the background. He would 
 take it full size first, then he would take a small carte. Then he 
 would obliterate the background, and take her in miniature for a 
 locket. 
 
 With these thoughts in his mind, he strolled down the river bank. 
 Two hours to spai*e. Pipe in his pocket. He would walk down to 
 Hasper Head, three miles off, and smoke one pipe there. Then he 
 would climb the hill and go back to dinner. Nothing attractive 
 about the walk, but the view from Hasper Head was fine. A long 
 stretch of the river, the cliffs on the other side, and probably a lot 
 of vessels going up or down, as the tide was in. 
 
 There goes a schooner now, down stream ! Fair wind and plain 
 sailing. She will be in the channel in two hours. Now, it would 
 be jolly to take a short cruise in such a trim-looking craft. And 
 that reminded him of Frank Daltman again. 
 
 Frank had a yacht somewhere. He had invited him to join him in 
 stuidry cruises. That is, some time ago, before he took to vagabond- 
 life. What would Frank think of him, if he knew he was photo- 
 graphing all crciition and selling ])ictures? Bother Frank ! He 
 was a bad lot anyhow. Why did he think about him so •much 
 to-day ? 
 
10 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Schooner abreast now. Hillo ! she is tacking. There she goes — 
 straight for the Clifton side. Tacking again ! And now she lies 
 head up stream. Surely, she is not going back ! Anchored ! by 
 this light ! 
 
 A boat lowered. Two men only, rowing ashore. Ah ! the mys- 
 tery is explained. There is a lady on the bank. And two men. 
 They are carrying a large parcel between them. In the boat and 
 back to the schooner. But the lady is not with them. Now the 
 boat is hidden by the hull of the schooner. Ah ! there they come, 
 over the rail, still carrying the parcel. Anchor up. Now she swings 
 round and off again. 
 
 Pipe out. There goes the lady up the cliff. She is a stunner to 
 climb ! 
 
 Spread out on the grass, peering over the face of the cliff, he can 
 see the deck of the schooner as she passes below. That parcel is laid 
 out on some shawls, and it seems to be vital ! Schooner slipping 
 away, but the parcel moves, and then a little white hand comes out 
 and fumbles at the end of it. Hillo ! what is up now ? 
 
 The two men run up, wrap the parcel in the shawls, and, raising 
 it from the deck, carry it to the companion-way. It is positively 
 kicking now, for he can see the boots. But they blunder along, and 
 at last get down the stairs. Then the stern of the schooner comes 
 into view and he sees the name : " Ariadne, of Glasgow." 
 
 The climbing lady is atop of the opposite bank, and she is looking 
 at him. Half a mile distant. He cannot distinguish her features, 
 so, of course, she cannot distinguish his. He has a great mind to 
 bow to her, but concludes he will not. He lies motionless. She 
 stands like a statue. He might as well be asleep or dead, lying 
 there in the sun. The schooner is turning the point below, and the 
 man at the helm is waving a handkerchief. Shall he return the sal- 
 utation ? Never mind. The lady is doing it. And she slowly 
 retires from the edge of the bank as the vessel disappears. 
 
 Now suppose he should get up and run down to the point for an- 
 other glimpse of the schooner? Wait a moment. Perhaps that 
 sharp-eyed lady will reappear. Sure enough ! There she is. My 
 lady, you came too soon. He does not move a muscle. For ten min- 
 utes slie stands there watching him. There is a tield-glass hanging 
 on a peg in his cottage room. He would give ten pounds, now, for 
 one look through it. He would like to know that lady, if he should 
 ever uieet her again. 
 
 She wore a little round straw hat, with a scarlet flower on one 
 
THE PHOTOGRAPH. 11 
 
 side. He could see the brilliant colour across the strouii, as she 
 stood motionless on the hill-top. How they glared at each other, 
 each deploring the defects in human vision, and each wishing for 
 the sharp eyes of the sea-gulls, that were flapping their leathern 
 wings far above the surface of the Avon, yet ever and anon darting 
 down after some floating waif on the river. By-the-bye, there must 
 be a storm brewing, as the sea-birds were so far inland. The lady 
 ■was a statue. The man was a log. And by some occult mental 
 process he knew, when she finally retired, that she was coming to 
 investigate him. Siie would walk up the north bank, cross the 
 bridge, and walk down again on his side of the water. 
 
 As soon as the lady was hidden by the bank he arose and, throw- 
 ing oft' his habitual indolence, walked swiftly back, reaching Nigiit- 
 ingale Valley before the lady could possibly reach the bridge. Could 
 he reach the cottage before she crossed ? Risky ! So he plunged 
 into the covert and waited. 
 
 Here she comes, by this light ! The round hat with the scarlet 
 flower. AValking rapidly, yet with stately grace. Glancing around 
 her as she passed, he got a good view of her face, not ten yards dis- 
 tant. Her lull lips, slightly compressed, her soft blue eyes, full of 
 placid watchfulness and suggesting the idea of unyielding determi- 
 nation, and over all her exterior that unmistakable high-bred appear- 
 ance that cannot be simulated and cannot be hidden. You would 
 not think of calling her pretty, but you would tiiink of Cleopatra, 
 Zenobia, and other historic names of warlike women. AViien the 
 turn of the road hid her, the photographer emerged from his hiding- 
 place and resumed his walk. Reaching the cottage, he sat down to 
 meditate while he smoked. And when the sun disappeared and the 
 nightingale in the valley began his evening song he called his land- 
 lady. 
 
 "'Mrs. Noils," he said, " please take care of Tommy for a few days. 
 I am called, or rather sent, somewhat suddenly to — to another part 
 of the country." 
 
12 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Raynefords. 
 
 "TTAWKLEY had belonged to the Raynefords for twenty gener- 
 -• — ■- ations. It is an old stone house in good repair, and tlie wall 
 on the eastern side has two or three dents in it, made by Cromwell's 
 cannon-balls. These are historic marks, and are carefully preserved, 
 to illustrate the story of Miles Rayneford, who was besieged there 
 by Roundheads in the olden time. He was the last warrior of the 
 race, and died, sword in hand, just within his own threshold. His 
 son was stricken down by his side, sorely wounded, but was well 
 nursed by Mistress Hildah Martin, whose father, a grim old Puritan, 
 was left in charge of Hawkley after the battle. The war drifted 
 away from the county, and young ]\Iiles Rayneford was forgotten 
 by everybody except pretty Mistress Hildah. And when peace 
 came, under the Commonwealth, and old Martin died, Miles mar- 
 ried his gentle nurse and the next generation Avere Presbyterians. 
 Father Martin left enough worldly wealtii to cover all defects in 
 his genealogy, and the Restoration found Miles Rayneford a portly 
 gentleman with two sons, who affected agricultural occupations, and 
 scorned the frivolities of the court. And as England grew more 
 and more corrupt in morals and manners, the Raynefords became 
 more and more unfashionable, inheriting an honoured name, main- 
 taining a spotless reputation, but losing caste among the gentry of 
 the neighbourhood, who came to talk of the Raynefords of Hawkley 
 as an old race that had died out or been supplanted by a succession 
 of humdrum country 'squires, that were more than half Dissenters 
 at heart. 
 
 But the Raynefords regained caste two generations ago. There 
 came a certain Miles Rayneford (for they kept up the name of the 
 last cavalier, whose sword hung over the mantel in the great dining- 
 room), and he was learned in the law, and Mon high honours in Par- 
 liament, and finally died Lord Rayneford of Hawkley. His son, 
 the second Baron, married the daughter of the Earl of Hyland, 
 with a good fortune in her own right, a large part of which he 
 managed to spend, leaving her a widow with two sons, !Miles and 
 Hyland, an encumbered estate to be inherited by Miles, third Lord 
 Rayneford, and about a thousand pounds a year of her original 
 dower, which went to her second son, Hyland Rayneford, when she 
 took her place by the side of her lord in Hawkley churchyard. 
 
THE RAYNEFORDS. 13 
 
 And as the early manhood of these two gentlemen was attained in 
 the proximate past, the present history is concerned witli them and 
 their fortunes. 
 
 The brothers had spent their early lives together. They were at 
 Eton together, and chewed the same Greek roots side by side. But 
 two years after he reached his majority, Ilyland, impulsive, restless, 
 and obstinate, took service with the East India Company, and sailed 
 for Calcutta to '' lose his liver or gain a lac," as he expressed it. It 
 was a sore trial to Miles, who was fond of the wayward boy ; but 
 his affectionate remonstrance availed nothing, and Ilyland left his 
 native land brimful of pluck and energy, and confident of success 
 in rupee-hunting. His thousand pounds a year he thought was only 
 modified penury, but he wisely resolved to leave his capital in three 
 per cents, and live within his income. His. modest ambition — for 
 he was only twenty-three — was to secure a revenue of twenty thou- 
 sand a year, and then rest from his labours. 
 
 "You know. Miles," he said, as they stood apart on the deck 
 of the big ship, slowly following the snorting little tug down the 
 Thames — "you know a fellow cannot dawdle through life with no 
 object before him. I must make a little money out of John Com- 
 pany before I get too old." 
 
 "You have money enough now, Hyland," replied his brother. 
 " You are richer than I, although I am lord of Hawkley." 
 
 " Lord Rayneford, Miles," said Hyland, " your name is better than 
 money. And if you will take it, I will give you half of mine. I 
 shall be no poorer, for I don't count my thousand a year as anything. 
 I am going to live on my salary out yonder." 
 
 " Well, come back with me, Hyland," replied Lord Rayneford, 
 "and I will live economically, and you and I together will work to 
 cleiir the old place. I will promise not to marry, so you will be 
 Lord Rayneford when I die." 
 
 "'England expects every man to do his duty,' brother," said 
 Hyland. "You will be obliged to marry. Young noblemen are 
 not allowed to lie about loose in this country. I know six mammas 
 this moment who have designs upon you. Ah ! old Miles, I think 
 if I were Lord Rayneford I would die when I assumed the title ! 
 Nobody in the wide world but you. Miles !" and he turned aside a 
 moment to hide his emotion ; " and if you were to die, all the wide 
 world would be dead to me !" 
 
 " And yet you leave me, Hyland." 
 
 " Tut ! A\'hat is a journey to Calcutta in these days? ^^'hy, we 
 
14 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 shall hear from each other every week. Let me go, Miles, just 
 to look at the country, and kill a tiger, and ride on an elephant, 
 and learn to swear in Hindoostauee. If the field is not promising 
 I'll come back to you. Hillo ! there's the last bell. Good-bye, 
 brother !" 
 
 Now these young gentlemen, so open and truthful, had each been 
 carefully concealing from the other certain sentiments which mod- 
 ified the distress of their first separation. 
 
 Two miles from Hawkley a retired manufacturer had erected a 
 villa. It was not gorgeous, but was large and well appointed. ISIr. 
 Brentam had made his fortune by twenty years of diligent work in 
 iron founderies and forges, and while he withdrew from all active 
 participation in commercial affairs, he still retained shares in various 
 works, and was a director in two or three that were near Hawkley. 
 He was a busy man, always foremost in charitable enterprises, and 
 always prompt to join in schemes for the promotion of workingmen's 
 interests. At Brentam Mills, he had a village of model cottages, all 
 constructed under his personal supervision, and all inhabited by 
 thrivinsr families. For a wonder, he was total Iv indifferent about 
 his status in the neighbourhood, and for a second wonder, the '' good 
 families" did not turn up their noses at him. He was a widower 
 and childless, but he had a nephew, Frank Daltman, and a niece, 
 Mildred Carey. These were orphan children of his sisters, and 
 they were more troublesome to him than all his wealth. 
 
 Place aux dames. Mildred Carey was two years younger than 
 her cousin, and at the date of Hyland's departure was the ac- 
 knowledged belle of the county. Her father was a member of one 
 of the "county" families, who had married Miss Brentam because 
 she was a shareholder in Brentam Mills, a corporation which paid 
 good dividends. Mr. Carey was constitutionally impecunious, but 
 his brother-in-law secured the inheritance of Mildred in the mar- 
 riage settlement, and when she was orphaned, and removed to her 
 uncle's house, it was vaguely understood in the neighbourhood that 
 she was an heiress of respectable dimensions. The girl was educated 
 at expensive schools, was very much of a lady, a little haughty, a 
 trifle self-walled, but a very general favourite. Of course, all the 
 young gentlemen of the neighbourhood, eligible and otherwise, 
 adored Miss Carey. But the most ardent of her admirers was 
 Lord Rayneford, who was living a life of agony under the convic- 
 tion that Mildred manifested a decided preference for his younger 
 brother, Hyland. 
 
THE RAWSKFORDS. 15 
 
 Hykiml, who was not the least bit of a coxcotub, had gradually 
 reached the same conclusion. And the most curious feature in this 
 trian^'ular involvement was the fact that Hyland was the solitary 
 youth in the charmed circle of which Mildred was the centre who 
 did not surrender to her attractions. He knew that Miles was a 
 silent worshipper of this goddess, though no words ever passed be- 
 tween the brothers to reveal the true state of their feelings. Miles 
 was jealous because he was madly in love, and he constantly sus- 
 pected his brother of hypocrisy, when Hyland's indifference to Mil- 
 dred's charms was most manifest. And Hyland, generous and 
 considerate, forbore to utter his sentiments touching Mildred's 
 haughtiness and obstinacy, lest he should pain his brother. Some- 
 how, these three were continually playing at cross-purposes. Mildred 
 was incensed, while Hyland stood aloof, she thinking he had detected 
 her liking for him, and therefore becoming more haughty and distant 
 to Lord Rayneford, because she imagined that the brothers discussed 
 her, and their relative chances of winning her. Miles would not 
 believe that any man could be in the society of his idol without 
 yielding homage, and therefore concluded his brother's coolness a 
 pretense, which was the more galling because he suspected Hyland 
 of sacrificing his own inclinations for his sake. And Hyland, slow 
 to discover his own attractiveness of mind and person, was in a state 
 of chronic instability, under the impression that Miss Carey had 
 resolved to bring him to her feet for the mere purpose of "throwing 
 him over" as soon as he should essay serious courtship. No such 
 purpose was in his thought. The youth was a motive-hunter. He 
 spent his life in investigating the springs of human action, and at 
 twenty-two he thought he had mastered many of the most inscrutable 
 problems of mental and moral philosophy. The philosophy that 
 was fashionable in his day was a queer mixture of the theories of 
 Zeno, Epicurus, Chrysippus, and their modern disciples, Hobbes, 
 Mill, and Auguste Comte. It was compact and portable, and it 
 could all be summed up in one or two postulates : First. Nothing 
 is good except that which gives pleasure. Second. No motive can 
 influence humanity except the desire for pleasure, or, its converse, 
 the repugnance to pain. Consequently all those sentiments that pre- 
 suppose disinterested beneficence are a delusion or a sham. And if 
 the reader will extract anything more or greater from the separate 
 or united teachings of the worthies above enumerated, he or she is 
 in a fair way to square the circle. 
 
 With this budding philosophy filling his mind, and charming 
 
16 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 him by constantly recurring proofs of the innate selfishness of hu- 
 manity, Hyland was not fitted to play the lover. And if he had 
 been, Mildred was not the woman to awaken tender emotions in his 
 soul. Her accomplishments amused and entertained him, and he 
 enjoyed her society until he discovered in her a pronounced prefer- 
 ence for his, and then, seeking her motives with no better light than 
 Positivism could furnish, he coolly decided that she wanted a new 
 conquest to gratify her vanity. The youth had not learned that the 
 vast chambers of a woman's mind could not be explored by so feeble 
 a glimmer ! 
 
 So Hyland promptly caught at the opportunity for escape when 
 the Calcutta appointment was ofl'ered. He had been conscious of 
 the subdued jealousy of Miles, and as he knew no more eligible 
 admirer than Lord Rayneford was seeking her favour, he was the 
 more eager to give his brother a clear field by retiring himself. All 
 this he kept secret when they were parting and afterwards. 
 
 And Lord Rayneford also, who did not wear his heart upon his 
 sleeve, drew some comfort from similar reflections, as he watched 
 the ship that bore Hyland away passing down the river. He was 
 not afilicted with Hyland's philosophy, and concluded that his 
 brother would never entertain matrimonial plans while his revenue 
 was so limited. And therefore, he was going to India, to burn out 
 the tender emotions under her tropical skies. So, being a quiet 
 man and sensitive to a degree, he had not spoken of Mildred at all 
 in his later colloquies with Hyland. 
 
 The Raynefords had been two weeks in London before Hyland's 
 departure. The appointment was offered by a friend of Hyland's 
 father, at whose house they were dining, and accepted on the in- 
 stant. The duties would be easy enough — chiefly literary work, 
 some civil engineering, and a good deal of drawing, which was 
 specially attractive to Hyland, who had a penchant for art. 
 
 " The salary is not large," observed Mr. Plimpton ; " but three 
 hundred pounds will pay your expenses, Hyland. And if you take 
 to India life, there are numerous chances of promotion out there." 
 
 " It is more than I am worth," said Hyland, in reply ; " and my 
 conscience will compel me to serve John Company diligently to earn 
 the three hundred. I'll stick at it until I master the lingo, anyhow." 
 
 When Lord Rayneford returned to Hawkley, he found the news 
 of his brother's departure had preceded him. Hyland was a gen- 
 eral favourite, and Miles received many congratulations upon his 
 brother's good fortune, and was entertained with many predictions 
 
THE RAYNEFORDS. 17 
 
 of his success. Miss Carey, wlio was too self- possessed to manifest 
 any emotion, received Hyhuid's parting messages with great j)()lite- 
 ness ami composure. But she was a good deal chagrined to find 
 nothing in these last words, faithfully repeated by Miles, beyond 
 the onlinaiy farewells of an ordinary acquaintance. 
 
 "JIow long will Mr, Raynetord be alxsent?" she enquired. 
 
 "He says," replied Lord Ixayneford, ''that he will stay until he 
 makes a Inc of rupees. I thought, at the time, he meant silver 
 rupees, but it just occurs to me that he may have intended to say 
 gold rupees. If he did " 
 
 ''Well?" 
 
 " If he meant gold rupees," continued Miles, slowly, " I don't 
 think he will ever return ! Money don't grow in the jungles ! And 
 Hyland is such a determined fellow when he makes up his mind, 
 that he will not relinquish his purpose on account of difficulties." 
 
 "He will meet Frank there," observed Miss Carey; "I mean 
 my cousin, Frank Daltman. When you Avrite you might send him 
 a letter from Uncle Brentam. I will write to Frank also." 
 
 "Thanks! You are very kind. I thought Mr. Daltman was 
 at the Cape ?" 
 
 "His regiment was ordered to Calcutta, recently," replied Miss 
 Carey. " By-the-bye, your brother never met him. I remember he 
 told me so, a few weeks ago. Did you go to the Crystal Palace ? 
 Of course! you were two weeks in London. How beautiful the 
 Victoria Regia is ! Ah ! that reminds me. You have not seen our 
 rhododendrons ! They are in full bloom. Will you walk in the 
 garden ?" 
 
 When Lord Rayneford rode home that evening, he thought Mil- 
 dred had been so remarkably kind that he must be growing in 
 favour. Since he had received his inheritance he had been diligently 
 economizing, as he had resolved to remove the encumbrances that 
 burdened it and reduced his revenues. Like Hyland, he was "a 
 determined fellow," and he resisted all temptation to spend, and 
 had already made some decided reduction in the indebtedness of the 
 estate. And that evening he pondered over rent-rolls and mort- 
 gages, and calculated how nmch longer he must wait before he coiild 
 ask Miss Carey to become Lady Rayneford. 
 
 And ]\Iildred, at the same hour, was saying to herself that she 
 would uid)end to my lord more graciously than was customary, as 
 he would be sure to have the earliest news of Hyland, in whose 
 career she felt a decided interest. 
 
18 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Mr. Daltman. 
 
 ly/TR. HYLAND RAYNEFORD, who affected utter scorn of 
 -^^-^ the theory that gave special privileges to men of gentle birth, 
 was, nevertheless, received with favour into the best societv in Cal- 
 cutta, as the scion of a noble house and heir-apparent to a title. The 
 only brother of the bachelor Lord Rayneford was a welcome visitor 
 in all the English families resident in the Indian city. His official 
 duties, in the service of the Honourable East India Company, had 
 a semi-politidal character, and the young array-officers received him 
 with open arms. It therefore happened that he had established very 
 intimate relations with Lieutenant Frank Daltman long; before the 
 tardy mails brought the credentials referred to in the previous 
 chapter. 
 
 There was not much in common between these young gentlemen 
 either. Hyland did not scruple to avow his purpose to earn and 
 save money to add to his scanty patrimony. Mr. Daltman, on the 
 contrary, who was passably affluent, was chiefly interested in devising 
 methods whereby he could get rid of his superfluous cash. There 
 were sundry amicable contests between them, growing out of this 
 difference. Rayneford constantly declined joining in expensive 
 amusements, refusing urgent and cordial invitations to parties in 
 which no outlay was required of him, upon the ground that he did 
 not intend reciprocal entertainments, and was uncomfortable under 
 a sense of obligation. 
 
 " The truth is, Frank," he said one day, at the close of such a 
 debate, " I am set upon a single purpose, and I must have a good 
 lot of money if I accomplish it. If I had not this purpose in view, 
 I should be as reckless a spendthrift as yourself I want twenty 
 thousand pounds, and when I get that much, and spend it — for I 
 mean to spend it — I shall give up my miserly habits." 
 
 " You must be after a regular estate," said Daltman. " What do 
 you intend to buy with twenty thousand pounds?" 
 
 " Ah !" said Hyland, " that is a secret. It would not interest you. 
 Don't you know every fellow has a separate object?" 
 
 " Except when two fellows want the same charming angel." 
 
 " And even then there is a difference. One fellow will want her 
 money, and the other will admire her beauty, or her wit, or her 
 rank." 
 
MR. DALTMAN. 19 
 
 "But I mean," said Paltman, " wlien two fellows are really in 
 love, you know.' Kogular s^poony. No sham, but genuine, heart- 
 break in^: love." 
 
 " \\A\r rejoined the philosopher, after a pause, love lias all the 
 elements I have me.itione.l. Some fellows will love a pretty face, 
 and othei-s a {^ood rent-roll. You are not silly enough to believe in 
 any such stutV as 'disinterested affection,' or the kind of humbug 
 
 vou read in novels?" ,, t i \.^ 
 
 ' " I don't know," answered Daltman, doubtfully. I tliought 
 there might be something of Ihe sort in nature. But I have had no 
 experience in the spoonv line. Now, holding your sentiments, I 
 don't see why you can't take your twenty thousand with an incum- 
 brance." 
 
 " What sort of incumbrance?" 
 
 " A wife ! You can get a wife with the requisite quantity of 
 
 tin 
 
 " But that would be Ixer tin," replied Hyland. " Many thanks for 
 the suggestion, but it will not do. I want twenty thousand of my 
 ov\n." 
 
 " Yes," said Daltman, " the settlements would be a bore. But you 
 micrht find an angel with a liberal father, who would not tie the tin 
 up^too tightlv. Now, I am not going into the matrimonial business 
 until I find "a damsel with ten thousand a year; and I intend to 
 direct the expenditures too. And in order to do this I must find a 
 damsel who has property in her own right, and who will not come 
 to my loving arms encumbered with a burglar-proof and husband- 
 proof lot of ''settlements. You need not look so shocked ! The only 
 difference between me and all those other fellows is that I don't mind 
 telling the truth." 
 
 " Well," said Hvland, after a pause, " there is nothing in your 
 sentiment^s that contradicts true philosophy. But I must reflect upon 
 it before I can commend your plans. I suppose there must be a 
 difference between marrying a wife and buying a horse, or I could 
 not recoil so promptly from the mere statement of your scheme. I 
 will investigate, and give you my conclusion to-morrow. I must 
 consult some authorities." 
 
 Hyland kept a diary. This was not so much a record of events 
 as a record of his wise conclusions. After the conversation above 
 written he made the following entry: 
 
 " Had a discussion with Frank Daltman to-day that has set me to 
 thinking. He openly avows his purpose to marry a woman with 
 
20 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 money, for tlie sake of the money. And I am perplexed to account 
 for my instinctive contempt for such a scheme, and for the man who 
 can construct it. Beciiuse I see so many examples of just such mean- 
 ness, if I may so term it, that Frank differs from other men only in 
 his bold avowal. I thought I had reduced motive to its last anal- 
 ysis, and had demonstrated that pure selfishness was pure philosopiiv. 
 And now I must objectivise the subjective, and analyse my prompt 
 recoil. 
 
 "First, by M-ay of introduction : Can I marry for money? 
 
 " No ! a thousand times no ! Tentatively : maxim first. — One can 
 never safely distrust one's instincts. Because instincts are either 
 moral or sentimental, and therefore cannot be subjected to the tests 
 applied to material phenomena. I refer, of course, to human in- 
 stincts, which are (perhaps) the faculties that cognise prerequisites. 
 
 "I instinctively recoil from Frank's principle. That is to say : 
 some inexorable law dominates my mental organism that does not 
 hamper Frank. It must be a law. For I cannot debate the propo- 
 sition any more than I could debate a proposition that involved 
 falsehood or dishonesty. I simply refuse to entertain the idea. 
 Things that equal the same thing equal each other. 
 
 " Analysis : Marrying for money involves both falsehood and dis- 
 honesty. No man tells the heiress that he wants her money. No 
 such case of courting is on record. The suitor addresses personal 
 charms, mental endowments, moral beauties. If Frank told the truth 
 he would say : ^ You have twenty thousand pounds, and I desire to 
 possess it, therefore marry me.' It is not probable that he will make 
 his approaches in this fashion. And if he does not he will lie. No 
 English gentleman can lie. 
 
 " Conclusion : No English gentleman can marry for money." 
 
 Hyland left his diary at this point. He was satisfied that he had 
 mastered the difficulties of the case, and when he dropped in at 
 Daltman's bungalow the next day, he was prepared to show his 
 friend the nature of the obstacles to his scheme. 
 
 He found Daltman spluttering defective Hindostanee to two na- 
 tive servants, who were busily employed in packing some valises, 
 strapping up a gun-case, and making other prejiarations for a move. 
 
 " Good news, Rayneford !" said Frank ; " my company is going 
 into the hill country — to Nuttagur station, in fact." 
 
 " Nuttagur?" answered Hyland ; " that is the new Sanitarium." 
 
 "Exactly. The major says you are to go also. Have you 
 received your orders ?" 
 
MR. DALTMAK 21 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, it's all right. Civil engineering, sketching, and all that 
 sort of thing. The major goes also. You will have a jolly time. 
 No military rules or duties, and plenty of girls to flirt with. The 
 Mordaunts are there, you know." 
 
 " The Mordaunts ?'"' 
 
 " Yes. Two charming ladies. Heiresses expectant. You and I 
 will toss up for the choice. Their chances are equal, and the old 
 gentleman is on his last legs." 
 
 " You may take them both," replied Ilyland ; " I have thought 
 over the matter, and reached a conclusion." 
 
 Daltinan drew up a camp-stool, which he handed to his visitor, 
 coolly kicked over a native, who was squatting on a refractory valise 
 that refused to be locked, turned it up endwise, and sat on it. He 
 then produced two cheroots, lighting one and handing the other to 
 Kayneford. 
 
 " Now, then," he said, " fire away ! What is your conclusion ?" 
 
 "An English gentleman cannot marry for money," said Hyland. 
 
 " Why do you restrict the prohibition to Englishmen ?" 
 
 " Because French gentlemen seem to marry in no other way," re- 
 plied Hyland; "I have not clearly decided whether or not their 
 marriages are proper. I may investigate that point another time. 
 But it is a clear case that an Englishman of good breed cannot hon- 
 ourably court a girl English fashion for the sake of her money." 
 
 " I understand !" ejaculated Daltman, after puffing at his cheroot 
 in silent meditation a few minutes; "you object to the love-making 
 and all that sort of thing. Why, my dear fellow, it is just like ' my 
 dear sir,' and 'yours truly,' in epistolary communications. They 
 don't mean anything. They don't deceive anybody. Now, these 
 French beggars go through a lot of ceremony just like ours, with 
 the difference in idiom. The suitor visits the lady with the most 
 elaborate formality and solicits the honour of an interview. The 
 lady tells him to give himself the pain of sitting down. The gen- 
 tlcn)an bows twice, takes a seat, and informs the object of his affec- 
 tions that he is desolated until he can bestow himself, his box at the 
 opera, his chateau, and his Paris house upon her. The lady ex- 
 ])resscs herself as charmed with the prospect, and begs to refer him 
 to monsieur, her papa. But we English don't go through all that 
 humbug exactly, though we do a different sort of humbug. We 
 get spoony, and read up poetry to quote, and scorn all mercenary 
 considerations. But in both cases, all the parties interested weigh 
 
22 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 the matter in business fashion. The mammas or papas settle the 
 business, and the rest is all ceremony." 
 
 " But what do you offer in exchange for the money ?" persisted 
 Hyland ; " I cannot see an equivalent." 
 
 " Equivalent ! Come, now, that's cool ! Don't a fellow give up 
 his liberty? A respectable Englishman is obliged to become a 
 galley slave when he marries. He must take his wife to balls and 
 operas. He must dine and sleep at home. He must go to church. 
 He must subscribe to all sorts of charities " 
 
 " And pay his subscriptions with his wife's money," interrupted 
 Hyland. 
 
 " Of course ! That is the worst part of the business. The reve- 
 nues are diverted from their natural channels. It is matrimony that 
 entails expense. Matrimony means an esti\blishment, and all sorts 
 of outlays unknown to bachelors. In fact, the married man is only 
 his wife's banker." 
 
 " With a liberal percentage allowed for his disbursements," said 
 Hyland. "You have not made out your case, Daltman. You 
 cannot marry a woman for money. You cannot sell a spavined 
 horse as sound." 
 
 " I've known some very respectable people to do that same," 
 muttered Daltman. 
 
 " Doubtless !" responded Hyland ; " but you cannot gain your 
 own consent to follow in their respectable footsteps. You may sell 
 any portable property you possess, except your self-respect. If I 
 were to marry a rich woman," he continued, growing more earnest 
 as he pi'oceeded, " it would be under the pressure of most extraor- 
 dinary circumstances, and I Avould never rest until I had settled her 
 entire estate upon herself!" 
 
 " I should like to hear some rational argument in support of your 
 theory," said Daltman ; " all you have said might point a moral or 
 adorn a tale — I mean a novel, you know — but none of that sort of 
 bosh will go down in real life. I challenge you to produce a soli- 
 tary case in English society that will illustrate such unmitigated 
 humbug! Usually, you have some philosophical formula where- 
 with to enforce your conclusions. Propound one here. Formulate !" 
 
 Hyland recalled to mind his recorded philosophy of the previous 
 day, and was about to present his major proposition, when the door 
 opened and a strange gentleman entered. He was a tall, slender 
 man, about thirty, pale and emaciated, and looked more feeble as he 
 supported himself with a stout cane, while he shuffled into the room. 
 
MR. GLEXDARE. 23 
 
 Hylaiul arose, and offered his camp-stool to the new-comer, who 
 accepted the seat with a courteous gesture. 
 
 He was apjnirently exhausted by the elFort at locomotion, and sat 
 quietly fanning himself with his hat, while Hylaud stood by, fur- 
 tively stuilying liis phicid countenance. Daltmau arose and took 
 the stranger's liat, substituting a palm-leaf fan. 
 
 " Ilayneford," said Daltman, " I am delighted to introduce my 
 friend, Mr. Glendare. You fellows should know each other, as you 
 are both alllicted with very similar forms of lunacy. You are in- 
 sane on the marriage question, and Glendare has nearly killed him- 
 self in the effort to convert a lot of these rascally Hindoos, under 
 the auspices of the Missionary Society. I believe he is regular, 
 though, representing the Church of England in this heathen land. 
 Mr. Hyland Rayneford, Glendare, a brother of Lord Ilayneford of 
 Hawkley." 
 
 The gentlemen shook hands. Hyland noted the firm grip of the 
 slender fingers, and the glance of intelligent appreciation, as the mis- 
 sionary's eyes met his. They were clear, blue eyes, full of expres- 
 sion, in spite of his physical feebleness, and in spite of the spectacles 
 that covered them. He wore a full beard, black and silky, and the 
 most prominent thought in Hyland's mind was the memory of an 
 old proverb, which he had heard in his boyish days : 
 
 " Black beard and blue eyes, 
 Very weak or very wise." 
 
 " In this instance," said Hyland to himself, " I will wager a 
 trifle that the weakness is physical only. The philosophy that might 
 stun Daltman will make no impression on Mr. Glendare !" 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 Mr. Glendare. 
 
 " T INTERRUPTED a discussion by my entrance," said Mr. 
 -A- Glendare. " I overheard Frank's bold challenge as I stood at 
 the door. Pray go on with it, wliile I recover ray breath. This is 
 my first walk, Mr. Rayneford, after a compulsory rest of six weeks." 
 There was a crisp accuracy of accent and intonation observable ia 
 his short speech that gave Hyland some other pieces of information. 
 
24 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Scottish!" he thought, "because no other nationality can produce 
 such crisp sentences. The great gentleness in his tones is due to the 
 piety. These missionary gentlemen must have an extraordinarv 
 quantity of piety to fit them for their work, and keep them at it, 
 especially in India." 
 
 "You do not look very vigourous," Hyland answered. "I sup- 
 pose your six weeks of * rest,' as you call it, was enjoined by the 
 doctor ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Daltman ; "regular fever — jungle fever, no doubt, 
 as Mr. Glendare took no end of pains to catch it. It would have 
 killed any other than a Caledonian. But he is not throutrh vet. 
 He is ordered to the hill country, and will follow us — how soon, 
 Hamish ?" 
 
 "I hope to accompany you," answered Mr. Glendare. 
 
 "We start to-morrow," said Daltman, "an hour before sunrise. 
 I should say you could not possibly go with us if I had not known 
 you to undertake and accomplish greater impossibilities." 
 
 "The undertaking is not so formidable. Colonel Mordaunt 
 says we shall go by easy stages. There are two companies of in- 
 fantry to go." 
 
 " Well," answered Daltman, " you can travel ' en prinae^ in a 
 palanquin " 
 
 " Not I," replied the invalid. " I am going on horseback until 
 I gather strength to walk. The doctor says two or three days will 
 set me up. But I desire to hear your debate. W^hen you say 
 ' formulate' I know there is a debate on the tapis. Recommence, 
 I beg you." 
 
 "I shall need your aid, Mr. Glendare," observed Hyland; "Frank 
 has enunciated certain heretical doctrines relating to matrimony, 
 and, as I hold opposite views, he challenges me to a controversy." 
 
 " Formulate !" reiterated Daltman ; " fire away, both of you ! I 
 engage to defeat your antiquated notions with a little common 
 sense, and an appeal to universal experience. Open the ball, 
 Rayneford !" 
 
 "An English gentleman cannot marry for money," said Hyland. 
 
 "That sounds like a quotation from the tables in the Prayer-book 
 — 'a man cannot marry his grandmother.' But I beg pardon. 
 Hamish, do you endorse Rayneford's postulate?" 
 
 "Allow me to moderate the session," said Mr. Glendare; "perhaps 
 I will give the casting vote. You have the floor. Answer Mr. 
 Rayneford." 
 
MR. GLENDARE. 25 
 
 " The answer is easy," replied Daltniaii, coiitt'inptiiously : " Enf>;- 
 li.sljtiicn do many for money every week in the year, excepting tiie 
 Lenten season, perhaps." 
 
 " I do not contradict yon," said Hyhmd. " I meant to say, an 
 Enijlisii gentleman wiio marries for money violates his hononr. He 
 obtains a wife under false pretences. He professes certain senti- 
 ments which he <loes not really entertain. He asserts a preference 
 for one woman over all other women in the world, when in reality 
 his attaclunent is to her bank-book. He theretbrc violates the 
 truth." 
 
 "You have a very bald way of stating things," said Daltman. 
 "This marrying business is not like ordinary atHiirs. Sentiments! 
 Pooh ! Of course a fellow is expected to profess a lot of sentiments, 
 but they do not deceive, and are not intended to deceive, anybody. 
 Under strict analysis they all fall into the same category of conven- 
 tional usage, which requires politeness from a gentleman, even when 
 he is about to cut another fellow's throat. Now, wlien you marry a 
 woman you give her the worth of her money. You give her your 
 name, your protection, a certain place in society which she could not 
 reach as a spinster. Mrs. Frank Daltman would be a welcome guest 
 in a score of houses which she could never enter as Miss Snooks, 
 if she had forty thousand pounds at her back. Bleas you ! she 
 knows what she gets for her money. Sentiments ! Of course ! 
 You are miserable except when in her society. You think of her 
 all day, and dream of her all night. All that humbug is part of 
 the game. It is just like 'your obedient servant' at the end of a 
 letter." 
 
 "Do you keep up the delusion after marriage?" said Hyland. 
 
 " Yes ! that is, to a certain extent. You are not expected to be 
 spoony beyond the honeymoon, but you must keep up the ordinary 
 civilities of life. The money is now in joint ownership. The style 
 in which it enables you to live is a part of Madame's life, as well as 
 yours. Mrs. Daltman expects Mr. Daltman to frequent expensive 
 clubs, and to indulge in many little elegancies which were denied in 
 his bachelorhood. Mr. Daltman takes Madame to the opera, to the 
 Continent, to the Nile " 
 
 " And provides a maid to wait upon her, jxaying her wages from 
 Madame's revenues. It is a sorry sort of business, Frank. I shall 
 argue with you no longer. You sneer at sentiments, and your pre- 
 matrimonial profession of them is hypocrisy. I cannot conceive how 
 a man that ever had a mother can hold such utterly selfish theories 
 
26 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 regarding women. And I tell you, frankly, that I am sorry for 
 Mrs. Daltman in advance." 
 
 Mr. Daltman laughed. 
 
 " If Mr. Rayneford relinquishes the cudgel," said Mr. Glendare, 
 in soft accents, " I think I shall take it up." 
 
 " Formulate !" responded Daltman, defiantly. 
 
 " Mr. Rayneford's proposition was too broad," continued the mis- 
 sionary, " or he would have made a stronger argument." 
 
 "State it in your own fashion," replied Daltman; " only don't 
 draw your arguments from the Prayer-book. I want a philosophical 
 statement." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Glendare, gently, " there are two sorts of philos- 
 ophy. One is the sort taught by Zeno, Epicurus, and other wortiiies 
 of antiquity, and this has recently come into fashion again, with some 
 slight modifications. The other is the philosophy of Christian na- 
 tions, and is more or less in accordance with the doctrines of Revela- 
 tion. The main difference between the two, as I apprehend, is in 
 the acceptance or rejection of the doctrine of a personal Deity, who 
 has created, and therefore governs." 
 
 " Ah !" said Daltman, " let us confine ourselves to civilized society. 
 You cannot inveigle me into the misty regions of Epicurian philoso- 
 phy ! There you would be at home, no doubt, while I only remem- 
 ber with a shudder my youthful explorations in that direction when 
 they were compulsory. I only meant to object to 'goody' talk. It 
 is all right in church, you know, but Rayneford has not made his 
 fight on moral grounds." 
 
 " I think he has," replied Mr. Glendare. " His main point, in- 
 deed his only point, relates to the obligation to tell the truth. You 
 cannot get along very well, Frank, without dipping a little into 
 moral philosophy." 
 
 " Sail on, then," said Daltman, discontentedly. " I promise to 
 listen politely anyhow." 
 
 Mr. Glendare laughed. " I am not going to preach, so do not 
 look so woebegone. The doctor has forbidden preaching for three 
 months. If I had only to draw my arguments from Holy Writ, 
 you would be utterly demolished by a few quotations." 
 
 " Go on with your moral philosophy," replied Daltman ; " I am ' 
 curious to see how you will mix it up with matrimony." 
 
 " Well, then, give heed," said the missionary. " All obligations 
 that affect intelligent creatures are founded upon Relations. Because 
 of the Relations subsisting between God and man, as Creator and crea- 
 
MR. G LEND ARK 27 
 
 ture, man is bouiul to serve and honour God. Because of the brother- 
 hood of the race, man is bound to conserve the interests of liis 
 brotlier man. This is the foundation ])ostuhxte. These obligations 
 are modified and au«;mented by the variations in the Kehitions. If 
 God is recognized not only as a Maker, but also as a Father, you 
 see how much more urgently the obligation to obedience and rever- 
 ence presses upon the child. And if the mere brotherhood of race 
 is elevated into blood-kinship, you see how much more emphatic the 
 obligation to kindness between the children of one household." 
 
 " All that is rational !" quoth Daltman, as Mr. Glendare paused. 
 
 "These are natural obligations," continued the missionary ; "they 
 are not confined to Christendom or to civilized society. The au- 
 thority of the Father is recognised among savage tribes. The Carib 
 jealously guards the decaying bones of his ancestry, which is a proof 
 of the universality of the law, because the Carib manifests scarcely 
 any other glimmer of moral sense. And it is the indestructible frag- 
 ment of the original Law written upon the Nature of Man at crea- 
 tion. Because the Fathirhood of Man is but the shadow of the 
 universal Fatherhood of God. 
 
 "Concerning the obligations that affect human society merely, 
 you will not deny the superior claims of brotherhood over mere 
 neighbourhood. The sons of one father are more to each other than 
 mere acquaintances and friends." 
 
 "Certainly!" responded Frank. "All that you have said is on 
 my side of the argument. A fellow is justified in marrying a rich 
 woman, because he will be more able to help his family out of her 
 revenues." 
 
 " I have not quite concluded," said Mr. Glendare, gently; "there 
 are other relations, involving other obligations." 
 
 " Ah, well," replied Daltman, " I did not intend to interrupt you. 
 Pray excuse me and proceed." 
 
 " Somehow it has come to pass," said Glendare, after a brief pause, 
 "that the marriage relation is understood to involve more intimacy 
 — a greater identity of interest, than any other. The current idea 
 in civilized society affixes to this relation such closeness of union 
 as does not attach, for instance, to the relation subsisting between 
 mother and child. Whenever this identity of interest is lacking, 
 somehow the common idea of humanity regards the union of husband 
 and wife as a sham or a fraud." 
 
 " Plenty of such cases," ejaculated Frank, " among my personal 
 acquaintances." 
 
28 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " No doubt !" replied Mr. Glendare, " and I dare say you have 
 thought in your hicid intervals that these cases were a mere 
 caricature of marriage?" 
 
 "AVell, yes!" said Daltman ; "a fellow would be a jolly fool to 
 get into a mess of that sort. My loose notions of matrimony, as 
 Eayneford calls them, do not include anything indecorous. I only 
 object to putting spoons in the place of money. Spoons are not 
 objectionable, of course, provided the revenues are all right; but 
 spoons are poor substitutes for pounds, shillings, and pence." 
 
 " You bring me to the culmination," replied the missionary ; " I 
 instanced the current judgment of society, because such judgment is 
 usually founded upon truth. There must be in all true marriages 
 such an identity as can only exist between one man and one woman. 
 That is: they must both be fully persuaded that no other being in 
 the wide universe is so dear as the life partner. It has never seemed 
 to me that the exhortations to mutual forbearance, to mutual self- 
 denial, to mutual patience were decorous. Because the interests are 
 identical, and it has always seemed like exhorting a man to make 
 his eyes direct his hands. If man and wife are not one in such a 
 measure of unity as attaches to no other relation — then they are two 
 separate monsters." 
 
 " That is all very fine," said Daltman, " but what has it all to do 
 with the argument?" 
 
 " Only this. Mr. Rayneford's postulate stated that an English 
 gentleman could not marry for money. My conclusion is : that no 
 man can marry for anything except the inexorable demand of his 
 soul, that craves the companionship of one elect womau out of all 
 the women on earth. He cannot choose between two women, if he 
 is a true man ; indeed, it is not a matter of choice at all. It is only 
 the cognition of the fact that he has found the predestined partner 
 of his life. It is a cognition through the God-given faculty ot 
 intuition, irrespective of argument, motive, or appeal. He loves her. 
 It is not the sort of stuif that you call ^spoons.' It is the earnest 
 conviction of his soul that she must be his wife, or his entire life 
 must be a blank. In so far as the purpose of God in his creation 
 terminates upon sublunary things — he feels that he was created for 
 the solitary purpose of protecting, defending, comforting this one 
 woman. All other human obligations are subsidiary. And finally, 
 in Holy "Writ, this relation is invested with such awful sanctity, 
 that it is the one relation constantly selected to illustrate the union 
 of the Eedeemer and the redeemed. And the sins of Apostasy and 
 
MILES. 29 
 
 Idolatry are constantly represented as violations of the marriage 
 covenant. So the common sentiment of nu-n amont:; the wisest and 
 the best, and the revealed decree of God, nnite in placing the mar- 
 riage relation in the front rank among all the relations of earth. It 
 would be more rational for you to say you would not accept a mother 
 unless she were rich, than to say you would not accept a wife until 
 you knew the extent of hej- rent-roll. You may make a legal con- 
 tract, binding vou to give your name to a woman, and to live with 
 her as husband and wife — but except upon the conditions I have 
 stated, you will not only dishonour yourself as an English gentleman, 
 but vou will deny and degrade your manhood! There is the noon 
 gun ! Mr. Ivayncford, you are going my way. JSIay I take your 
 arm?" 
 
 CHAPTER y. 
 
 • INIlLES. 
 
 THERE came a letter from Hyland to Lord Rayneford a few 
 months after the events last narrated. It was an odd mixture 
 of youthful philosophy with more or less graphic accounts of Hy- 
 land's adventures in tlie hill country. There were also whimsical 
 descriptions of his new acquaintances among the military men and 
 civilians, and specially a florid description of a Mr. Glendare, whose 
 excellent traits were once and again eulogised as being the more 
 remarkable because of Mr. Glendare's concurrent piety. *' How a 
 missionary," wrote Hyland, *'and a Scottish miasionary, and a Pres- 
 byterian Episcopalian to boot, can be so wise and philosophical 
 staggers me ! It overturns many of my pet theories. Probaljly 
 Mr. Glendare is the exception that proves the universality of the 
 contrary rule." 
 
 Then there were some cautious allusions to !Mr. Daltman. Hy- 
 land was too thoroughbred to write uncomplimentary things about 
 his associates. So he confined his references to Frank's exploits in 
 field and jungle, his elegant dancing, or his easy mastery of Hindo- 
 stanee. This led to some slight talk aljout the ladies, as Frank was 
 paying devoted court to Miss Mordaunt, the reigning belle of the 
 Sanitarium. An invalid of great beauty, and of considerable pros- 
 pective wealth. Daughter of Colonel Mordaunt, commanding the 
 station. 
 
30 THE CLIFTON PICTURE: 
 
 " When we came up here," said tlie letter, " Frank told me there 
 were two Miss Mordaunts, and kindly offered one of them to me. 
 I did not clearly see how he obtained the right of transfer, but he 
 is one of your vcni, vidi, vici fellows. I found on my arrival that 
 the other was a shy, angular girl, ten years younger than her sister, 
 and totally ineligible, of course. The sly rascal gave me a choice 
 of names: Haidee and Juliet. I selected Haidee, because I inwardly 
 shudder at the bare idea of a Juliet. Well, Juliet is the elder, the 
 belle and the heiress. Poor little Haidee is a nonentity. I i)osi- 
 tively do not know what she is like, and I am thinking of alimony. 
 
 "Talking of alimony, old Miles, I have reached a definite conclu- 
 sion. I shall never marry — I dare not! I have talked with Glen- 
 dare about it scores of times, and between us we have exhausted 
 the topic. There are two reasons that make my conclusion : first, I 
 have never seen a woman that I would be willing to marry. I have 
 never met the woman who could awaken within me the emotions a 
 gentleman must experience before he dares encounter matrimony; 
 second, I honestly believe there is no such woman on the surface of 
 this planet, and if there were I could not ask her to marry me, 
 because I could offer no equivalent. Glendare quotes sometimes : 
 
 ' I bear i' my belt a gude braidsword, 
 And I'll tak' dunts frae naebody !' 
 
 and I give the quotation because it expresses my feeling in some 
 measure. That is: I will marry none but the very best of her sex, 
 and I will not place myself under the life-long obligation to the 
 peerless woman who might throw herself away upon me. Don't 
 you see, Miles, that I am hedged in on two sides? Frank insists 
 that the obligation is reciprocal ; that the husband merits the wife's 
 devotion because he gives her protection, counsel, status as a matron, 
 and a multitude of self-abnegations. But he does not count the 
 transfers on the other side. A wife yields her very identity. She 
 is no longer a personality. In a few years shy little Haidee will be 
 a woman — Miss Mordannt. But if I confirm Frank's plan, and 
 marry her, she will only be Mrs. Hyland Rayneford. And if I get 
 my lac (which has actually begun to grow), and some more lacs, 
 even enough to outweigh as many lacs as her sire leaves her — still, 
 I cannot outweigh the tremendous enunciations through which she 
 must pass to wifehood. 
 
 " I'll none of it !" 
 
 Lord Rayneford laid down the letter at this point, and meditated. 
 
MILES. 31 
 
 "The boy is in dead earnest," he thought, "and he is telling me 
 the exact shade of thought that possesses him. What an odd mix- 
 ture of whim and nobleness he is! I can hardly believe him en- 
 tirely insensible to Mildred's attractions, yet I have never heard one 
 word from him about her. He says he has never met the woman 
 whose attractions were sufficient to kindle his aH'ections. Then he 
 has none to kindle!" Reaching this conclusion, he took up his 
 brother's letter and ])roceeded. 
 
 *' Now you are rciidy to ask why I do not relinquish the lac and 
 return to England? If I have forsworn matrimony, my thousand 
 j)Ounds may be considered affluence. What can si single fellow want 
 that a thousand a year will not purchase? This is a very sensible 
 question. Miles. And I will be frank with you, brother, and tell 
 you my exact thought upon this topic also. 
 
 " This money ci\me to me by inheritance. I have earned none of 
 it, and therefore I cannot enjoy it! I must get another thousand 
 a year with my own hands, and then I will give away the old 
 one. Do you know that I got my fortune through the operation of 
 a will made by our maternal grandfather ? No doubt you know 
 this. But do you know that this special thousand was set apart by 
 Lord Hyland, because his father had so devised it, when our mother 
 was in infant days? Now I am not going to take money that was 
 thus saddled upon me two generations ago. Two generations before 
 I was born ! 
 
 " I'll none of it ! 
 
 " For you see, Miles, it is really your money. If there had not 
 been this tyrannical old will in the way, the beneficent law of primo- 
 geniture would have secured it to you. It belongs to the estate. 
 It would pay off those abominable mortgages! Take it. Miles!" 
 
 "The boy is distracted," said Lord llayneford, pausing once 
 more. "The Indian sun has turned his brain; I must write him 
 another letter." And he seized writing materials and dashed in 
 mcdias res. 
 
 " My dear Hyland," he began, " I have already mailed you an 
 eight-page letter to-day; but your last missive, just received, demands 
 a prompt reply. You were always more or less demented, my boy, 
 but this last exhibition of lunacy alarms me. My money, indeed ! 
 Now heed me. Master Hylatid ! If you take any steps to dispossess 
 yourself, or if I am so unhappy as to outlive you, and so inherit 
 your thirty thousand pounds, I vow that I will give the money to 
 some lunatic asylum. This would be an appropriate monument to 
 
32 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 your memory, you dear old goose ! Do not trouble yourself about 
 the mortgages. One is paid, and I am accumulating funds to ])ay 
 the other. When you bring that lac home, I think it very probable 
 that I shall be as rich as you. I have a scheme in mind that has 
 grown into definite shape since your letter arrived. I think of })aving 
 off all my encumbrances by one coup. I ciuinot trust it to tiie mail, 
 but a sentence in your letter has given coherence to certain vague 
 purposes, and I think I shall begin my exj)eriment at once. 
 
 " The sentence I refer to is your unequivocal declaration that you 
 have never met the woman you would marry. Then you do not 
 love Mildred, and I do ! There, brother ! you have the only secret 
 I have ever kept from you. I have admired Miss Carey all my life, 
 and would have told her so long ago, only I thought you, Hyland, 
 were also smitten. And now your letter assures me that you are 
 heart-whole. I could never play rival to you, but if you do not 
 yield homage to her charms, I am free to court her on my own 
 account. 
 
 " And I'll do it !" 
 
 When Hyland received the letter, his comment upon this tender 
 passage was — " Poor old Miles !" 
 
 However, Lord Rayneford drove over to Brentam Villa that same 
 afternoon. Hyland's letter would be entertaining to Miss Carey. 
 He would read some passages to her, especially his remarks about 
 Frank, and if opportunity served, he would read what Hyland said 
 about matrimony, also. 
 
 He met Mr. Brentam as he pa&sed through the gates of Hawkley. 
 The old gentleman was astride his black cob, his groom trotting 
 soberly behind him. 
 
 " Ah !" said Mr. Brentam, " this is a fortunate meeting. You are 
 going to the Villa?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Rayneford. " I have a letter from Hyland, and 
 I thought you would like to hear what he says of Mr. Daltman." 
 
 " Certainly ! And if you will take me up in your drag, I will 
 send my horse home. Ah ! this is superb weather ; never saw hops 
 so promising. Here, Tom ! take Sultan home. And, Rayneford, 
 let us drive down by the mills. It is a little longer, but I Avaut you 
 to see my hops. How is Frank ? How is Hyland ?" 
 
 " Both well. They are at a Sanitarium in the hill country." 
 
 " Yes. Wish they were here. At least, I wish Hyland — no use 
 though, it would take too long to get him home, even if he would 
 come ! I have a scheme, better than anything in India." 
 
MILES. 33 
 
 " Why, I have a scheme as well," said Lord Rayneford, laughing, 
 "and I intended consulting you about it this very day." 
 
 "Ah, but mine is a money-making scheme; a commercial scheme, 
 and Ilvland would make an excellent partner. I^et me hear your 
 scheme, and I will reveal mine." 
 
 " In confidence then," said Lord Rayneford, " I have thought I 
 might better my fortunes by incurring a little risk, personal and 
 monetary." 
 
 " Well ?" said Mr. Brentam. 
 
 " I thought I could take a cargo to America, and bring back a 
 cargo of cotton " 
 
 " Running the blockade!" 
 
 " Exactly ! Do not look so astonished. The risks are not nearly 
 so great as one might suppose. I only require a navigator who 
 knows the coast — a cargo that will be certain of ready sale — say in 
 Charleston or Savannah, and a ship that can outsail the cruisers that 
 blockade the port ; a steamer, in fact." 
 
 " And a supercargo," added Mr. Brentam. " Where will you find 
 a trustworthy supercargo ?" 
 
 " Here," replied Rayneford, laying his hand on his own breast. 
 
 They rode along in silence a mile or more. Miles, who was 
 greatly discouraged by his companion's grave face, began to discover 
 a hundred objections to his scheme that had not occurred to him be- 
 fore. It was the more humiliating to have his folly revealed to 
 him, by the few crisp sentences he expected, from the keen business 
 man, who was also Mildred's uncle. 
 
 " This is most extraordinary !" ejaculated Mr. Brentam, at length ; 
 "where did you pick up this scheme of yours?" 
 
 " Hawkley is encumbered, Mr. Brentam," replied Miles, "and I 
 am most eager to free the estate from debt. One or two ventures 
 like that I have named would, if successful, do all I hope for." 
 
 " And if not successful ?" 
 
 " Then I should be obliged to practice economy so long, that an- 
 other purpose I entertain would have to be relinquished. I may as 
 well tell you at once. I would ask Miss Carey to be my wife if my 
 estate were free. But I cannot ask her to marry me while my 
 revenue is so slender." 
 
 "Mildred has — some money of her own," said ^Tr, Brontam, 
 cautiously ; "as her guardian, I should be very glad to give her and 
 her fortune into your custody, Rayneford. Have you spoken to her ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! It would not be decorous to do so without your 
 
 8 
 
34 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 consent. It is true that I expected to have your sympathy and 
 your approval. You have been so kind and have encouraged me so 
 constantly. But my poverty is an insurmountable barrier." 
 
 " Suppose you ask her ?" 
 
 " If my scheme is feasible — if you, with your experience, can en- 
 dorse it — if you think it wise to risk as many thousand pounds as I 
 can raise upon this venture — I will endeavour to learn Miss Carey's 
 sentiments. But you evidently think otherwise." 
 
 " Young men are always rash !" quoth Mr. Brentam, " always ! 
 When I was twenty-five, I was rash as you are noM'. And I gained 
 conservatism through dismal experiences of failure. But I learned 
 something else. I learned that obstacles and unfavourable criti- 
 cisms should never divert one from the accomplishment of a set 
 purpose." 
 
 " I do not understand you," said the other. 
 
 " I mean to say you cannot have formed a plan of this magnitude 
 without considerable thought. And yet you appear ready to relin- 
 quish your purpose at the appearance of the first obstacle. And 
 that exists only in your fancy !" 
 
 " You mystify me still more," said Lord Rayneford. 
 
 "Do I?" replied his companion, with a chuckle; "then know 
 that your scheme is mine ! I have the vessel in my mind. She is 
 in the port of Glasgow this minute, and is for sale. I know the 
 navigator. I know what cargo will prove most certainly profitable, 
 and I regretted Hyland's absence, because I wanted him for super- 
 cargo. You are an excellent substitute, only " 
 
 " Only what ?" said Miles, eagerly. 
 
 " Only English noblemen don't usually go prowling on the seas 
 hunting money." 
 
 " But I shall become plain Mr. Rayneford — or Mr. Miles, until I 
 get the money. I have spoken to no one but you, and we can keep 
 the secret." 
 
 " There's my hand !" said Mr. Brentam, " and now — mum !" 
 
MILDRED. 35 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 Mildred. 
 
 <' IV/TUM" was a very good word at this juncture, as an equcs- 
 
 -LV_L trian jiartv surrounded the dog-cart at the close of the 
 dialogue just recounted. Miss Mildred Carey led the cavalcade, 
 consisting of half a dozen ladies and gentlemen, all laughing and 
 talking at once. 
 
 " ^^'e thought you were asleep !" she said, as she reined her horse 
 alongside the vehicle. " Good-afternoon, Lord Rayneford ! We 
 have followed you a mile, and you have never once looked back ! 
 What in the world were you discussing so earnestly ?" 
 
 " Mr. Brentam selected this route to exhibit his hop-field," an- 
 swered Miles, deceitfully. " It is beautiful." 
 
 "Did you see it?" enquired Miss Carey. 
 
 " Yes — no — tliat is, I only glanced at it." 
 
 "A very cursory view, I imagine," retorted the lady. "You 
 have just passed the field, and you did not turn your lead." 
 
 " His head was already turned, Mildred," said her uncle. " I 
 have been giving him a lecture on the rashness of youth." 
 
 " Thrown away on Rayncford !" ejaculated Mr. Sedley, a spruce 
 cavalier who rode on Miss Carey's right. " He never was rash since 
 I have known him." 
 
 " But I am growing reckless," replied Lord Rayneford, looking 
 into the sparkling eyes of Mildred; "and am now meditating a 
 desperate deed." 
 
 " Going to stand for the borough ?" said Mr. Sedley. 
 
 " Not I." 
 
 " Going over to Cork to join the steeple-chase for gentlemen 
 riders ?" 
 
 " No, indeed." 
 
 "You are certainly not going to bet on the new horse?" 
 
 " No. I shall not bet on anything." 
 
 " Well !" said Mr. Sedley, " I can think of no other desperate 
 game — that is— except matrimony! By Jove! I have guessed it!" 
 
 Miles reddened a little, then laughed. The ladies — there were 
 three of them — exchanged glances, and stole furtive looks at Mil- 
 dred, all unconscious. It was totally in vain that Rayneford sought 
 for some encouraging token in her countenance. Every one else in 
 the party was certain that Miss Carey was the object of the young 
 
36 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 nobleman's attachment, if he really entertained serious intentions, 
 but she gave no sign to him or to any one else. 
 
 " Speaking of matrimony," she said, quietly, " I received a letter 
 from Frank to-day, in which he informs me that your brother is 
 preparing to enter that honoured state." 
 
 " Hyland ?" answered Miles. " Why, I have a letter from him 
 to-day, which I brought over to show you." 
 
 " Let us ride on, then," said Mildred, shaking her rein. " We 
 will meet you at the Villa and compare notes. If Mr. Rayneford 
 has not revealed his intentions to you, it looks very suspicious. 
 Come on, Mr. Sedley ! We will ride round by the mills. Au 
 revoir .'" 
 
 "I think," said Mr. Brentam, as the gay party disappeared down 
 the lane leading to the mills — " I think we will be wise if we drive 
 back and get to the Villa before them. We shall have the advantage 
 of a mile if we take the village road. I have all the details of the 
 blockade-running scheme in my library, and we should decide and 
 act promptly if we act at all." 
 
 " You surprise and charm me, ]Mr. Brentam," said Rayneford ; 
 " I am more than ever in love with the adventure, and feel more 
 confident of success since you approve." 
 
 " Do not be too sanguine, Rayneford,'' replied his more sober 
 companion ; " there are difficulties to be surmounted, and many 
 things to be considered. There is always the risk of a total loss. 
 Do not forget that. Wait until you see my paper." 
 
 The conference in the library was prolonged until the visitors had 
 all departed. Mr. Brentam had fairly set down all the arguments 
 for and against the scheme. Blockade-running was still in its in- 
 fancy. Miles stipulated for absolute secrecy, to which proposition 
 Mr. Brentam heartily agreed. Rayneford was to become Mr. Miles 
 to-morrow, and to sail within ten days, for " Nassau and a market." 
 Mr. Brentam was to undertake all the details, furnish all the capital, 
 and give the supercargo a third of the net profits. 
 
 "Xow, Miles," said the elder, as they concluded their interview, 
 "you have an excellent chance. The 'Nellie' is a good ship — a 
 fast sailor, and is now in the Clyde. Your ignorance of commercial 
 matters is in your favour. There is nothing to do but get the best 
 prices for what you sell, and pay the least for what you buy. You 
 have nothing to buy except cotton. Your brokers in Charlei5ton 
 will arrange all minor details. You are prudent and brave, and I 
 am sure caution and pluck will bring you out. I will add that you 
 
MILDRED. 37 
 
 are the only young man I know, except Hyland, that I would trust. 
 Now go see Mildred." 
 
 " As to the mutter of secrecy," said Miles, pausing at the door, 
 " I suppose Miss Carey must be the exception ?" 
 
 " I think there should be no exception," replied Mr. Brentixm. 
 
 " I hope to (K'oupy such a j>ositiou its to " 
 
 " Humbug !" interrupted the other ; " you would not tell your wife 
 evcrvthing?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, you would not be wise. There are many things that a 
 man should not tell his wife. Such as other people's secrets, for 
 example. Now, I am specially anxious to keep my share of this 
 adventure secret." 
 
 " But your niece? " 
 
 "Specially secret from her! Da as you please, however. Only 
 have a clear understanding before you tell." 
 
 Lord Rayneford found Mildred alone in the drawing-room. She 
 was reading Daltman's letter. Miles took Hyland's letter from his 
 pocket and sat down beside her. 
 
 " Xow, Miss Carey," said he, " we will compare notes as you sug- 
 gested. What does your cousin say about Hyland ?" 
 
 " I thought I would show you the letter," she replied, " but I 
 find Frank has written ' private and confidential' at the top of the 
 page." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Rayneford, with a pang of jealousy. 
 
 " Yes. But I may tell you that he and your brother have found 
 two charming sisters in India. Frank has made satisfactory pro- 
 gress with the elder, and Mr, Rayneford — but that is the part I 
 should consider confidential." 
 
 " Ah ! Well, I am not under so stringent an obligation," said 
 Lord Rayneford. " Hyland declares himself heart-whole. The 
 younger sister is a mere child " 
 
 " Indeed !" replied Miss Carey. " "Well, this is what Frank says." 
 And she read from the letter : " "We had a kind of toss-u)) before 
 we arrived, and Rayneford won Miss Haidee. He is always lucky. 
 She is rather young, but a lady of great promise and prosjiects. The 
 old colonel will cut up well. Of course, I think Miss Juliet beyond 
 compare. Still, Rayneford is in luck, as his prize is just in his style, 
 dreamy and romantic. She has no end of queer notions, and be- 
 lieves in chivalry, and all that sort of humbug. And my friend 
 Rayneford is just full of the same kind of stutf. You should hear 
 
38 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 him talk about reciprocal obligations. He is in the same style as 
 Hamish. By-the-bye, Hamish is developing wonderfully " 
 
 " Hamish ?" said Miles. " Hyland does not mention him." 
 
 " Mr. Glendare," explained Mildred ; " he is a missionary who 
 was asked up to the hill country for his health." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Glendare! My letter is filled with his j^raises. I 
 imagine he must be a very superior man, as Hyland is not usually 
 lavish of his commendations." 
 
 " He is related to us, and has always been a good friend to 
 Frank." 
 
 There was something in Miss Carey's tones that aroused the jealousy 
 of her comj)anion. He was a man of direct honesty, and after a 
 few minutes' reflection, he plunged. 
 
 " You did not ask what desperate venture I had in my mind ?" 
 
 She looked at him steadily, without reply. 
 
 "I thought you might have seen it in my eyes," he continued, "or 
 that you had long ago discovered my admiration of you. I do not 
 know what are the proper words to employ — except to ask you to 
 be my wife. If professions of ardent attachment should be made, 
 I fear I cannot put my thoughts into appro})riate words. I " 
 
 "Lord Rayneford," said Mildred, interrupting him, "I beg you 
 will say no more. You distress me greatly." 
 
 "I would not willingly do that," said Miles; "am 1 to under- 
 stand you as rejecting my suit " 
 
 " Do not say that, I beg you," said Mildred ; " y"OU are so truthful 
 and honest, that I know you are serious. But let us agree to con- 
 sider your proposal a jest. I beg you !" she continued, as he was 
 about to speak — " you do not know how it pains me." 
 
 " Have you never suspected my sentiments, Mildred?" 
 
 " I have feared you had some — some liking for me, my lord, but 
 I hoped it would pass away. I entertain so high a regard for you 
 that I could not refuse your attentions. Besides, I could not know 
 certainly that your feelings were more than friendly." 
 
 " I am such a novice," said Lord R,ayneford, after a short pause, 
 " that I do not know whether to accept this answer as final or not. 
 I should have spoken years ago but for two reasons." 
 
 She looked at him enquiringly, and he continued : 
 
 " I thought Hyland loved you until to-day, and I did not dare to 
 think of you while he was in the way. But this letter assures me 
 of my mistake. And when I read his assurance, which I know to 
 be true, that he had never met the woman he would marry, I came 
 
MILDRED. 39 
 
 directly to you. The other mxrioii was my poverty. And even now 
 my estate is sadly encumbered, but I hope for entire deliverance 
 iVum debt in the near future. And indeed I meant ray proposal to 
 contain this condition— that your acceptance should be contingent 
 
 upon mv success ' 
 
 - My' lord, vou insult me !" said Mildred, haughtily. Then, see- 
 in.r the pained expression upon his handsome visage, she arose and 
 hdd out her hand to him. " Forgive me, Miles ! We have l)een 
 friends from childhood, and your preference for me is the most flat- 
 tering tribute I have ever received. Let us be friends still. If I 
 couK? love you as vou deserve, and as I mmi love the man I marry, I 
 would be proud to be your wife, and no gifts of fortune could aifect 
 mv regard for you. And it is only because I know this to be 
 iniposJible, that I decline the great honour you offer me so peremp- 
 torily. It can never be. Miles! Nay, my friend, do not say another 
 word. I have no heart to give'you !" And she put her slender 
 fingers over her eyes to repress the sudden tears that trickled through 
 
 them. 
 
 Lord Rayneford kissed the hand she had placed in his, and, 
 drawing it upon his arm, took up his hat. 
 
 "Come," he said, with courteous kindness— " come out on the 
 lawn. We will not renew this subject. We have known each other 
 too long to be other than friends. And I think I can labour for 
 your happiness— after a while— even if some other fellow should 
 succeed wiien I have failed. Dry your eyes and come out. Your 
 uncle is there. We will not annoy him with our— our quarrel! 
 And, good-bye, Mildred. I am going away for a time. Not on 
 account of this— quarrel of ours, I assure you. Mr. Brentam, I 
 must say adieu. I am going to take a short journey to-night." 
 
 Five minutes later, as Miles climbed into his dog-cart, Mr. 
 Brentam sidled up to him. 
 
 " Did you tell Mildred about your adventure?" he asked. 
 
 " Not a word. If you keep the secret, no one except ourselves 
 will know of Mr. Miles' departure. I shall wait at Glasgow for 
 your letter." 
 
40 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The "Nellie." 
 
 ON the first day of September, just as the sun touclied the edge 
 of the western horizon, the sharp-eyed skipper of the "Nellie," 
 screw steamer, saw the topmasts of four war-ships, two of them 
 rising and falling on the restless tide, at the entrance to Charleston 
 harbour. The other two were evidently standing out to sea, and the 
 last glimpse the captain caught of them, by the fading light, showed 
 their masts in line on both bows of the "Nellie," indicating their 
 approach to the exact spot his vessel occupied. What wind there 
 was came directly from the coast, and the " Nellie" did not show a rag 
 of canvas. But the two war-ships spread their topsails to the gentle 
 breeze, while the black smoke from their funnels stained the golden 
 sky above the low line of the South Carolina coast. 
 
 Captain Sparks was in the foretop, and the supercargo stood near 
 him holding on by the shrouds. They had each taken a steady look 
 through the glass, in the last minutes of daylight, and when the 
 approaching ships had disappeared in the gathering gloom, the two 
 men descended to the deck and walked aft without exchanging a 
 word. Seating themselves on the edge of the after-hatch, the cap- 
 tain comforted himself with a large slice of plug tobacco, while 
 the other waited with exemplary patience for an expression of his 
 opinion. 
 
 " Wa-al, Mr. Miles," said the skipper, at last, " them's the same 
 two fellers as give us a chase off Nassau." 
 
 "Do you recognise them, captain?" 
 
 "Ya-as! And you may just bet your bottom dollar that they 
 recognise us, too. Now we've got to move along party lively, one 
 way or t'other. Mr. Brown !" 
 
 The mate came aft at the call. 
 
 "Mr. Brown, just go 'round to every man on board and give 
 strict orders : Fust. No lights of any kind ; no pipes or cigars. 
 Second. No jawin' after the next half-hour. If anybody has got 
 any gab in his locker that won't keep, let him get it off at oncet. At 
 half-past seven I'll muzzle every mother's son of 'em, if they speak 
 above a whisper." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir !" responded the mate. 
 
 " Git along, then, and give your orders. Now, Mr. Miles, yonder's 
 Charleston, off the starboard bow. There is two blazers lay in' off 
 
THE '^NELLIEr 41 
 
 and on, a mile this side the bar. Tiiere's two more blazers boarin' 
 right down on us. I crave to know what you propose to do?" 
 
 " I intend to obey your orders, captain," responded the supercargo. 
 
 "But I'm under yourn! Will you risk the run to-night, or shall 
 ■we turn tail and skeet out to sea, or run down the coast and try for 
 Savanny ?" 
 
 "I leave all to your judgment, captain," replied the supercargo. 
 " I do not wish to incur any needless risk, but should like to land." 
 
 " Risk !" resjwnded the caj)tain. " It's a risky business all 
 through ! If them fellers overhaul us, good-bye to sliip and cargo ! 
 Confistication is the word. I s'pose you knowed that when you 
 started on this cruise ?" 
 
 "Certainly. But I relied upon Captain Sparks so entirely, and 
 have seen so many evidences of his skill and acuteness on the voyage, 
 that I feel tolerably confident still." 
 
 " Wa-al," said the captain, with a grin of satisfaction, " I'll do my 
 level best. This is my guess. Them cruisers have sighted us, of 
 course. We could not see them without their seein' us. They are 
 bearin' straight down on us this minnit." 
 
 " That seems very probable." 
 
 " Well, now to dodge 'em ag'in. Off Nassau, I concluded they 
 would spread out, so I run right between 'em. Now, you can't fool 
 'em twicet with the same trick, so I propose to put the helm hard-a- 
 j)ort, to run an hour due noath, then head for the coast ag'in, and 
 run in. We'll git round that feller on the starboard bow, and while 
 he is runnin' east, we'll be goin' west. Not likely to run afoul of 
 each other this week !" 
 
 " But the two steamers at the mouth of the harbor?" 
 
 " They'll be watchin' out for signals. And while they're gapin' 
 out to seaward, I propose to run in between 'em." 
 
 " I am content, Captain Sparks. What shall I do?" 
 
 " I would say, git down in thejcabin and turn in." 
 
 " Many thanks, captain. I prefer the deck." 
 
 " There may be some old iron flyin' round here, promiscuous-like," 
 said the captiiin, in a hoarse whisper. " It is most likely they'll catch 
 sight of the 'Nellie,' and if they do, you may bet your last stamp 
 that they'll want a closer acquaintance. Now, I don't propose to 
 stop when they tell me. In fact, I'm pressed for time! So they'll 
 be thnnderin' apt to shoot at us a few !" 
 
 " All right, captain," replied the other. "I am more determined 
 than ever to stand by you. One of those bits of old iron might 
 
42 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 hit you, and in that event, I should like to see your plan carried 
 out." 
 
 " Thought so !" muttered the captain, as he rose. " Too much 
 derned grit to keep his head out of a mess. Well, Mr. Miles, I've 
 done harder things than this more than oncet. I guess we'll git 
 through. Brown ! have you gi'n your orders?" 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir !" 
 
 " Hard-a-port !" said tlie captain. " Steady so ! Silence in the 
 ship for the next two hours. I want to do all the jawin' that's done, 
 till we're in smooth water. Mr, Miles, I'm goin' forward to the 
 wheel-house. Will you come along? I want to give my orders 
 without howlin'." 
 
 The "Nellie" was painted a dull lead colour all over. Even the 
 funnel was freshly painted every day, and in the night she was totally 
 invisible at a short distance. The only light on board was a feeble 
 glimmer in the binnacle, and this was so completely shadowed by the 
 sliding shutters and by a tarpaulin screen in addition, that the vessel 
 might be considered in total darkness. 
 
 No sound was heard but the wash of the sea and the thump of 
 the machinery as the " Nellie" plunged ahead on her new tack. 
 The supercargo counted the slowly-creeping minutes, and almost 
 expected to see the dawn appear, while the skipper masticated his 
 quid in apparent unconcern. The hour passed, however, and as the 
 captain approached the steersman, a faint streak of light shot up in 
 the sky to seaward. A minute later another gleam, a little south of 
 the first, also marked the eastern sky. 
 
 "All right!" whispered Captain Sparks. "Hard a starboard, 
 Tom ! So ! Steady now. Can you see the compass, Tom ?" 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir !" said the helmsman. 
 
 " Keep her west-sou' west to- a hair." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir !" 
 
 "Them was rockets," said th§ captain to Mr. Miles; "they 
 signalled one another. S'pose they was sayin' they couldn't see 
 us." 
 
 " What next, captain ?" whispered the supercargo. 
 
 " I guess there won't be nothin' startlin' for an hour or two. I'm 
 goin' to git a mouthful of grub. Look right over the davit amid- 
 ships. Do you see that star?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That's the north star. I calkilate we shall see the lights on them 
 blockaders inside of two hours. I'm steerin' for 'em, straight. 
 
THE '^NELLIEr 43 
 
 While you see that star on the starboard quarter we arc going right. 
 My notion is this: them two fellers shootiu' rockets out yonder 
 have left the other two to watch the harbour. Nat'rally they're 
 layiu' otf the bar. So if I steer for them, I am steerin' for the 
 harbour." 
 
 The "Nellie" kept steadily on her course, while ^Ir. Miles paced 
 the deck between the wheel-house and forward hatch. Nothing 
 visible but the stars and the delicate tracery of the rigging against 
 the dark vault, as the vessel rolled from side to side. While the 
 supercargo was wat^-hing the little Dipper, the captain and mate 
 api)roacired with noiseless steps ; they had on rubber overshoes. 
 
 " Ka.se her up a point, Tom !" said Captivin Sparks. " So ! steady, 
 now! And don't you mind any orders from me spoke out loud. 
 When I want you to change your course I'll whisper. D'ye under- 
 stand?" 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir !" 
 
 " No matter how much I cuss or cut up rough, keep her nose 
 pointin' just as you've got her till I whisper. Keep your ears open 
 and keep your wits about you. Don't git skeart ! I know every 
 inch of this harbour, and once past them blazers we're all right. 
 All hands below, Mr. Brown ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. No one on deck but us four." 
 
 " All right. Mr. Miles, one of them blockaders is right off our 
 port bow. In ten minutes we shall see her. I caught a flash o' 
 light just now, and I expect to pass her only forty rods off. All 
 
 quiet now !" 
 
 :Mr. Miles peered eagerly into the gloom. Twenty times in the 
 ten minutes he thought he descried the dark hull and tapering masts 
 of the cruiser, but each time he was mistaken. Suddenly the cap- 
 tain touched his shoulder, and pointed his bony finger over the bul- 
 wark. At the same instant there was a flash of blue light abreast 
 the " Nellie," and the supercargo saw the outlines of the war-ship 
 with her side bristling with guns. 
 
 " Ship ahoy !" came across the water. " What ship is that?" 
 " The United States supply-ship * Union' !" promptly answered 
 
 Captain Sparks. 
 
 " Heave to !" There was an unmistakable menace in the tone of 
 
 this order. 
 
 " xVye, aye, sir !" replied the cheerful Sparks. " Hard a starboard, 
 mate! Hard down, you booby! Stop the ingine! Cuss your 
 clumsy skin! D'ye hear? Stop the engine!" And then iu a 
 
44 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 whisper, " Port, Tom ! Port ! two points. So ! steady !" And the 
 "Nellie" glided past the row of guns. 
 
 " Heave to ! you scoundrel !" shouted the officer, now plainly 
 visible as he stood in the shrouds of the frigate ; " heave to, instantly, 
 or I'll sink you !" 
 
 "Sink and be blowed !" answered Captain Sparks. "Starboard, 
 Tom ! We are pooty well out'en this mess ! Duck your heads 
 down ! He's goin' to shoot !" 
 
 A vivid flash, the whistle of a ball just over their heads, and the 
 roar of the gun all came together. 
 
 " Leetle more starboard, Tom !" whispered the captain. 
 
 Another flash and roar, and another, and Mr. INIiles felt the 
 " Nellie" shudder with the shock that nearly brought him to his 
 knees. There was a pang of disappointment, but he braced himself 
 up to meet the inevitable, and was surprised to see Captain Sparks 
 and the mate shaking hands and laughing uproariously. 
 
 " Needn't be skeart, Mr. Miles! That bump was the bar! No 
 harm done, and that blazer is clean licked ! Hang out your lights. 
 Brown! Everywhere! Don't want to get a shot from Sumter! 
 Slow her down, Tom ! all plain sailin' now. Say, Brown, don't you 
 think them four fellers are doin' some fancy cussin' this blessed 
 minit? I s'pose they've let forty tliousand dollars slip through 
 their fingers. Tumble up, boys, and hang out your lights. Gimme 
 a cigar, Mr. Miles ! Thankee !" 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 Knighthood. 
 
 THE duties devolving upon Mr. Hyland Rayneford at Nuttagur 
 station were not very onerous, but he did not lead an idle life, 
 by any means. There were surveys to be made, day after day, as 
 the Honourable Company projected certain improvements in that 
 locality. Mr. Rayneford was apt with his pencil, and Colonel Mor- 
 daunt, who was a capital civil engineer, illustrated his frequent 
 reports with sketches made by Mr. Rayneford. There were occa- 
 sional expeditions in all directions from Nuttagur — sometimes five 
 miles and sometimes twenty miles distant. Some parts of the sur- 
 rounding country were historical spots, deriving additional interest 
 
KNIGIiriWOD. 45 
 
 from tlie fiut that hostile forces had traversed the ground In the 
 dark days of the Sepoy mutiny. Nuttajrur had been a missionary 
 station only in the okl time, but was now a military post as well, 
 and the ollieers who were stationed there congratulated themselves 
 upon their gowl fortune in being so many feet above the ari^l plain 
 of Caleutta. 
 
 The Sanitarium, as it is called, is on a little range of hills east of 
 Kushnu^nir, and the altitude was not very great. After the mutiny, 
 the station had assumed increased importance as a military post, and 
 the missionary buildings had been given over to John Company in 
 exchange for more commodious ones a little more inland. Mr. 
 Glendare, wlu)se health seemed to improve by constant exercise and 
 exposure, made frequent trips to the new station, always walking, 
 and generally accompanied by Hyland and two or three natives, 
 partly soldiers and partly servants. One of the latter, Zeba by 
 name, considered himself Hyland's bodyguard, and was a splendid 
 si>ecimen of Hindoo humanity. He was very proud of his military 
 status, and of his medal and clasps won during the time of the 
 revolt, when his regiment had once and again passed through 
 sanguinary battles with his rebellious countrymen. 
 
 Mr. Glendare was a skilful amateur photographer, and many of 
 the more striking bits of scenery between the mission and the camp 
 were transferred to his portfolio. Some of them were copied by 
 Hyland, in hours of luxurious ease, on the verandah of the mission 
 bungalow. The red tape of the instructions demanded pencil sketches 
 at the date of this story, but the more accurate presentments of the 
 sun-painting are now admissible in engineers' reports. 
 
 Zeba had been assigned to Hyland soon after the arrival of Col- 
 onel Mordaunt and his fragment of a regiment at Nuttagur. Some 
 of the expeditions through the jungle were thought to be more or less 
 risky, as the memory of the famous mutiny was still uppermost in 
 the mind of the commanding officer, and armed attendants always 
 accompanied the Europeans in their wanderings. Zeba, in his red 
 jacket and turban, was a picturesque warrior, overflowing with 
 politeness, and Hyland and Mr. Glendare were both attached to 
 him. His English was remarkably good, and on many occasions 
 their journeys were enlivene<l by argumentation upon knotty points 
 in Theology. The native was a devout Mussulman, and conse- 
 quently a profound fatalist. The verbal warfare was triangular, as 
 Hyland resisted Mr. Glendare's Calvinism as stoutly as he opposed 
 the errors of the Hindoos' creed. The missionary was very earnest 
 
46 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 in his efforts to make a convert of Zeba, who, in turn, took great 
 delight in bringing the pithy quotations from the Koran against the 
 Scripture texts hurled at him by the missionary, 
 
 " It seems to me, Mr. Glendare," said Hyland, on one occasion, 
 when the trio were consuming cheroots under the shade of a great 
 rock, a few miles from the station — " it seems to me that you and 
 Zeba might reach a compromise. I can detect but little difference 
 between you in this matter of fate. Of course, you have an ad- 
 vantage in quoting from Holy AVrit; but considered philosophically, 
 your postulates have a family resemblance." 
 
 " Man write Sahib Glendare's Book. Man write Koran," said 
 Zeba, sententiously. 
 
 " There !" said Hyland. " You are driven to the proof of in- 
 spiration, you see." 
 
 " Yes," replied ^Ir. Glendare ; " if the Koran could give evidence 
 of its inspiration, Zeba would stand on very solid ground. But the 
 book lacks any such proof. There is so much in it that is unclean, 
 immoral, and unphilosophical, that its character is bad. Nothing 
 good could come from so much evil." 
 
 " Lotus grow in the mud !" said Zeba. 
 
 " Bravo, Zeba !" said Mr. Glendare, with unaffected admiration. 
 "I have never encountered a disputant more ready than you ! Your 
 answer is most acute, but the lotus is not the product of the mud. 
 It owes its sweetness to the sun. It derives its beauty from the 
 heavens. If it were not for these influences that give it life and 
 character, you would not be attracted. The difference between your 
 sacred book and mine is found in the internal evidence furnished 
 by both. INIine inculcates beneficence as the one law of the race. 
 Yours teaches no such lesson." 
 
 "Sahib teach too much!" responded the Hindoo. "Soft hand for 
 friends ; sharp tulwar for enemies !" And he tapped the hilt of his 
 weapon wdth his slender fingers. " In Paradise the brave warrior 
 pitches his tent near the tent of the Prophet. Your Book say, 
 * Love enemy !' No warrior love enemy. Sahib make laugh for 
 Hindoo ! When you fight Nena Sahib, you say, ' Kill, kill !' You 
 not kill when you love I" 
 
 " It is strange," said Glendare, turning to Hyland, " to find the 
 same traditional form of belief in opposite creeds. The Christian 
 habitually looks forward to a future dwelling near the person of his 
 Prophet. Here is the same anticipation declared by our heathen 
 friend " 
 
KNIGHTHOOD. 47 
 
 " Mi)hamincdaii not heathen!" Siiid Zol)a; "there is one God, and 
 Molianimeil is His Prophet !" 
 
 The disciis.sioii was rudely interrupted at this point by a scream 
 of terror. The two tlauj^hters of Coh)nel Mordannt had walked out 
 from Nuttagur, escorted by Mr. Daltman, to the present line of 
 survey. A railway was projected, and the route followed tlie range 
 of hills, terminating with the giant rock under whose shadow the 
 trio were reclining. Hvland started to his feet and dashed round 
 the base of the rock, followed by his two companions. He found 
 the ladies, with Daltman, on the survey-side. Juliet, the elder, was 
 pointing her trembling finger at the thick jungle fringing the hill- 
 side, and Daltman, shading his eyes with his hand, was eagerly 
 peering in the indicated direction. Haidee stood a little apart, her 
 face bound up in snowy muslin. She was a victim of neuralgia, 
 poor child ! 
 
 *' M'hat has happened ?" said Hyland, glancing from one to the 
 other. 
 
 " A tiger !" said Juliet, catching his arm and clinging to it. " I 
 saw it twice ! Mr. Daltman laughed at me ; but I saw it. There ! 
 there !" 
 
 The Hindoo passed the excited group, his gun cocked and his 
 finger on the trigger. Twenty yards in advance he stoppe<l, and, 
 slowly turning his head from side to side, closely scrutinised the 
 dense vegetation in front. 
 
 " What have you seen ?" asked Hyland, as Daltman turned towards 
 him. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Daltman, slowly, while his eyes contradicted 
 his words. "Let us return by the railway survey." 
 
 " It is through jungle, a long mile," interposed Mr. Glendare ; " it 
 is wiser to retrace your steps." 
 
 " That is through jungle also," said Daltman. " Suppose we send 
 the Hindoo back for reinforcements? He can leave his weapons 
 with us, just to tranquillize the ladies, you know." 
 
 " And send him unarmed ?" asked Hyland. 
 
 " Yes, certainly ! There is nothing to dread. Besides " 
 
 " Besides what ?" 
 
 " He is only a native," whispered Daltman. 
 
 Hyland walked up to Zeba and touched his shoulder. The 
 Hindoo turned with grave politeness and bent his head. 
 
 " Salaam, sahii)." 
 
 " Have you seen anything ?" 
 
48 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Nothing, sahib. Yes. The tree yonder shook." 
 
 " Is the tiger there, Zeba?" 
 
 " Yes, sahib." 
 
 " Are you frightened, Zeba ?" said Hyland, looking keenly into 
 the black eves of the soldier. 
 
 " No, sahib," responded the other, steadily. 
 
 " Then listen. We will go back to the bungalow. You and I 
 will lead. Then the ladies. Then Mr. Daltman and Mr. Glendare. 
 Lend me your sword." 
 
 Zeba turned his left side to his interlocutor, and Hyland drew the 
 keen blade from the scabbard. The Hijuloo, still facing the hillside, 
 retreated step by step, walking backwards. 
 
 " Give me the tulwar, Rayneford," said Daltman. 
 
 " Not I !" replied Hyland. " Your hand is too large for the hilt." 
 
 "" Give me the weapon !" said Daltman, impatiently. " You are 
 only a civilian." 
 
 " And therefore not under military authority. I decline to part 
 with this sharp " 
 
 The report of Zeba's gun interrupted the sentence. Hyland turned 
 around, and saw the native facing the huge rock beneath Avhose shade 
 they had just been resting. The blue smoke was curling from the 
 muzzle of his gun, still pointing to the summit of the rock. All 
 eyes were directed to the same object, and took in the same appalling 
 vision — a great tiger, crouching for the spring, and then the yellow 
 body flying through the air, and then the shock of his enormous 
 bulk against the Hindoo, facing him with unflinching pluck, and 
 then a confused mass of struggling life, the white turban and red 
 jacket of the man mingling with the black stripes on the lithe yellow 
 body of the brute, as they whirled around on the earth. 
 
 With two bounds Hyland reached the group, and as the tiger 
 crouched again, Avhile his tail waved from side to side, he paused, 
 ■witli uplifted weapon. Th« two glared at each other an instant 
 with burning eyes. 
 
 "Pooh!" whispered Rayneford to himself, while his heart beat 
 under the strong excitement ; " pooh ! it is only an overgrown cat. 
 Now if Frank has sense enough to take the women away. Ah !" 
 
 The tiger drew his body together, and, with an angry growl, once 
 more leaped from the ground. Hyland took one step aside, and with 
 a swift sweep of the tulwar struck the beast between the ears. One 
 great paw, already dripping with blood, caught his shoulder, tearing 
 away his garment, and leaving a long gash in his flesh, from neck to 
 
A DEPARTURE. 49 
 
 elbow. But the sword-cut had told, and a second blow, aimed with 
 cool precision, bit deeply into the neck of the tiger, almost severing 
 the head from the body. Tiie spinal cord was cut, and the combat 
 was over. 
 
 All this passed in a few, short minutes, Ilyland stood erect and 
 panting, wondering where the warm blood tlmt trickled into his 
 hand, still grasping the tulwar, came from. jNIiss Alordaunt was 
 indulging in a tit of genuine hysterics, supported by Daltman, who 
 ■was assuring her of present safety. Zeba lay prone upon the ground, 
 torn and senseless, his white turban mottled with a dull crimson, and 
 with streaming wounds in breast and arms. ^Ir. Glendare was 
 bending over the Hindoo. The tiger was stretched out in hideous 
 magnificence at Hyland's feet, and Haidee, who had not moved, gazed 
 alternately at the various groups, but M'atching most intently the 
 central figure, with the long, red stain on his right arm, the flush 
 of battle on his cheek and brow, and the look of dauntless valour in 
 Ills blazing eyes. 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful !" she whispered. " The knight ! the gallant 
 knight ! Sir Hyland evermore !" 
 
 This was not the usual method of conferring knighthood ; never- 
 theless, Haidee never withdrew the title. It was better than the 
 accolade. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A Departure. 
 
 TT was not very remarkable that this romantic young lady should 
 -*- heartily admire the prowess of Hyland. She was deeply read 
 in works of fiction, and finding very few living impersonations of her 
 various heroes, she naturally yielded her admiration at the first ex- 
 ample of pure mnnhood she had seen. She had overheard the brief 
 colloquy between Rayneford and Daltman. The latter had earned 
 her displeasure by sundry former exhibitions of non-romantic sel- 
 fishness, and she felt her neuralgic cheek glow with sympathy at 
 Hyland's prompt rejection of his proposal to sacrifice the native. 
 She had been incredulous as to the proximity of the dangerous brute, 
 until she saw his body in the air, and then his bulk, in her eyes, 
 rivalled that of an elepliant. Between his first leap and the last 
 sweep of the tulwar there seemed to be only a transient instiuit of 
 
 4 
 
50 THE CLIFTON PICTURE, 
 
 time, and there stood the victor, weapon in hand, and more than a 
 match for a dozen tigers, in Haidee's estimation. 
 
 " Sir Hyland," she murmured to herself, " not of tlie couchant 
 leopard, but of the bounding tiger! Oh, how I should like to paint 
 his shield !" 
 
 But Haidee had j! common-sense, practical side to her character, 
 and while the animal was still quivering in death-agony, she ap- 
 proached and touched Hyland's arm. 
 
 " Let me bind up your arm," she said. 
 
 " My arm ?" said Hyland, startled. " Why, yes ! it is scratched. 
 I did not know it. Thank you ! That will do, I think. Your 
 handkerchief will be utterly ruined." 
 
 "No, that won't do, I think," responded Haidee, quietly. " I want 
 another handkerchief. I'll get Juliet's." 
 
 " Xo need. Here is mine. You are brave to come so near the 
 tiger. But he is no longer dangerous." 
 
 " You went nearer !" she answered, glancing at him, while she 
 drew the knots in the handkerchief; " besides, you have your sword !" 
 
 "What glorious eyes the little skinny creature has!" thought Hy- 
 land ; and then aloud, " Miss Mordaunt, I am very grateful. My 
 arm is nearly cured already." 
 
 "It is a dreadful wound !" replied Haidee; "the doctor will have 
 to sew it up ! See how the blood comes through ! How could you 
 strike that terrible blow with this arm ?" 
 
 "He must have scratched me when I gave him the first cut, but 
 I did not know it. Poor Zeba! Let us look after him. He taught 
 me the trick of the tulwar. A downright blow and a cut. Is Zeba 
 badly hurt, Mr. Glendare?" 
 
 " Very much torn in the breast and neck. The scalp is torn 
 from the side of his head. How shall we get him to the station ?" 
 
 "Do you and Daltman take the ladies, and send a palanquin. 
 I will stay with him. Suppose we bind up some of these wounds 
 first? Tear strips from his turban. Thank you. Miss Mordaunt, 
 we can attend to him. How magnificent he looked as he stood here 
 facing that wild beast ! Did you see liim ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Glendare. " I saw you as well." 
 
 Miss Mordaunt was sufficiently recovered to walk. Daltman 
 reloaded the Hindoo's gun and gave it to Mr. Glendare. 
 
 " We will send help to you within an hour," he said, as they pre- 
 pared to separate. "As we have the ladies to protect, perhaps you 
 liad better give me the sword." 
 
.1 DEPARTURE. 51 
 
 "Certainly," said Ilylaml; "take it." 
 
 " And do you intend to leave Mr. Rayneford totally unarmed?" 
 said Iluiilee, lookint; alternatoly at Daltnian and the nu.ssionary. 
 
 "The only important matter is to get yon to the bungalow," re- 
 plied Daltnian. "I apprehend no danger, but you ladies will feel 
 more secure if we are both provided with weapons." 
 
 " Xo need for controversy," said Mr. Glendare. "The colonel 
 has sent your dandies. There they come. If you can walk, Miss 
 Haidee, we will get Zeba home in your dandy." 
 
 A dandy is simply a long pole with a strip of carpet or canvas in 
 the middle, Avhich is hooked up at the ends. The rider sits in the 
 loop of the carpet, grasps the pole, which is lifted to the shoulders 
 of the bearers, and they travel sideways, at his ease. Colonel 
 ^lordaunt had grown weary at the prolonged absence of his daugh- 
 ters, and had sent the dandies to meet them and hasten their 
 return. Zeba was carefully lifted from the ground, and, supported 
 by ^Ir. Glendare and Daltnian, was strapped in the dandy. In 
 a few minutes the party was passing the jungle on the homeward 
 march. 
 
 " I had no thought of deserting you, Mr. Rayneford," observed 
 Mr. Glendare, as they emerged from the shadow of the jungle. 
 " My purpose was to escort the ladies to this point, and then return 
 to you." 
 
 Haidee, who was walking by the side of Juliet's dandy, threw 
 back an approving glance to the missionary. Mr. Glendare nodded 
 in reply. 
 
 *' What eloquent eyes the child has!" he said. 
 
 " She is a little heroine," whispered Hyland. " What in the world 
 is her head tied up in that absurd fashion for?" 
 
 " She is a martyr to neuralgia," answered the missionary, in the 
 same tone. "Doctor Leigh has been treating her ever since she left 
 Calcutta. He does not allow her to remove her bandages upon any 
 pretext." 
 
 " Her sister might walk a little, and let her ride," muttered 
 Hyland. "She seems quite recovered." 
 
 Miss Juliet was chatting very gayly with Daltraan, who walked 
 by the side of her dandy. 
 
 " I suppose that does not occur to either of them," observed Mr. 
 Glendare. "Certainly not to Haidee." 
 
 " They do not seem to resemble each other," said Hyland, after a 
 pause in the conversation. 
 
52 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " No ; I am not sure tliat I am only retailing camp gossip when I 
 tell you, confidentially, they are not related." 
 
 " I do not understand," said Hyland. 
 
 " It is said that one of them is only the adopted daughter of the 
 colonel. A brother officer was killed in the mutiny. Colonel 
 Mordaunt adopted the child." 
 
 " The younger?" 
 
 " I am not sure. Nobody knows. Nobody ventures to ask. 
 The colonel's whole family perished horribly, except one daughter. 
 Frank says he has reason to know that Juliet is the colonel's own 
 child. But " 
 
 " But what ?" said Hyland ; " pardon me if I should not ask." 
 
 " I was going to say," continued the missionary, reluctantly, " that 
 Frank is sometimes rash in his conclusions. Still, I have no reason 
 to doubt him in this matter. The colonel makes no difference in 
 his treatment of them. Hist ! Zeba is speaking !" 
 
 At a sign from the missionary the .bearers stopped, and the 
 Europeans all gathered round the wounded Hindoo, who was mut- 
 tering incoherently in his native tongue. Mr. Glendare bent his 
 head down and listened. 
 
 " He is talking in one of the Punjaubic dialects," said Mr. 
 Glendare; "and I cannot understand him." 
 
 Haidee plucked her voluminous bandage from one ear and listened 
 a moment. 
 
 "He says give sword and scabbard to Sahib Hyland," she said. 
 Zeba muttered a few more words, and relapsed into insensibility. 
 
 " He says there is one God, and Mohammed is his Prophet," 
 continued Haidee, " and he has fainted again." 
 
 The march was resumed. Haidee adjusted her head-dress and 
 rejoined her sister. 
 
 " I suppose Frank is right," observed Mr. Glendare ; " she under- 
 stands that lingo. The adopted daughter came from the western 
 provinces, where the natives speak the purest Pracrit." 
 
 After the bungalow was reached and the Hindoo's wounds had 
 been dressed. Dr. Leigh examined Hyland's arm. He was a pep- 
 pery old army-surgeon, w'ith about as much human sympathy as a 
 hyena. 
 
 " Humph !" he said, after bathing the wounded limb ; " it is quite 
 possible, Mr. Rayneford, that you will have to draw your pretty 
 pictures wnth your left hand hereafter !" 
 
 " What can you mean, doctor?" said Hyland, aghast. 
 
.1 DEPARTURE. 53 
 
 " Fever, Inflammation. Nerves lacerated. Mortification. How 
 the devil can I tell? Yon are cut to the bone." 
 
 " And Zeba?" said Hyland, reprcssin*; a groan. 
 
 " If he were white he woukl be dead already," replied the medico. 
 "One c:\nnevertell abont these natives. One eye is gone. That 
 mnch is certain. And 1 think I'll take off one arm to-morrow." 
 
 The grisly anticipation put the doctor in a good humour. 
 
 " If you keep perfectly quiet — stay out of the sun — stay in the 
 bungalow a week, and don't use your arm at all, I'll — I'll try to save 
 it. There is some poison in the beast's claws. I have healed up far 
 ■worse sword-cuts, but this is torn and ragged. Kemember what I 
 tell you ! Every movement of your body irritates the wound. And 
 the hot weather i«^ against you." 
 
 '* I will obey all your orders, doctor," replied Hyland, submissively. 
 
 "Very well. If you get feverish, I'll strap your other arm to 
 your body, to keep you from clawing at the bandages. You had 
 better go to bed at once." 
 
 " I have had nothing to eat," murmured Hyland. 
 
 " Eat !" said the doctor, in disgust. " Eat ! Who ever heard of 
 a man eating with one foot in the grave — one arm, at least ! I sup- 
 pose you would like a bottle of pale ale?" 
 
 " Indeed that is true, doctor." 
 
 " Plain tea morning and evening," replied the doctor, dogmatic- 
 ally ; " a little boiled rice at noon. No meat and no beer for a 
 week. Get away with you ! I must get the native to his quarters." 
 
 Haidee had an ayah, a shrivelled, old, saffron-coloured woman, with 
 an unlimited capacity for lying and sleeping. She indulged in cat- 
 naps every hour of the twenty-four, but could start up, broad awake 
 on the instant. During the night she made hourly raids into Hy- 
 land's room, (acting under stringent orders,) and made rapid, cursory 
 addresses in Hindoostanee to Hyland's native servant, squatted at 
 the foot of his couch, and pretending to keep the punka in motion. 
 The youth slept through it all. This pastime was continued several 
 days and nights in succession, until at last the tyrannical doctor 
 allowed him to walk out after nightfall for an hour at a time, and 
 increased his rations. The arm healed rapidly, leaving a long, red 
 seam, and in two weeks he was taken off the sick list and restored 
 to liberty. 
 
 Before Zeba, minus one eye and one arm, crawled into the sun- 
 light, ^Ir. Rayneford was ordered to the Himalaya Mountains. 
 The government had sent a corps of botanists, geologists, and sur- 
 
5i THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 veyors to this locality, and Hyland, following in the trail of a body 
 of pilgrims, bound for the temple of Bhagaritha, set out from the 
 shades of Nuttagur to prospect and report upon the cinchona plan- 
 tations just begun under the auspices of John Company. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Haidee. 
 
 A GREAT part of the magnificent country, where the Ganges 
 issues from the Himalayan range, was totally unknown to 
 Europeans at the date of this history. It liad been discovered that 
 the cinchona-tree, hitherto confined to the slopes of tlie Andes, would 
 grow, at similar altitude, in Xorthern India, and the chief object of 
 the expedition with which Hyland was connected was to explore tliese 
 regions, report upon the fauna and flora, and make such topograph- 
 ical surveys as might be necessary. The belt of land upon which 
 the cinchona was found to flourish varied in all particulars, except 
 in its elevation above the sea level. It is said that trees above and 
 below this narrow belt preserve the same exterior appearance, while 
 their bark yields only a meagre percentage of quinine. But the 
 experiments on the slopes of the Himalayas had been very encour- 
 aging, and the true bark, apparently identical M'ith the Calisaya, had 
 been successfully cultivated and tested by government agents, and 
 found to be rich in the active principle of the Peruvian tree. 
 
 Among the new acquaintances that Hyland made there was a 
 Doctor Connor, a native of New York, but a traveller of such enor- 
 mous experience that all parts of the habitable globe seemed equally 
 familiar to him. He had spent a series of years in South America 
 in the employment of the English " monopoly," as it was called — 
 a company of capitalists who had contracted for all the bark of the 
 cinchona-trees in the countries that produced them. He was so 
 true an expert, that he could distinguish at a glance between the real 
 and the "bastard" bark, and could announce beforehand the percent- 
 age of quinine that would be given by any selected specimen. His 
 faith in the medicinal virtue of the drug was nearly boundless, and 
 he had a multitude of carefully attested examples of marvellous 
 cases in which quinine had rescued the victims of various diseases 
 from the very jaws of death. There was something irresistibly 
 
HAIDEE. 65 
 
 comic in his furious onslaughts upon "quaclccry" in all its forms, 
 connled with his enthusiastic faith in his favourite remedial ajjjent. 
 
 llyhuul w;us attraeted to the tloetor iVom the first. As lu; had 
 wandered all over the face of the eiu*th, having a smattering of all 
 known languages, his repertoire was fdled with bits of personal ad- 
 venture, mingleil with much valuable historical fact ; and so long as 
 the sovereign virtues of "quinia" were not contested, the doctor was 
 an eminently plciusant companion. It happened that there were no 
 other educated men in the party, and Doctor Connor and Mr. 
 Ilayneford naturally sought each other's society. 
 
 Before the party reached the mountains, the Bhagaritha pilgrims 
 left them. The surveys were to be made at Bhootra, and here they 
 found a populous station, where the various scientists above mentioned 
 had preceded them. There was a vast extent of country between 
 Nuttagur and Hyland's new field, and the adventures of the Nutta- 
 gur station were soon forgotten in the constant round of duties en- 
 grossing his attention at Bhootra. Nevertheless, there came a letter 
 from Hyland to Mr. Glendare a few months after the separation. 
 
 " I M'ish you were up here in this grand climate !" he wrote. " We 
 thought the hills at Nuttagur were a great improv^ement upon Cal- 
 cutta. But what do you say to ten thousand feet above the sea 
 level? I have been to that altitude more than once. At present 
 we are only a paltry two thousand feet high, and ray surveys will 
 not go much higher. The Bhagaritha ])ilgrims, who left us several 
 days before we reached Bhootra, seek their shrine ten thousand feet 
 up — somewhere in the course or near the source of their sacred river. 
 
 " I am very much interested in the cinchona plantations. They 
 are undoubtedly flourishing, and Doctor Connor, our chief botanist, 
 pronounces them genuine. By-the-bye, I must tell you more about 
 my new friend. He is an American, but has lived everywhere, 
 talks no end of Hugos, and is a skilful physician. I have witnessed 
 some remarkable cures under his treatment. He is sane upon all 
 subjects, except the curative powers of quinia. I cannot tell you 
 how much he claims for his favourite drug, but the other medicos 
 up here assert the fact that its exhibition in several cases (where he 
 has certainly been successful) is something new in medical lore. He 
 does not call it a panacea, but he says this much with great confi- 
 dence and emphasis : all diseases that are intermittent yield to it, 
 properly administered. And he specially enumerated neuralgia 
 among these ailments. This attracted my attention ])articularly, as 
 the little lady with the big eyes is a martyr to that disease. Just 
 
56 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 think of it ! I actually never saw Miss Haidee, during all my stay 
 at Nuttagur, when her head was not swathed up in bandages ! And 
 my sympathy for the child made me specially attentive to Doctor 
 Connor's remarks, and I made a memorandum of them, which I 
 enclose. 
 
 " Perhaps it is indecorous in me to meddle, but I cannot help it 
 if it is. I would incur more serious risks in such a cause. Pray 
 see Doctor Leigh, and put the matter before him. And do it judi- 
 ciously, my dear friend. These medical men do not cut each other's 
 throats only because they slake their appetites on such fellows as you 
 and me, but they are terribly jealous of each other ! I wish you could 
 read it to the doctor out of some medical book ! 
 
 " Be judicious, I pray you. Do not arouse the latent antagonism. 
 For if Doctor Leigh should say ' no,' all my high hopes and expec- 
 tations would be dashed. The colonel would not allow any experi- 
 ments, of course. Apropos of experiments ! I spent two days at 
 the snow-line, three weeks ago, and I had a dull headache at noon, 
 three successive days, after we came down. Doctor Connor gave me 
 the horrible stuif — only once — twenty-four grains ! In three instal- 
 ments, three hours apart, and I have, had no headache since. I 
 cannot say a word in praise of the taste of quinia. Neither can I 
 eulogise the sensations that follow its administration. My head felt 
 too big to go into an ordinary barrel for three or four hours. But 
 no headache came with the next noon, my friend ! I was cured ! 
 
 " I am so thorough a convert to Dr. Connor's theory, that I should 
 not hesitate to administer his drug to my sister or daughter, if I had 
 either, a victim to neuralgia. Especially, as the doctors, differing 
 about every other point, agree in pronouncing quinia innocuous at 
 least." 
 
 Mr. Glendare received this letter at high noon, when the chief 
 personages introduced in a previous chapter were at tiffin in the 
 colonel's bungalow. 
 
 " From Rayueford !" he exclaimed, when he had broken the seal. 
 
 " Read it aloud," said a chorus of voices. 
 
 Mr. Glendare glanced over the letter, and then read the quotation 
 given above. The comments that followed were highly instructive. 
 
 "Humbug!" said Doctor Leigh. " There are no specifics. Yan- 
 kee quack probably, maker of patent pills. How the deuce can he 
 prescribe for a case he never saw ?" 
 
 " Rayneford is sold !" said Daltman ; " never saw such a fellow ! 
 Ready to run off with any new dodge that comes up." 
 
UAIDEE. 57 
 
 "A tiger dodge, for instance," niurnmrcd Miss Haidee, who was 
 sipping pale ale, and nuineliing a bi.scuit with aching jaws. No- 
 body seemed to hear her remark. 
 
 " Very thoughtful in Rayneford," said Mr. Glendare, " and I 
 think Frank's remark very unjust. Rayneford is the most con- 
 servative man 1 know." 
 
 " Not very conservative, to suggest wholesale poisoning of my 
 patients! Sorry I did not take his arm off!" said Doctor licigh. 
 
 Mr. Cilendare folded his letter and ])ut it in his pocket. This 
 was clearly not the time to argue with Doctor Leigh, llaidee sat 
 next the missionary, taking her ale, a gulp at a time. It was a part 
 of Dr. Leigh's " treatment." When the rest left the table, and 
 strolled out on the verandah, she remained at the table, meditating. 
 At last the ale was finished, and as she arose she saw the slip of 
 paper, which Mr. Glendare had dropped from the letter. She took 
 it up and read ivs follows : 
 
 " If there is an intermission of pain from three to six hours, the 
 patient should take from twelve to twenty-four grains of the sul- 
 phate of quinia within the interval. It is better to take enough at 
 once, and the patient can tell when he has enough, whicli will be 
 when he hears a thousand hornets buzzing in his head. Some- 
 times, and with some constitutions, twelve grains will do. I have 
 no confidence in smaller quantities." 
 
 " Ah ! this is Sir Hyland's memorandum I" said she, replacing 
 the paj)er by Mr. Glendare's ])late. " So he remembers the ' poor 
 child' with her head swathed in muslin ! And lie has written that 
 letter, and sent it five hundred miles, I suppose, at least, because he 
 sympathises with the ' little lady with big eyes !' And Doctor Leigh 
 says he is a humbug ! Very well, then ! I'll see if I cannot 
 humbug him !" 
 
 Adjoining the colonel's bungalow Doctor Leigh had his labora- 
 tory. It was a small room, filled with villainous smells. But 
 Haidee was familiar with all its nooks and crannies, for she was 
 a volunteer nurse and hospital stewardess, chiefly because she could 
 understand the natives, who always talked Hindoostanee when af- 
 flicted with febrile diseases. Quinia was also a favourite remedy 
 with Doctor Leigh, and he had jirivately made up his mind to try 
 its efficacy upon Haidee while Glendare was reading Hyland's letter. 
 He meant to give her two or three grains and watch the results. 
 
 But she — poor slip of a child — aged eighteen, and full of woman's 
 wit, and woman's relentless determination, walked softly into the 
 
58 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 doctor's laboratory, while he was puffing at his cheroot on the broad 
 verandah. She knew as well as he where he stored his treasures, 
 and in less than eight minutes she had weighed three times eight 
 grains of sulphate of quinia, and deftly folded the three powders 
 and stowed them aAvay in her pocket. 
 
 " I have no pain from eight o'clock to bedtime," she reflected, 
 "and I intend to take these powders at nine, ten, and eleven. I 
 suppose I cannot read ' The King's Secret' to-night, but I can wait 
 until to-morrow. Besides, I have read it twice already. And I'll 
 tell nobody about it. Does Sir Hyland suppose the poor little child 
 ■would be snubbed by old Doctor Leigh ? Child ! I vow I think 
 men are the greatest geese — not Sir Hyland though. Never 
 mind !" 
 
 Haidee's ayah jerked fitfully at the punka cord between naps, at 
 about nine o'clock that evening. Haidee emptied one powder in 
 a cu])ful of ale and drank it. The facial contortions that followed 
 would have made the fortune of a circus clown, but she bravely 
 clenched her fist and refrained from expletives. When ten o'clock 
 came, she repeated the dose. It is a wonder she did not swear in 
 Hindoostanee, but she did not. Before eleven o'clock she distinctly 
 heard sixty-five thousand hornets, and while their music was at its 
 height, she quietly disrobed and sought her couch. 
 
 The next day Haidee informed Doctor Leigh that she was quite 
 free from pain. Might she leave off her head-wraps? By no 
 means ! Another day passed, and still no neuralgia. She ate four 
 mutton-chops, while the doctor stared at her speechless. That 
 evening her pretty face appeared at the dinner-table uncovered. 
 She was still carnivorous. 
 
 " Quinia be blowed !" said Dr. Leigh to Mr. Glendare, in a whis- 
 per ; " notice the quantity of grub that child is consuming ! "When 
 you write to Mr. Rayneford, tell him we have managed to cure the 
 child without using his Yankee humbug! Haidee! Will you try 
 the quinia ?" 
 
 " I think I prefer another slice of mutton, doctor," she answered, 
 " thank you !" 
 
THE SOLDIERS. 69 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The Soldiers. 
 
 AS a coincidence, it may be noted that Islv. Supercargo Miles was 
 disposing of quiniaat a huge profit in Charleston, at the very 
 time Hyland was starting for the cinchona plantations. Tiie cargo 
 of the ''Nellie" was well assorted, and, acting under the general 
 instructions of the shipper, the supercargo sold his wares rapidly. 
 The new crop of cotton was just appeiiring upon the market when 
 the " Nellie's" hold was emptied. But there had been some cases of 
 yellow fever, and the disease was spreading. By the urgent advice 
 of his brokers and bankers, Mr. Miles took a trip into the interior, 
 with the understanding that he would prolong his absence until a 
 decided frost should have driven out the dreaded scourge of the 
 coast. He yielded to this arrangement the more readily because the 
 blockade was for more efficient than usual ; and even if he could 
 have completed his loading, he could not have ventured over the bar. 
 He spent a week at a pleasant village, less than a hundred miles 
 inland. Here the talk was all of the army. Every voice was still 
 for war. The larger part of the population belonged to the gentler 
 sex, the men being all afield, excepting those whose age disqualified 
 them for military service. The items of news were gathered from 
 the city papers, and Miles was surprised to find the women, of all 
 ages and conditions, as belligerent as the hero of the old ballad: 
 
 " La guerre ost ma patrie, 
 Mon harnais ma maison, 
 Et en tout saison, 
 Combattre c'est ma vie." 
 
 With his limited knowledge of political questions, and with his 
 inevitable English prejudice, Miles could not discover any satisfac- 
 tory reason for this strange unanimity. But he learned very speedily 
 to moderate his own expressions, and to withhold any hint that the 
 " invader" could possibly have some show of right on his side. 
 Curious to investigate the masculine modes of thought, he gradually 
 extended his travels inland, always approaching rtie scenes of actual 
 conflict, until he found himself within an easy day's ride of a pros- 
 jwctive battle-field. " The fighting instinct" distinguishing all 
 bipeds, from the cock-sparrow up to man, was too much for his pru- 
 dence, and gathering all the information respecting routes that was 
 
60 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 attainable, he crossed the Tennessee border one morning, and started 
 in search of a camp of ten thousand Confederate soldiers, somewhere 
 between him and sunset. 
 
 The Charleston bankers had furnished him with letters — some 
 were circulars addressed to various moneyed institutions in the in- 
 terior towns, and some to prominent army-officers in Tennessee and 
 Virginia. Late in th^ afternoon he was pacing soberly along the 
 dusty highroad, when he Avas suddenly confronted by an armed man, 
 who emerged from the bushes on the roadside. 
 
 He w'as a tall, raw-boned specimen of the genus homo, clad in 
 grey trousers and grey flannel shirt, a cartridge-box strapped to his 
 waist, a long knife in his belt, and a Minie rifle in his hands, the 
 bright bayonet glittering at the end of the barrel, depressed to the 
 line of Miles's body. 
 
 " Halt, there !" he said, passing his thumb to the gun-cock. 
 Miles drew up his horse. 
 
 " Who air you ? AVhere air you goin' ?" said the soldier. 
 
 "I am an Englishman," answered Miles, "and I am looking for 
 General Smith." 
 
 " Hum !" said the soldier, doubtfully. "Got any despatches?" 
 
 " I have a letter for General Smith." 
 
 " Got any we'pons ?" 
 
 " None."- 
 
 " Well," drawled the soldier, " I reckon you can ride on. "Walk 
 your horse. If you go too fast, a Minie ball will be derned apt 
 to kitch up with you !" And he tapped the butt of his weapon 
 as he raised it to a "shoulder arms," and straggled back to the 
 bushes. 
 
 A few minutes later. Miles was again challenged by the apparent 
 twin brother of the first soldier. A similar interchange of views 
 took place, and while the second sentinel pondered. Miles concluded 
 to propound some questions on his own account. 
 
 " It seems I am approaching the camp," he said. " Can you tell 
 me, my friend, if I shall find General Smith ?" 
 
 " Our old man is Gen'l Smith," answered the warrior. 
 
 " And are you a member of his corps ?" 
 
 " I belong to th^ Forty-ninth North Kalliney Infantry," replied 
 the. soldier, with dignity ; " and if you call me ' Tar-heel,' I'll be 
 dogon'd if I don't mash your mouth !" 
 
 " Call you ' Tar-heel' ?" said Miles. " Certainly not ! I do not 
 even know what it means." 
 
THE SOLDIERS. 61 
 
 " I forgot you was a Britisher," replied the other. ^ " Say ! do all 
 Britishers wear plug-hats and gloves in hot weather?" 
 
 "Not all, I fancy," said Miles. "What road shall I take to 
 reach the camp?" 
 
 " Better climb down onten your saddle, I reckon," said the soldier, 
 coolly. " You can lead your cattle. Is Queen Victory a-goin' to 
 jine us ag'in the Yanks?" 
 
 " I really cannot say," replied Miles, glancing at the sober face of 
 his interlocutor, wondering if the question was seriously propounded. 
 " So ! I am afoot, you see. And now, which way ?" 
 
 "Kight down the road. It ain't no ways from here. You'll 
 come to the school-house at the head of the road. Plenty of fellows 
 thar to p'int your way out. Say, Britisher, you'd better come outen 
 that hat afore you git into camp ! You can mount ag'in, if you 
 
 like !" 
 
 » As W\\qs> rode along he took off the objectionable headgear, and 
 examined it narrowly to discover its special faultiness. It was a 
 good hat, tolerably new, in a good state of preservation, and cer- 
 tainly in the latest London fashion. Utterly at a loss to account for 
 the parting advice of the sentinel, he replaced his hat as he turned 
 the bend of the road, when the " school-house" came into view. 
 There were some twenty soldiers, the most of them spread out upon 
 the grassy mound, some playing with soiled cards, some smoking 
 pipes, their guns stacked near the building. Half a dozen horses, 
 with military saddles and holsters, were fastened to the low boughs 
 of the trees, and a small group of officers, seated on the rough bench 
 on the school-house porch, rose as he approachal. A negro boy, 
 with glittering white teeth, took his bridle when he dismounted. 
 The soldiers united in a chorus of murmurs, as he passed them — 
 
 " Come outen that hat !" 
 
 " Good afternoon, gentlemen," said the supercargo, removing his 
 hat, as the officers courteously touched their caps ; " will you pardon 
 a stranger if I enquire what the deuce ails my hat?" 
 
 A roar of laughter from the officers was the immediate response, 
 and then one of them, offering his hand to the new-comer, motioned 
 him to a seat on the bench. 
 
 " You will excuse our merriment, sir," he said, " but your coun- 
 tenance showed such manifest perplexity, that we could not hcli) it. 
 It is nothing. The boys don't often see a dress hat, and they must 
 have their joke. They have a vague idea that none but Yankees 
 wear them." 
 
62 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "And they take me for a Yankee?" said Miles. 
 
 " Hardly. A gentleman of that nationality would not be likely to 
 come to these headquarters — unattended. You passed a sentry or 
 two ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Miles ; " but they also criticised my hat. I told 
 them I had a letter for General Smith, and they allowed me to 
 pass." 
 
 " Ah ! I am he, sir," said the officer. 
 
 Miles produced his credentials, and while the general perused the 
 letter he glanced at the strange surroundings. The soldiers had 
 already returned to their amusements, forgetting the stranger, and 
 intent upon their cards and pipes. The boy had fastened his horse, 
 removed the saddle, and was busily rubbing the animal down with 
 a handful of straw. The officers were variously attired, none of 
 them having a regular military costume, all wearing long boots 
 with spui-s, and distinguished from the rank and file chiefly by theii' 
 red sashes and long sabres. Over all there was the indescribable 
 appearance of reality, as contradistinguished from the trim equip- 
 ments of holiday soldiers. 
 
 " You are welcome, Mr. Miles," said the general, as he finished 
 the letter. " Let me present my friends : Major Ilurd, Captains 
 Stanly and Green. Mr. Miles, gentlemen, from England." 
 
 The officers arose and greeted the new-comer. 
 
 "My correspondent informs me," said the general, "that you are 
 merely taking a holiday trip through the country. I suppose you 
 know you are quite near our outer lines ?" 
 
 " I heard to-day that a Federal force was near," replied Miles, 
 " but I do not know how near." 
 
 " Our pickets have exchanged compliments this afternoon," said 
 the general; "we shall all be better acquainted with our visitors 
 to-morrow. May I offer you some whiskey ? It is not very good, 
 but the best we can get." 
 
 " I thank you, no. If you gentlemen will join me, I have some 
 cigars in my wallet." 
 
 " It would be absolutely deceitful in us to refuse," observed Major 
 Hurd, " as we have not seen a real cigar for a month." 
 
 While they smoked the two captains walked apart on the piazza 
 engaged in earnest discourse. It was evident that the Englishman's 
 arrival was the subject under discussion, as they glanced at him from 
 time to time. When they threw away the stumps- of their cigars, 
 they approached and unfolded the topic of the colloquy. 
 
ANNOT. G3 
 
 "General," said Captain Stanly, " Green and I liave been talking 
 about Mr. Miles, and his accommodation for the night. With your 
 permission I will ride over to Dale's, where he can get an eatable 
 su|)per and a bed." 
 
 " Certainly," replied the general ; " Mr. Miles, you will be wel- 
 come. Mr. Dale is a countryman of yours by birth. We cannot 
 make you comfortable here, and hospitality is best shown by securing 
 the comfort of your guest. We are on the eve of battle, and must 
 stiiy with our men. It would be highly indecorous in any of us to 
 sleep under the roof of a habitable house to-night." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Miles. " Docs Mr. Dale keep a house 
 of entertainment — an inn?" 
 
 " There are no inns within forty miles of us," replied Captain 
 Stanly, smiling; "but in this country we do not need them. Do 
 not hesitate on that account, however. I will ensure you a cordial 
 welcome. Tom, saddle the gentleman's horse, and bring mine also. 
 General, I will return within the hour. It is only a siiort distance, 
 Mr. Miles." 
 
 Miles offered no further objection, but mounting his tired horse, 
 dropped a silver half-crown into the black palm of Tom, whose 
 eyes grew to the dimensions of the coin, as he looked alternately at 
 its shining surface and at the retreating form of the donor. Silver 
 was scarce in that latitude. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Annot. 
 
 THE level rays of the setting sun shone in the faces of the eques- 
 trians as they rode away from the school-house. They were 
 challenged twice by sentinels within half a mile of the camp, but 
 were allowed to })rocee(l, after a whispered word from Captain Stanly. 
 Turning from the main road, they rode a mile through the forest, 
 and when they emerged from the shadow, they were on the edge 
 of a vast cornfield, separated from the woodland by the ordinary 
 worm fence, with which Miles had grown very familiar in his day's 
 ride. At the end of the field they entered a lane, bordered by 
 hedges of the Osage orange, the dwelling of Mr. Dale coming into 
 view at the terminus of the lane. 
 
64 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " This hedge looks very home-like to me," observed Miles ; " it is 
 the first I have seen in America." 
 
 "Yes. Mr. Dale values his hedge more highly than his house. 
 He has cultivated it six or seven years. I hope the track of the ^var 
 will not mar this neighbourhood, but one can never tell." 
 
 " I have a great desire," said the Englishman, with some hesita- 
 tion, "to see a battle. If it would be proper, I should like to ride 
 back to-morrow, if you gentlemen anticipate " 
 
 "It is tolerably certain," replied the soldier, laughing, "that we 
 shall have a little debate to-morrow. But I cannot tell you just 
 when or where. You cannot see much, however, without incurring 
 some risk." 
 
 "I suppose not," said Miles, coolly. "The only question re- 
 lates to the propriety in the case. As an Englishman and non- 
 combatant " 
 
 "Oh, there will be plenty of 'outsiders,' as we call them. News- 
 paper correspondents, embryo surgeons, and some chaplains. The 
 latter somehow get mixed up with their charges though, and make 
 first-class fighters." 
 
 " Fighters !" said Miles. "Surely you do not mean clergymen?" 
 
 " Certainly ! Our parson is a long-legged Scotch-Irishman from 
 North Carolina, and he has done a man's work in a dozen battles 
 already. He never allows his boys to go into action without a 
 prayer beforehand. Come over in the morning, and I will intro- 
 duce you. Here is the gate. Allow me to pass you. I can open 
 the latch with my sabre." 
 
 A good-sized wooden house, of two stories. A broad verandah 
 along the whole front. An old gentleman shading his eyes with his 
 hand, watching their approach, and a young lady at his side, at the 
 top step of the verandah. Climbing plants entwined about the pil- 
 lars, the Virginia creeper, the honeysuckle, the wistaria, and the 
 jessamine. Instead of the trim lawn, there were numerous flower- 
 beds, wherever the trees, which stood in clumps, would allow the 
 sunlight to reach the earth. 
 
 "That is she!" said Captain Stanly, in a half- whisper ; "Miss 
 Dale. Ah ! if I could only join your party to-night, instead of 
 prowling about in the woods, catching a mouthful of sleep where I 
 
 can, and smoking corn-cob pipes ! Your servant, Mr. Dale ! 
 
 Miss Annot, it is very tantalizing to be allowed only this brief greet- 
 ing ! I have brought you a visitor, Mr. Dale ; a countrj-man of 
 yours, Avho brings letters from Charleston to the general. We 
 
ANNOT. 65 
 
 have ventured to ofTer him the hospitalities of Dale Manor to-night, 
 as our accoinuKMlatious are not very inviting. Mr. Miles, sir. Mr. 
 Dale and Mi^^s Dale." 
 
 "You are welcome, gentlemen," replied Mr. Dale, descending the 
 steps, with his hand extended. "Dismount. Here, Toby! taUe the 
 hoi*ses." 
 
 " Alas !" said Stanly, " I am obliged to return to camp. I cannot 
 even dismount, lint I hope to return to-morrow nigiit, if — notiiing 
 happens in the meantime to prevent. Good afternoon. Miss Annot, 
 please do not sing ' Annie Laurie' until I come to hear it. Good 
 night, Mr. Miles." 
 
 Mr. Miles mounted the verandah steps in a cold per>pi ration. A 
 thousand thoughts rushed over his mind, and always uppermost, the 
 painful sense of high indecorum of which he was guilty, in thrusting 
 himself, an unbidden guest, uj)on this household. He looked back 
 at Captain Stanly, cantering down the lane, and half resolved to 
 ride after him. In the midst of his confusion, he met the dark eyes 
 of the lady as she advanced and offered her hand. 
 
 " Father will be too exacting to allow much music to-night, Mr. 
 Miles. It was very kind to come. Walk in." 
 
 "I do not know what apology to offer. Miss Dale," stammered 
 Miles. " You know, and /know, this is an unwarrantable intrusion. 
 Yet when the gentlemen over there proposed it, there seemed to be 
 such an air of proprietorship about them all, that I was too stupid 
 to see the matter in its true light. And now, if you will allow 
 me to ride back, after a short visit, I will be very grateful. The 
 moon " 
 
 " Must have exerted an evil influence upon you !" said ^Nlr. Dale. 
 "What! Leave us to-night? Ho, ho ! You will be lucky if you 
 are allowed to go to bed. Come in, sir ! The house is yours. You 
 will have to talk incessantly until the short hours. I assure you, 
 your visit is a real godsend to us, and you have a thousand welcomes. 
 An Englishman, too! Mr. Miles, he said " 
 
 " Yes," replied Miles, " that is the name I bear. But I cannot 
 enter a countryman's house as a guest under false colours. Miles is 
 my name, but not my patronymic. Will you admit me, with this 
 much of an explanation? I brought a cargo from our country to 
 Charleston, running the blockade, and I left the half of my name 
 in England." 
 
 " The other half of your name is not Brentam ?" said Mr. Dale, 
 confidently. 
 
 6 
 
66 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " No," answered Miles, startled ; " certainly not." 
 
 " Then own my house ! Don't you know how those Spanish fel- 
 lows do? In speaking of their houses they always add, 'which is 
 also yours.' In their case it is only surface politeness. In my 
 case it is a genuine welcome. Annot, my child, Mr. Miles will dine 
 with us; none of your suppers! Toby! Take Mr. Miles to the 
 octagon room and wait upon him. The more entirely you feel at 
 home, sir, the more you honour me. Here is the staircase." 
 
 Miles, escorted by his black attendant, ascended the stairs. The 
 octagon room was over the verandah, and he could see from the 
 window the end of the hedge- bordered lane and the forest beyond. 
 Toby danced around him, plying his brush and removing the travel- 
 stains from his garments. When he descended to the lower story, 
 he found his host and Miss Dale seated in the drawing-room. Din- 
 ner was announced when the candles were brought in, and the visitor 
 did ample justice to the meal. He had been living upon cigar smoke 
 since an early breakfast, and he relinquished his knife and fork with 
 a sigh, after an hour's steady occupation. 
 
 " We are living upon our own resources," observed Mr. Dale, "and 
 wine is not within reach. Milk in abundance, however." 
 
 "It should be called nectar," replied Miles. "Really, I am 
 ashamed of my voracious appetite ! It is due to your matchless 
 climate, Mr. Dale. Nothing more, I thank you." 
 
 " AVell, let us go on the verandah and smoke. How beautiful the 
 night is ! Do you notice the chirp of night-birds and insects, as 
 different from those that we hear in dear old England ?" 
 
 " Dear old England !" echoed his daughter. " Shall I ever see 
 England ?" 
 
 "Annot was born in Charleston," explained Mr. Dale. "She 
 calls herself an English maiden, though. She heard a singer in 
 New York, some celebrated tenor, singing ' The Maids of Merry 
 England.' Go sing a verse, Annot. Let Mr. Miles be pleasantly 
 reminded of his fair countrywomen." 
 
 She obediently passed into the drawing-room, and presently, after 
 a short prelude. Miles heard her voice — a grand soprano — filling the 
 room and floating out into the night. He sat entranced, trying to 
 catch the meaning of the words, and then forgetting them for the 
 melody. She sang two stanzas, and while he still dreamed she 
 glided back to her seat by her father's side. 
 
 " A fine song," said Mr. Dale. 
 
 " It is most beautiful," said Miles, half to himself. " How does 
 
A KNOT. G7 
 
 it happen that such a voice is buried in this Western wilderness? 
 Exi'use me, Miss Dale, I did not mean to say that in your hearing. 
 Did I sav wilderness? This is a veritable paradise! Since I landed 
 I have not encountered many attractions to wean me from my native 
 land. I have been living with traders and rough seamen, intent on 
 monev-making — longing for Somerset " 
 
 " Somerset !'' s;\id Mr. Dale, interrupting him. " Do you come 
 from Somerset?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You spoke of Glasgow so constantly at dinner that I concluded 
 you a Scot." 
 
 " I sailed from Glasgow." 
 
 " Somerset ! Do you happen to know Hawkley ?" 
 
 " Y'es." 
 
 There was a half-hour of silence. The gentlemen smoked. Miss 
 Dale sat patiently waiting for the conversation to be resumed. Her 
 father w:us apjiarently absorbed in his own thoughts. At last he 
 turned abruptly to Miles. 
 
 " Will you pardon me if I ask a question or two? Do not answer 
 me if they are improper. Y''ou spoke of traders just now. Are 
 you a trader?" 
 
 " I am supercargo of a blockade-runner at present." 
 
 " And at other times ?" 
 
 Miles hesitated. 
 
 " Do not answer, my friend. Let us go in, and Annot will give 
 us some music." 
 
 " But I would rather answer if you will allow me. I inherited 
 some little property. It is encumbereil. I earnestly desire to be 
 free from debt, and therefore I am blockade-running. A foolish 
 pride, I suppose, made me desire to earn the money I need without 
 the knowledge of my associates. If I can get out with my ship, 
 and get back to England with a cargo of cotton, I will have enough 
 for my purpose." 
 
 " Pray say no more, Mr. Miles," said his host. " It was not 
 merely curiosity that prompted the question, however. Let us 
 go in." 
 
 As they passed in, following Annot, Miles touched the arm of his 
 host. 
 
 " I will ask permission to propound a question or two, also," he 
 whispered. 
 
 " As many as you please," replied Mr. Dale. 
 
68 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Not now. Miss Dale, if you will sing that song once more " 
 
 " You will assist me ?" she answered. 
 
 **' Let me hear it first, please. If I capture the melody, I will try 
 the bass." 
 
 Song followed song as the swift minutes sped away. In turning 
 over the music, INIiles .selected a song and placed it before her. It 
 was "Annie Laurie." She quietly substituted another and sang it. 
 After some delay he uncovered it again, and set it up on the music- 
 desk. 
 
 " You do not care particularly for that ?" she asked. 
 
 " Not if you prefer anything else," he ansM-ered. 
 
 " I will sing anything else you would like," she said, with a 
 troubled air. Miles suddenly remembered the parting words of Cap- 
 tain Stanly, and was astounded to feel a jealous pang shoot through 
 his heart. While he still meditated, she continued : " Oh, this hor- 
 rible, horrible war! Do you hear the guns?" 
 
 " I have heard something like shots occasionally," replied Miles, 
 looking into her pale face with genuine sympathy. He had choked 
 the jealousy. 
 
 " Only the pickets exchanging compliments," said Mr. Dale. 
 " They are miles distant, Annot." 
 
 " Yes, father," she answered, vehemently, " but we hear them ! 
 Oh ! if we could only fly from the dreadful sound ! I really cannot 
 sing any more to-night. What horrible discord those sharp reports 
 make ! Oh for the time when He shall make wars to cease !" And 
 her gentle eyes were moist as she closed the piano. 
 
 " Poor child !" said ]Mr. Dale. " We will go to Charleston, 
 Annot, in a week or two " 
 
 "And hear the constant cannonade from the forts and ships!" 
 said she. " Every time I hear the spiteful snap of the guns yonder, 
 I think some poor woman may be a widow — some poor child an 
 orphan. Oh, the wickedness of war !" 
 
 " You are the first woman I have met in America," said Miles, 
 " who does not strenuously advocate war." 
 
 " Yes, and therefore the war continues. But my interests are not 
 identical with theirs, because we are English, and have an English 
 home. Oh, father, let us go home !" 
 
 "My dear," replied Mr. Dale, "there are certain obstacles in the 
 way. I cannot sell this Dale's Manor, and I have not enough money 
 to litigate for the other Dale's Manor. We have a little patrimony 
 in Somerset, Mr. Miles, which we think is unjustly withheld from us. 
 
SOME LETTERS. G9 
 
 If I oiniltl gain possession of that I would gladly return. But the 
 present holder is a cold, hard man, and an enemy." 
 
 Miles had an indistinct memory of Dale's Manor as a portion of 
 the estate of Mr. lirentam. It was an extensive tract of farm lands, 
 south of tlie mills and the villajice. The name clung to it only in 
 the traditions of the villagers, and he had scarcely heard it since his 
 boyhood. 
 
 " I have a confused recollection of a S[)ot sometimes called Dale's 
 Manor," he said, after meditating some minutes; "I think it is near 
 Brentam Mills." 
 
 '•Yes." 
 
 " Anvthinjr vou choose to tell me about it shall be held confidcn- 
 tially. I confess a burning curiosity, but I would not presume to 
 ask any questions." 
 
 "You are an English gentleman," answered Mr. Dale, "and I 
 will tell you tlie story without conditions. Sit here by me, Annot, 
 and correct me if I go astray in my narrative. Take the arm-chair, 
 Mr. Miles." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Some Letters. 
 
 ^T^HE monotony of Hyland's life in the north country was broken 
 -■- one day by the arrival of a mail from Calcutta. There were 
 three letters for him: two from Englan<l and one from Calcutta. 
 Kecognising the hand of his brother in the address of one of the 
 English letters, he opened that first. The reader luus already had 
 an extract from this letter, but there was a postscript added, that 
 engrossed Hyland's attention. 
 
 ''Since writing the foregoing, my dear brother," it ran, "I have 
 j^roposed to Miss Carey and have been rejected. I cannot account for 
 it, except upon the general ground of my un worthiness"-^ Miles was 
 too true a gentleman to tell even Hyland that Mildred had in- 
 timated her preference for another) — " or upon the supposition tiiat she 
 may like some other fellow better. It has discomposed me somewhat, 
 yet I do not at all feel that life is a blank to me henceforth. Neither 
 do I think of renewing the attiick. They say a lion only jumps 
 once for his prey. If he misses the first conp^ he does not essay a 
 
70 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 second, but just marches off. I return to my original programme, 
 namely : to live single, and leave the title to you and your lieirs. 
 
 " However, I do not intend to leave you an incumbered estate, 
 and am therefore about to engage in an enterprise that looks promis- 
 ing to me. It is a close secret, brother, and I will tell you about it 
 when — it is accomplished. Meantime I am going to disappear — do 
 not be alarmed — I am not going to incur any risk of bodily damage. 
 I have been concocting the scheme ever since you left me, and I 
 feel tolerably confident of success. But my partner enjoins strict 
 secrecy upon me, and I have his pledge also to the same effect. If 
 you do not hear from me for, say, six or eight months, just conclude 
 that I am spending the summer and autumn in Siberia, making 
 surveys for railway lines. You know I am an accomplished engineer, 
 and do not be foolish enough to indulge in any apprehensions on my 
 account. I think lean promise to conmiunicate with you within six 
 calendar months. Possess your soul in patience thus long, brother. 
 
 " I may confess that my recent disappointment makes me the 
 more eager to engage in this new affair, as I desire the cares that 
 will necessarily devolve upon me to banish the memory of this failure. 
 But if I had been fortunate in my suit, I should still have under- 
 taken this enterprise, as I am resolved to get Hawkley clear if pos- 
 sible. My rental is nearly four thousand pounds, and if I had no 
 incumbrances I should feel rich enough. 
 
 "And now, Hyland, good-bye for a short time. I may not be 
 able to write you, the mail facilities in Siberia are defective, you 
 know. Keep writing to me as usual. I hope to find a good budget 
 of letters waiting for me at Hawkley when I return. 
 
 " Your affectionate brother, 
 
 " Miles." 
 
 Poor Hyland was stunned. Somehow there had grown up be- 
 tween these two men a sense of proprietorship on one hand and of 
 dependence on the other. Hyland was so much more prompt and 
 aggressive in his character, that Miles had fallen under a sort of 
 tutelage, and Hyland always felt a responsibility upon himself when 
 thinking of the elder. At Eton, once and again, Hyland had 
 thrashed a bull-headed "commoner," who was seeking a quarrel 
 with his brother simply because he was a " nob," and on both oc- 
 casions Hyland had adroitly managed to induce a previous quarrel 
 with the bully, without the knowledge of Miles. The fight, by Eton 
 law, was Hyland's right, and his brother did not dare to interfere. 
 
SOME LETTERS. 71 
 
 Ami ill later life Hylaiul had devised ways of egress from financial 
 diffienltics, ntilizing Lord Itayneford's own resources, wisely and 
 well. And now, he felt that Miles had siuldenly snapjjcd the leading- 
 strings; and with the inevitable conceit of youth, he fancied tiiat all 
 would go wrong without his oversight. " New enterprise !" he mut- 
 tered ; "more likely some old humbug that I could have exploded 
 if I had been there! Siberia! I have a great mind to start on 
 an overland journey to that charming country and look the fellow 
 up! But Siberia is not the objective-point. The letter is clear. 
 He names Siberia as the most distant j)lace from his real destination. 
 Probably he has gone to the antipodes. I think I will explore 
 Patagonia! I wish I could find him, and he could cease being 
 my brother for ten minutes till I punched his head! Dear old 
 Miles !" 
 
 Then Hyland opened the other English letter. This was written 
 fully two weeks later, and was from Mr. Plimpton. 
 
 " My dear Kayneford," it began, " I am so heartily delighted with 
 your assured success in India, that nothing short of very grave anx- 
 iety would impel me to interrupt your career or disturb you in your 
 present occupations. Your brother. Lord llayneford, has unaccount- 
 ably disappeared. Do not be alarmed. There is not the slightest 
 reason to suspect anything like foul play or to dread any personal 
 danger. But he is gone, and positively nobody knows whither ! He 
 has gone of his own accord, and after the most deliberate preparation. 
 And he has taken elaborate measures to conceal his purposes and 
 destination from every one. I went down to Somerset, and spent 
 some hours with Mr. Brentam, who received his last communication, 
 and who could give me not the slightest clue as to his whereabouts. 
 Mr. Brentam allowed me to copy the note, which was quite brief. I 
 reproduce it for your benefit : ' My dear ^Ir. Brentam, I have decided 
 to leave England to-morrow, and shall be absent some months, 
 having certain matters in charge of considerable importance. The 
 business that takes me away is one in which another person is deeply 
 interested, and we are mutually bound to keep all its details secret. 
 Although somewhat out of the beaten track, it still involves little 
 risk of bodily harm, and I expect to return to Plawkley within six 
 months or less. I will take measures to communicate with you, if 
 necessary, and if any unforeseen calamity should overtake me, you 
 will be notified as soon as possible thereafter. I enclose the legal 
 authority for you to take charge of my interests, if any exigency 
 should arise, in the matter of rental, etc. Very truly yours, Rayne- 
 
72 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 ford.' That is all. This note was dated in Liverpool, Monday, 8th 
 instant. I <Vent to Liverpool, and by searching the records found 
 only one ship left that port on the 9th. It was the 'Asia,' for Mel- 
 bourne. It hap})ened that I met a detective — a Mr. Dancer, whom 
 I have employed on one or two occasions with great success, and I 
 told him the story. You see, I am the only near connexion of your 
 family here, and I felt bound to leave no eflTorts untried to assure 
 myself of his present safety. In two days Dancer brought me the 
 assurance that Miles had not sailed in the ' Asia.' He had been at 
 the Adelphi Hotel, and had taken his luggage on the morning of the 
 9th in a cab, without leaving any orders. Dancer, with his usual 
 pertinacity, hunted up the cab, and after assuring himself by several 
 proofs that he had the right one, he questioned the cabby, and learned 
 that he had taken Miles to the Lime street station, and saw him on 
 the train for Bristol. Here the trail was lost. But Dancer is still 
 * working the case.' I should say, he is a private detective, and no 
 one knows of his employment except myself. 
 
 " Now, what do you think of the matter? Here is a young noble- 
 man of spotless reputation, of sober habits, suddenly disappearing 
 from the surface ! There has never been any case of insanity in the 
 family. There was nothing in his circumstances to induce him to 
 withdraw from society. He was engaged to read a paper on the 
 Poor Laws before the Humanitarian Society this week, and had 
 half promised to spend three days with me in London, but he ex- 
 cused himself a week before he left from both engagements, upon 
 the plea of ' urgent private business.' He has paid up some small 
 obligations maturing six months hence, and methodically prepared 
 for an absence of that duration. 
 
 " If you are in his confidence, pray enlighten me enough to relieve 
 my anxiety about him. But I do not believe he has told even you 
 of his intentions. It really seems to me, Rayneford, that I should 
 cut India and hunt for him, if he were my brother. 
 
 "Your friend and kinsman, 
 
 " H. Plimpton." 
 
 "This is improving !" said Hyland ; "Miles runs mad and ab- 
 sconds, and then Plimpton runs mad and sets a detective on him ! 
 And I shall run mad and complete the trio, unless I go back to 
 England. Ah, this other letter is from Glendare. No mistaking 
 his calligraphy. Let us see if he has gone mad also." 
 
 " My dear friend," said Mr. Glendare's letter, " Daltman tells me 
 
SOME LETTERS. 73 
 
 a nmil will go to the plantations to-morrow, and I will avail myself 
 of the opportunity to say a few wonls to you. It seems like a year 
 since we parted, and I have had no chanee to communicate with you 
 since tiie arrival of your ' Quinia' letter. By-the-bye, that letter 
 created a great stir in our camp at Xnttagur. Doctor Leigh scouted 
 your American friend's theories, and to prove his errors he inconti- 
 nently cured Miss Haidee without exhibiting your darling remedy. 
 In a few days after your missive arrived, she discarded all her head- 
 gear, and has had no symptt)nis of neuralgia since. It is a pity you 
 did not put Doctor Leigh upon his mettle earlier, as you woidd have 
 been able to discover for yourself how attractive the child is. She 
 is really very pretty, and if she would (piit novel reading and take 
 a eoui*se of substantial literature, she would soon rival her sister. 
 
 " Colonel Mordaunt seems to be failing, and Doctor Leigh tells 
 me he will certainly be compelled to quit this climate very soon, to 
 preserve his life. He was ordered back from \uttagur a month 
 ago, and Calcutta makes him worse. He is still reticent, as of old, 
 and discloses none of his plans, but I have reason to think he is 
 projecting a trip to England. Frank certainly is. And do you 
 know that I am ex})ecting to go with them? Certain family matters 
 combine to call me home. Come with us, Rayneford." 
 
 "Here is the third madman," said Hyland. 
 
 "Colonel Mordaunt says," continued the letter, "you can easily 
 get leave of absence. Indeed, he volunteered to hint that a word 
 from him would secure that, and at my suggestion he has already 
 taken the initial steps. You see, my friend, I would not have you 
 take the long journey to Calcutta upon an uncertainty. We shall 
 have an excellent ship, the 'Lord Clive' steamer, twelve hundred 
 tons, sailing on the 22d. Frank is going to sell out when he reaches 
 England ; at least, he says so. He has iidierited some money, and 
 he does not think India furnishes a field for spending equal to his 
 talents. To indicate his ability, I may mention his last purchase. 
 Caj)tain Morgan had a yacht, now at Cardiff, and at tiffin yesterday 
 he hapjiened to speak of the expense of keeping the vessel in repair. 
 He had just paid some large amount for a complete overhauling. 
 Master Frank asked why he did not sell out. Morgan replied, 'All 
 the fools who have enough tin to buy a yacht already own one.' 
 Frank asked the name of Morgan's vessel. The * Juliet,' schooner, 
 eighty-five tons. What did she cost? About two thousand pounds. 
 'I'll give you a thousand,' said Daltmau. 'Done!' said Morgan, 
 ' with the cheque.' " 
 
74 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Frank bids me write you to join him in a cruise three months 
 from the present date. He will sail out of Cardiff, steer north, and 
 circumnavigate Great Britain." 
 
 " Here is one more madman than I needed," said Hyland. " Dalt- 
 man professes to abominate salt water, yet he buys a vessel, arranges 
 a cruise, and invites me to bob about on the short waves of the 
 Channel for weeks ! Declined, with thanks ! Let us finish the 
 letter though." 
 
 ''Since writing the preceding page," concluded Mr. Glendare, "I 
 have seen tiie colonel. The application is granted. Four months. 
 You cannot accept Frank's invitation unless you get an extension 
 of leave. Nevertheless, come quickly, and we will reorganise our 
 Nuttagur party on board the 'Lord Clive.' Remember the 22d, 
 and hasten. " Your friend, 
 
 " Hamish Glendare." 
 
 Hyland picked up the enclosure that fell out of his friend's letter. 
 It was the regular announcement of leave on the printed form, re- 
 questing the Honourable Hyland Rayneford to report for duty at 
 Calcutta " four months from the 22d of the current month." 
 
 There was a great deal of sound common sense in Hy land's com- 
 position, but there was also an instinctive antagonism to " manage- 
 ment." Whenever his quick discernment detected another's purpose 
 to lead him or drive him, there always arose the prompt determina- 
 tion to resist the influence. It is by no means certain that this trait 
 was an indication of weakness, or a defect in his character. It may 
 be the instinctive recoil of normal humanity from creature domina- 
 tion. Whether created or evolved, man is the lord of the earth. 
 If created, he was made in an exalted image; if evolved, he was 
 the fittest that survived, and the survival includes royalty. Within 
 proper limits, the consciousness of high station does not involve 
 self-conceit ; but beyond those limits it degenerates into arrogance 
 and insolence. 
 
 "Now," said he, as he meditated upon the letters, "a trip to 
 England was just what I desired before I read Glendare's letter. 
 But he did not know that. Neither did the colonel, or Mr. Daltman. 
 They have arranged their plans, and my movements are a part of 
 them. We shall see." 
 
 Four days after he re-read the letters. In the meantime he had 
 concluded that his brother was safe, and had increased his resentment 
 against Mr. Plimpton, because he had presumed to hunt for Miles 
 
ON THE SEA. 75 
 
 " with hawk ami hoiiiul, the fussy old granny !" But there had 
 also grown up in him an irrepressible longing to see Miles. So on 
 the fifth (lay he was on his way to Calcutta. 
 
 lie arrived on the 22d, and found two notes, one from Colonel 
 M(.r(hiunt, giving his address in England, " 14 George Crescent, 
 Bath." Tiie other Wiis a scrawl from Daltman, the ink scarcely dry. 
 
 *' Dear Raynefoiid — You have not arrived, and the ship sails 
 in ten minutes. Mildred writes that your brother is off to the Con- 
 tinent or somewhere else, and asks if you have heard from him. 
 Mr. Brentam does not know where he is. Better come on in the 
 next steamer. Yacht will be all ready in sixty days. Morgan says 
 she sails like a witch. Don't know how a witch sails. We shall 
 have a jolly time on the * Clive,' but we shall miss you. Why the 
 deuce didn't you come ? " ^ ours, 
 
 " Daltman." 
 
 The black smoke from the funnel of the " Clive," far down the 
 Hoogly river, was all that Ilyland ever saw of the steamer. 
 
 At nightfall a one-armed native presented himself, as Hyland 
 sucked at his cheroot. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib ! Another ship sails in two days. Will sahib 
 go? Zeba will go also. Colonel Sahib gave Zeba ticket for other 
 ship, but he waited." 
 
 "Did you wait for me, Zeba?" said Hyland, touched by the 
 Hindoo's manner. 
 
 <' Yes, sahib. Help find. Got tulwar." And he touched the hilt 
 of his weapon. " And got one arm and one eye left." 
 
 " One more madman !" thought Hyland, looking into the sharp 
 black eye of the native. 
 
 CHAPTER XTV. 
 
 Ox THE Sea. 
 
 HE " Bengal" was a screw-steamer from Calcutta, bound for 
 London, with an assorted cargo, and having limited accom- 
 modations for pa.ssengers. The previous steamer was the regular 
 passenger vessel, and had tiiken out a goodly company, so that Hy- 
 
 T 
 
76 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 land and Zeba were the enly voyagers, excepting the officers and 
 crew, that steamed away from the mouth of the Hoogly river into 
 the bay of Bengal on one hot morning. Zeba, who had come aboard 
 in the habiliments of European civilization, relai)sed into Asiatic 
 barbarism as the ship began to rise and fall upon the regular swell 
 of the sea, and resumed his muslins. 
 
 The first days at sea are usually delicious, except to the sufferers 
 from mal de mer. To a thinking man, if free froni cumbering 
 cares, the horizon presents an array of vast problems, which are not 
 readily solved, but which demand attention throughout one entire 
 day at least. And the after-monotony does not conn)letely banish 
 them from the mind. The eifect of the expanse of waters upon 
 Hyland was to arouse his philosophy, and the results of this 
 awakening were sundry entries in his diary. 
 
 "Out here upon this hot sea," he wrote, "five feet eleven seems 
 to dwindle down to modest dimensions. If I were to stick a pin in 
 the dome of St. Paul's, it would make no appreciable addition to the 
 weight, and would be invisible at the distance of a vard. But the 
 proportion of the pin to the dome would be a thousand times greater 
 than my proportion to this vast sea. Nay, the ship might slip 
 under one of those big waves and go down, hardly adding a bubble 
 to the restless ocean. But there are thirty men on board, and each 
 one has some link binding him to the earth. And the ship and 
 cargo represent pounds, shillings, and pence. 
 
 "There is that heathen Zeba, in scarlet jacket and white kilt; one 
 sleeve pinned up, one eye darkened. He is hanging his tulwar, 
 naked, to the rigging. And now he is walking around it, as it 
 swings to and fro. And now he is spread out upon the deck watch- 
 ing it. Ah ! he takes the weapon down, and slips it deftly into its 
 scabbard with his single arm. 
 
 "Zeba has just passed me with his 'Salaam, sahib!' I asked 
 him what he was doing with his sword. He said, ' Sahib's brother 
 yonder! ship sail straight to him.' Then he walked aft, and has 
 gone to sleep on his mat. I asked the mate how we were steering. 
 He says, ' A bit noath of west.' Now, if my geography is not at 
 fault. Miles must be at the Canary Islands or the * still vexed Ber- 
 moothes.' \Yhat atrocious humbug ! 
 
 " How shall I record a philosophical explanation of this mental 
 phenomenon ? To state the case first : The Hindoo, who is of 
 Brahmin blood, practises some superstitious rite with his tulwar. 
 When he finishes, he tells me, with superb confidence, that Miles is 
 
ON THE SEA. 77 
 
 nearly due west from mc. So great an impression docs this make 
 uiK)n me that I ainnot rest until I learn from the mate the exact 
 direction. And this very minute 1 am (•oii;itatin<i; a selieme to test 
 the tulwar again, when we make our highest south latitude. 
 
 "Now, an educated Englishman, who has no more respect for 
 Indian superstition than he has for the senseless chattering of mon- 
 keys, is seriously impressed by the incident. Zeba looked thoroughly 
 in earnest, watching the sword swinging in the rigging with unwink- 
 ing vigilance until it ceased rotating, and then, accepting the oracle's 
 response, went to sleep. I suppose all the ])hilosophers in the world 
 could not shake his faith in the tulwar. AV^hile I, Hyland Rayne- 
 ford, knowing Kant and Spinosa and Descartes, am under some 
 degree of bondage to the solitary eye of this heathen. Because the 
 gleam of his eye was the first thing that impre&sed me when he 
 said, 'Salaam, sahib!' I Nvas compelled to ask him what the tulwar 
 said. 
 
 " Kant asserts that freedom is the postulate of the pure, practical 
 reason. Causality, in the sense implied by freedom, belongs to man 
 in so far as he is a thing-in-itself. But causality, in the sense implied 
 in the mechanism of nature, belongs to him in so far as he is a sub- 
 ject of the realm of appearances. Here is the case then : on one side 
 noumenon ; on the other side, phenomenon. 
 
 "How, then, can my freedom, which is an essential attribute of 
 my personality, be invaded by the sham phenomena of a heathen 
 rite? In iact, I do not know that there were any phenomena. I 
 know nothing, except the Hindoo's devotion to me, which, after all, 
 I only infer. Can there be some secret law — dynamical— :underlying 
 the superstitious observances of the heathen ? What is the genesis 
 of superstition ?" 
 
 "While Hyland was weaving these metaphysical cobwebs, Zeba was 
 quietly dreaming on his mat, the rays of the tropical sun beating on 
 his prostrate body. The day before the "Lord Clive" sailed Zeba 
 had overheard a discussion between Daltman and Mr. Glendare, 
 in which the prominent fact was the disapi)earance of Lord Raync- 
 ford, and the missionary had asserted very emphatically that Hyland 
 would certainly go to England to seek his brother. The devotion 
 of the Hindoo to Hyland was not demonstrative, but it was real. It 
 reached its climax at the tiger fight, though months of kindly inter- 
 course while the two threaded the jungle in Hyland's surveys had 
 generated respect and esteem on both sides. Rayneford was con- 
 stantly reminded of the acute intelligence of the native, who learned 
 
78 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 everything and forgot nothing. Zeba studied with curious interest 
 the character of this English sahib, who never swore at him, never 
 manifested contempt by look or gesture, but provided for his com- 
 fort on all occasions with spontaneous kindness. But in the short 
 colloquy preceding the combat Zeba recognised the warrior, and 
 since the days of Tubal Cain the warrior has been acknowledged lord 
 among all the tribes of earth. Haidee dubbed Hyland " Knight." 
 Zeba called him "Sahib," and meant it. 
 
 Four hundred miles southwest of the " Bengal" a far more brilliant 
 company was gathered under the awning covering the quarter-deck 
 of the " Lord Clive." There was very little wind, and what there 
 was came from the south, so that the motion of the ship increased 
 the apparent force of the breeze. The colonel was lying in a grass 
 hammock swinging between the mizzen-mast and the wheel-house. 
 Miss Mordaunt, having conscientiously undergone the conventional 
 forty-eight hours of agony in the dark recesses of the ladies' cabin, 
 was propped up with pillows against the skylight, receiving the po- 
 lite attentions of Mr. Daltman. Mr. Glendare and Dr. Leigh were 
 pacing the deck and talking })olitics. 
 
 Haidee had waited upon Juliet through three or four hours of 
 actual sickness, which began with the first tremulous roll of the ship 
 off soundings. Then came the other hours of querulous discomfort, 
 and Juliet dismissed her and demanded the ayah. The doctor pre- 
 scribed a teaspoonful of brandy every two hours, which the ayah 
 faithfully administered, and as faithfully stole a tablespoonful for 
 herself at shorter intervals, which she took neat. So Haidee betook 
 herself to the deck, with the " Chronicles of Sir John Froissart." 
 Mr. Glendare had adroitly substituted this volume for the lighter 
 literature in which Haidee was accustomed to revel. At present she 
 was totally engrossed in the conflict between Sir Bertrand du Gues- 
 clin and the Captal De Buch. It was nearly as good as "Ivanhoe." 
 Hot knights, broiling in hot armour, chopping each other with 
 sword and battle-axe, w^hile she sat on a pile of cushions in the 
 shade. 
 
 "I wonder what detained Rayneford ?" said Mr. Daltman. 
 " Hamish gave him three or four days extra time." 
 
 "Probably he prefers Lidia," replied Miss Mordaunt, languidly. 
 
 " But here was a free trip, and no abatement of pay !" said Dalt- 
 man. " I suspect he desires to stand well with John Company, and 
 expects his zeal to be remembered. He told me he was after the 
 rupees." 
 
ON THE SEA. 79 
 
 " He is in a fair way to <>;ct them," observed the colonel. " Sir 
 John told nie that he was reluctant to spare llaynclbrd, who was the 
 best man at the jilantations." 
 
 "Is the pay large enough, colonel," asked Daltman, "to compen- 
 sate a man for such a life?" 
 
 "It is a very pleasant life," said the colonel. "The climate is 
 temperate as compared with Calcutta. The pay is about four times 
 as great as that of an army lieutenant, and he has no mess expenses." 
 
 " It seems to me," mnttered Daltman, " that the pay of civilians 
 is too great, or the pay of army-officers is too small. Here I have 
 been knocking about from the Cape to India three or four years, 
 living among the African niggers at one place, and the rascally 
 Hindoo niggers at the other, and coming out in debt at the end of 
 each year! If my good old aunt had not remembered me in her 
 will, I should have been in the Gazette. Now Mr. Rayneford just 
 steps into a comfortable revenue without the slightest trouble or 
 risk or exi)osure. It is all luck ! There was that tiger business. 
 Rayneford's luck put him in the exact spot to bag the game !" 
 
 " It seems to me," said Haidee, shutting Frois.sart up with a snap, 
 "that Mr. Rayneford walked up to the exact spot, looking for the 
 luck ! There was nobody between him and the tiger except poor 
 Zeba. Papa, why did Zeba not come with us ?" 
 
 " He asked permission to wait for 'Sahib Hyland,' " replied the 
 colonel. "He confidently expected him, and at his request I trans- 
 ferred his ticket from the ' Lord Clive' to the ' Bengal.' " 
 
 "How could the Hindoo expect Rayneford?" asked Mr. Glendare, 
 pausing in his walk. 
 
 "Zeba is a necromancer," replied Colonel Mordaunt, reluctantly. 
 
 " Go on, papa, please," said Ilaidee. 
 
 " Your head is full enough of nonsense already, child," said the 
 colonel, smiling, " but you know something of the superstitions of 
 the western provinces. Many of their delusions are connected with 
 their weapons. For example: if a man kills a tiger with a sword- 
 stroke, in a fair encounter, the sword becomes an oracle thereafter. 
 The responses are thought infallible if the warrior's blood is mingled 
 with the blood of the beast on the blade. Zeba has been practising 
 his black-art with his tulwar, and it told him Rayneford was coming 
 to Calcutta." 
 
 " But Zeba did not fulfil the conditions," said Daltman. " He 
 did not kill the tiger outright." 
 
 "No. But he says Rayueford is Lord of the tulwar." 
 
80 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " The conditions are still halting," replied Daltraan ; " Zeba had 
 already shot the brute before Rayneford encountered liim." 
 
 "No," said the colonel; " Zeba's bullet was flattened against the 
 rock. He brought it to me a day or two after Leigh let him out of 
 hospital. The tiger was in full vigour, and totally unharmed," 
 
 " I thought so," murmured Haidee. 
 
 " It is very curious," pursued the colonel, " but the conditions 
 were very accurately met at all points, liayneford demanded the 
 weapon at the first appearance of danger. He refused to relinquish 
 it, when you demanded it, in turn. Zeba missed his shot, and 
 Rayneford conquered by his unaided prowess. And while he held 
 the dripping tulwar in his wounded hand, his own blood ran down 
 over hilt and blade." 
 
 " That is true," murmured Haidee ; " I saw it !" 
 
 "How the — deuce does the tulwar reveal its secrets?" said Dalt- 
 man; "can it talk?" 
 
 " Zeba translates its mysterious responses by his own methods," 
 replied the colonel. " I do not understand them. His caste is the 
 Chehteree, and he is an undoubted noble. I found him a dozen 
 years ago at Lahore. He stt\nds next to the Brahmins, and would 
 die rather than occupy a servile position. I made him corporal, and 
 have always had unlimited confidence in him. He talks all the 
 dialects, but while he was delirious, he jabbered constantly in the 
 Pracrit. Haidee understood him. Her ayah, Sista, is from Lahore 
 also, and she has caught the lingo from her. During the mutiny, 
 Zeba brought Haidee and Sista to me, out of the very jaws of death, 
 travelling over forty miles through a country filled with enemies." 
 
 " His fighting days are over," said Dr. Leigh. " With one arm 
 and one eye gone, he is only half a man." 
 
 " He would give a good account of himself," replied the colonel, 
 " with an ordinary antagonist. I have seen him toss his tulwar 
 whirling in the air, catch it by the hilt with his left hand as it fell, 
 and slice off the top of a post four or five inches in diameter." 
 
 " The savage !" murmured Juliet. 
 
 " The warrior !" whispered Haidee. " Papa," she continued, 
 aloud, " you do not explain what Zeba meant by ' Lord of the 
 tulwar.' " 
 
 " Mr. Rayneford became Lord of the tulwar when he slew the 
 tiger. And the oracle, according to Zeba's superstition, cannot 
 withhold its response when he consults it, or when it is consulted in 
 his behalf. It is all abominable nonsense, of course, but living so 
 
OK THE SEA. 81 
 
 many years among these people, one is more or less influenced by 
 their superstitious notions. A month's residence in England will 
 brush away all these cobwebs." 
 
 Ilaidee went back to her own cushions with Froissart. She read a 
 few pages, and then the monotonous shiver of the ship as the screw 
 revolved and the monotonous wash of the sea induced somnolency. 
 So she fell asleep, with the book on her lap. She dreamed that she 
 had somehow exchanged places with the Captal De Buch, and that 
 she was suddenly surrounded, captured, bound and carried off. She 
 saw the long lances of her captors, and felt herself borne swiftly 
 away, though she still recognised the rise and fall of the sea. She 
 heard the clank of armour, steel scabbard rattling against steel 
 boot. She heard the voice of Du Guesclin, ordering careful treat- 
 ment of the captive, and all the while she felt the roll of the 
 ship. This was very confusing, and opposed to the record in Frois- 
 sart. 
 
 In spite of her romance she was a girl of extraordinary sense, 
 so she bejmn to ask herself what Du Guesclin had seized her for. 
 Money? This was not at all chivalrous, but she had a dozen sov- 
 ereigns in her pocket, and she had a vague idea that this sum was 
 a small fortune in Du Guesclin's time. 
 
 Now suppose she offers what money she has for her liberty ? 
 
 That would accomplish nothing. Because these strong men can 
 take the money whenever they like. Better say nothing about it. 
 Ransom? Of course, there must be a herald or something sent to 
 her father. How can she get a herald ? Sujjpose she sent Sista, her 
 ayah ? The old wretch would fall asleep forty times in a mile. If 
 she could only get Zeba ! 
 
 There is Zeba, coming across the plain, tossing his tulwar up in 
 the air, and catching it as it descends, and then pausing to examine 
 it closely, hilt and blade. He does not notice her. He is too 
 intent upon his mummery to notice anything. 
 
 Ah ! here comes a knight to her rescue ! He pauses to confer 
 with Zeba and takes his tulwar. It is Sir Ilyland's tulwar. But 
 this new-comer is grey-bearded and decrepit. See ! He opens his 
 visor and shows his wrinkled face. Nevertheless he is preparing 
 for battle, while Zeba composedly seats himself on the ground to 
 watch the conflict. 
 
 The knight has changed his mind ! He dismounts, props his long 
 lance against his saddle, while the steed stands motionless as a statue. 
 The knight approaches Zeba, and sticks the tulwar in the ground. 
 
 6 
 
82 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Now he and Zeba are circling round the weapon in a kind of solemn 
 dance. 
 
 Now he takes off his helmet, throws his shield upon the ground, 
 and, with his grey locks and beard streaming in the wind, approaches 
 her captors — and she awoke. 
 
 Zeba was taking his dream at the same hour on the sunny deck 
 of the " Bengal." He got his arm back in his dream, and was 
 doing some very valiant fighting in the Punjaub. Anon, he was 
 threading the jungle under the starlight, carrying Haidee, while 
 Sista crept along behind him. Then he was in a land of fogs and 
 snows, as his imagination painted England, following Sahib Hyland 
 in his search for his brother. This brother was under the control of 
 some wicked Afreet, and Zeba was perpetually circumventing the bad 
 spirit by consultations with the charmed tulwar. 
 
 Hyland was conversing with the second mate, an old sea-dog, 
 who was going to England on his last voyage. Mr. Jones was a 
 Welshman, and he was eloquent in describing the beauties of his 
 native principality. He was hopelessly deaf, and carried a small 
 slate swung to his neck, and Hyland conversed with the pencil. 
 The old sailor liked grog, also, and could never have reached Eng- 
 land as a ship's officer if the " Bengal" had not sailed out of the 
 Hoogly at a time when navigators were exceedingly scarce, and his 
 infirmity was forgiven for the sake of his undoubted seamanship. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The Battle. 
 
 THE grey dawn found Mr. Miles in the saddle. He had heard 
 at intervals, through the previous night, the spiteful snapping 
 of musquetry, but was not fully roused from his slumbers until the 
 more prolonged roar of heavier metal ushered in the coming day. 
 As he collected his faculties and took in his surroundings, which 
 seemed gorgeous in comparison with the rude entertainment he had 
 hitherto found, he recalled the vehement words of Annot on the 
 previous evening, and hoped she slept well enough to escape the 
 sounds of conflict, while his window-sashes rattled with each dis- 
 charge of artillery. He could sympathise with her in her horror of 
 the strife as he pictured the heaps of human bodies, torn and shat- 
 
THE BATTLE. 
 
 83 
 
 tered only a mile or two distant. Sleep was out of the question, so 
 he cliT^^sal rapicllv, while the eager desire to see the battle grew 
 ui)on him It was inevitable; the instinctive impulse of man- 
 IuhhI that drew him down-stairs and out upon the broad verandah. 
 Here he found Toby, putting the final touches upon his horseman s 
 
 ' *' Vh Toby '" he said, " you are astir early. Are those my boots?" 
 "Yes, massa," replial Toby, "jest finished. You hear dem 
 
 shootin's? 'Spect dat what woked you up. Dey's flingm' dem 
 
 bustin' balls over yonder !" 
 "Shells?" said Miles. 
 "Shells! Sho' as you born! Dat fight must be down in de 
 
 Long Hollow." , . , ^ 
 
 " Where is it, Toby ?" asked Miles, as he drew on Ins boots. 
 
 " Not fur from de school-house, sah." 
 
 " Can you get my horse, Toby ?" Miles was getting excited. 
 
 "Sartain, sah! Walk in to breakfus'-roora. You gwine over 
 yonder?' Take cup of coffee fust. Heah some cold chicken. Git 
 some breakfus' while I saddle." 
 
 Instead of going to the school-house, :Miles skirted the cornfield 
 at the entrance-gate, and guided by the sounds of strife, growing 
 more distinct every moment, he reached the crest of a little hill, and 
 caught sight of veritable battle smoke. He was as brave as became 
 a man of gentle breeding, vet the first glimpse of that sombre cloud 
 seemed to check his pulsations. There was a slight elevation oppo- 
 site his hill, less than a mile distant, the " Long Hollow" lying be- 
 tween. From this vantage-ground came the shells, now actually 
 visible as they burst into flame over a strip of woodland on his left. 
 He could see moving figures under the trees, and the incessant streaks 
 of fire, preceding the sharp report of the rifles, on the edge of the 
 covert.' Notwithstanding his ignorance of warfare, it was apparent 
 to him that the object on one side was to dislodge the infantry in 
 the woods, while the return fire could do little damage to the distant 
 battery. There were no signs to indicate which side was Confeder- 
 ate ami he debated whether he had better ride onward to the wood, 
 or retrace his steps, and seek his friends of the previous evening at 
 the school-house. AVhile he sat irresolute, he heard the tramp of a 
 galloping horse, and turned his head in the direction of the sound. 
 A youtl^of eighteen or twenty swept by him on the instant, touch- 
 ing his cap as1ie passed, his long scabbard rattling against the side 
 of the magnificent horse. 
 
84 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Better move off the road, sir !" he shouted : " the cavalry \\\\\ be 
 here in a minute or two." 
 
 Miles turned from the road and cantered into a broad meadow, 
 passing through a gap in the fence. The rails had been recently 
 pulled down, and were thrown in a pile on the roadside. There was 
 the track of horse-hoofs and of wheels, cutting the soft grass of the 
 meadow, all recent, and he remembered passing the road on the pre- 
 vious day, when there were no such marks visible. Presently a 
 horseman came through the gap, then another and another, and then 
 a troop, trotting four abreast. Before they overtook him he had 
 reached a narrow valley, the dry bed of a water-course, and the 
 fortified hill and the wood were l)oth hidden. 
 
 " Halt !" The order ran along the line and the officer in command 
 rode up. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Miles." It was Captain Stanly. " Did 
 the salutation of the gentlemen on the hill awaken you ?" 
 
 " I heard the reports of large guns," answered Miles, shaking the 
 other's offered hand, " and could not resist the temptation to come 
 out." 
 
 " Ah !" said the other. " We are about to silence them. If you 
 
 will ride back to the gap, you can probably see Hillo ! That 
 
 shell was intended for us ! There is another ! Attention ! Captain 
 Green, take two companies and ride back to the road. Take the 
 left hand and join me at the north gap, where those fellows passed 
 through last night. They will think their shells are driving us 
 back. The woods will hide you after you reach the road. If I 
 reach the gap before you, you have only to follow. Forward !" 
 
 "The devil take the hindmost!" said Green, as he dashed away. 
 
 "May I go with you?" asked Miles, as Stanly resumed his trot. 
 
 " It will be quite warm up there," answered Stanly. 
 
 " Well, the morning air is quite cool," said Miles. 
 
 " I cannot give you the permission," said Stanly, gravely, " neither 
 can I forbid your presence. But I strongly advise you to go back." 
 
 " Many thanks," replied Miles, touching his horse with the spur. 
 " Only tell me what I must do and what avoid. I desire to be as 
 near you as I may, but would not violate proprieties." 
 
 " Your principal occupation will be to dodge shells. When we 
 reach the north gap we shall be in full view, and then we shall ride 
 over that battery. But the present owners will object, and we must 
 ride a full half-mile in the face of the storm. They will exchange 
 shells for grape, and if I bring two hundred men back with that bat- 
 
THE BATTLE. 85 
 
 tciy, I sliall be thankful. Hard was badly wounded this morning, 
 and I am senior captain." 
 
 Miles glanced backward, and tried to count. There were about 
 five hundred men in the regiment, and Green had taken nearly two 
 hundred of them. The rain of shells which had been falling in the 
 low valley, before Green's departure, had now passed to the main 
 road, and Stanly's party was in comparative safety. 
 
 They halted again at the edge of the meadow, waiting the arrival 
 of Green with his command. Peering through the undergrowth. 
 Miles was astonished to see the strip of wood suddenly yield up 
 a long line of foot-soldiers, their bayonets gleaming in the sunlight 
 as they dashed down the Kollow. 
 
 " Kow, then," said Stanly, whirling his sabre from the scabbard ; 
 "gentlemen, the general wants yonder battery. Let us get it for 
 him. Here comes Green at a gallop ! Draw, boys, and follow !" 
 
 A roar of cheers burst from the troopers as they plunged through 
 the gap in the fence, answered by a terrific yell from the infantry 
 racing across the Hollow ; answered by the rattle of musquetry from 
 the base of the hill crowned by the battery ; answered by the shower 
 of grape-shot that tore through their ranks and emptied their sad- 
 dles, until Miles, fiiscinated, saw Stanly leap his horse over the low 
 earthworks, and heard the ringing steel, as a hundred sabres clashed 
 with the bayonets of the footmen. In another moment the Confed- 
 erate infantry rushed, panting, into the conflict, while the remnant 
 of the cavalry urged their horses up the hill, into the very mouths 
 of the cannon, which were belching out death at every step of their 
 mad career. 
 
 Years afterwards ISIiles recalled that horrible scene, and the 
 prominent picture engraved upon his memory was the copper-coloured 
 gun, the blue smoke curling from its muzzle, the begrimed fiice of 
 the gunner as he went down under the stroke of Stanly's sabre the 
 instant before that gallant cavalier rolled out of his saddle, and while 
 the hoarse shout of victory resounded on the hillside. 
 
 Miles knelt by the side of the fallen soldier and took his hand. 
 
 "Are you hurt, sir?" said Stanly. 
 
 " No. But you are." 
 
 " Yes. I caught a bayonet in my thigh as I crossed the ditch. 
 And I think I have a bullet in my body. Something struck me 
 just as I cut that poor fellow down. Could you get a drop of 
 water?" 
 
 Miles looked around him. The dead artilleryman was lying prone 
 
86 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 upon his face by the wheel of his gun. There was a tin cup tied to 
 his belt. Miles cut the strap, and went down the hill, at whose foot 
 a little stream trickled through the grass. He dipped up a cupful 
 of the water, and finding it mixed with red, he dashed it down in 
 disgust. He thought of Annot's horror of battle and bloodshedding, 
 and wondered what fiend had tempted him to look upon such ghastly 
 scenes. He ran along the brook up-stream, and found a clear spot, 
 filled the cup and reclimbed the hill. Stanly was propped up against 
 the knee of a stranger, who was examining the wound in his breast. 
 He looked up as Miles approached. A sturdy gentleman with great, 
 kind eyes, now full of sympathy. A brown beard covering his 
 face, and a thoughtful air all over him. 
 
 " Let me add a little to your cup," said the stranger, producing 
 a flask ; " your friend is hit hard." 
 
 " The doctor," thought Miles, giving the drink to Stanly. The 
 frown was gone from his brow, and there was a pleasant smile on 
 his lips. 
 
 " Many thanks, gentlemen," he said. " Mr. Miles, I have only a 
 few minutes left. Please open my coat. Thank you ! There is a 
 
 ribbon Ah ! you have it ! The locket. Take it to her. Tell 
 
 her I stole it. Good-bye !" 
 
 The stranger laid the body softly down upon the grass. 
 
 " He was a born warrior !" he said. " I saw him coming across 
 the ditch, and saw him get his death-wound. I — I saw something 
 like it once before. At Balaklava." 
 
 "You are a countryman !" said Miles. 
 
 " Yes. For you have the English speech." 
 
 " Is he dead, doctor ?" said Miles, pitifully. 
 
 " Quite dead. The femoral artery is cut, and a bullet is in his 
 right lung. By-the-bye, I saw you also, when you crossed the 
 ditch, but you were unarmed. Was this gentleman your comrade?" 
 
 "I never saw him until last night. I hardly know how I got 
 into this mad gallop. I suppose my horse bolted with me." 
 
 " Yes. And you drove your spurs into his sides as you leaped 
 the breastwork," answered the stranger, dryly. 
 
 "I was riding by Stanly," muttered Miles, confusedly, "and 
 somehow I felt that his enemies were mine. But I have enough of 
 this. AVhat a horrible sight, doctor! Here are a score of dead men, 
 who were alive ten minutes ago. Poor Stanly ! How can I tell 
 her !" 
 
 " Her r said the other. " Had he a wife ?" 
 
rut: BATTLE. . 87 
 
 " No. I do not know certainly, but it is probable that a foir girl's 
 life will be darkened by this sad event. Can 1 do anything?" 
 
 "Nothing, I fancy. Yonder is the surgeon. I am not a doctor, 
 only a volunteer hospital steward. The tight is over. Did you ever 
 heiir of anything so mad lus that charge upon the battery? If I had 
 been in command on this hill, I should have swept those fellows 
 from the face of the earth ! It was the utter insanity of the attempt 
 that gained the success." 
 
 " Were you on the hill?" asked Miles, feeling a little antagonism 
 arising in liis mind. Without knowing it, he had become decidedly 
 partisan. 
 
 " About the same time you arrived," replied the other, coolly. 
 " I came with the infantry from the M'ood yonder. How now, 
 Tom ?" he continued, as a foot-soldier limped up. " What is it?" 
 
 " The doctor wants you, Mister Boston," said the soldier. " Goin' 
 to cut off Blake's leg! Say, mister!" addressing Miles, "hadn't 
 you better come outen that hat ?" 
 
 Miles started as he recognised the sentry who had given the same 
 advice on the previous afternoon, and who had protested against the 
 title of " Tar-heel." 
 
 "Ah, my friend!" replied Miles, " I am happy to see you again. 
 You have had some rough work on hand since we parted." 
 
 " Yaas !" replied the soldier ; " it was rayther lively comin' through 
 that Hollow. Them woods ain't half a mile off, but I'll be dogon'd 
 if it wa'n't six mile when we come through on the double-quick !" 
 
 " Was the gentleman — Mr. Boston, you called him — was he with 
 you ?" 
 
 " Reckon he was. No call to be thar, neither. The cap'n allowed 
 he must stay in the woods. But he allowed some of the boys mout 
 want him, so he just trotted along with us. Many a time when one 
 of our fellers was just turnin' his toes up, Mr. Boston has knelt down 
 by him to git a message or talk some religion. He can saw off a 
 feller's leg as good as the doctor, and he can preach as good as the 
 parson." 
 
 " He does not belong to your side," said Miles — " that is, he was 
 not born in your country." 
 
 " No. I suppose he was horned a Yank, as his name is Boston. 
 But he could not help that, could he? Anyway, he is true grit. 
 Hello! who is this? Jim Stanly, and dead as a hammer! Oh, 
 heavenly Marster !" 
 
 And the rough soldier fell on his knees by the body, covered his 
 
88 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 grim countenance with his hands, while the tears trickled between 
 his fingers. 
 
 " Oh, Jim !" said the soldier, between the sobs that burst from 
 him, " if I only knowed the man that done this, I'd have his life if 
 I followed him to the gates of hell !" 
 
 " My friend," said Miles, deeply touched by the other's distress, 
 "be comforted. Captain Stanly fell, sword in hand, at the head of 
 his regiment. He did not suffer half an hour. And he lived long 
 enough to send his last messages to those he loved." 
 
 " Did he mention me — Bill Hardy ?" said the soldier. 
 
 " Not to me. Mr. Boston was with him, while I went to the rill 
 for some water. He only lived a few minutes after I got back. 
 What does the trumpet mean ?" 
 
 "The recall. We've won this skrimmage, but we've paid an 
 awful price for it. Here comes the old man." 
 
 And he arose, caught up his gun, and stood erect and stern, pre- 
 senting arms as General Smith, followed by his staff, rode down the 
 hill. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Miles," said the general. " This is a sad 
 blow. Poor Stanly ! Hardy, get three more men and take his body 
 to Dale's Manor." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 Robbery. 
 
 THE fight referred to in the previous chapter occurred on the 
 border of East Tennessee. The forces engaged were very 
 nearly equal, the Federal army having a battery of six guns and 
 their adversaries a cav^alry regiment. It was a small affair, not 
 more than six or eight thousand men in both forces, and was im- 
 portant so far as it checked the Federal advance, and chiefly because 
 of the capture of the artillery. 
 
 Miles rode back to Dale's Manor, while Hardy and his comrades 
 were constructing the rude bier to convey Captain Stanly's body to 
 the cemetery. It was a little church-yard on the border of the estate. 
 When he reached the gate, and while he was debating the question 
 as to how he should break the sad news, he was startled to hear a 
 pistol-shot and a scream for help, evidently coming from the house. 
 He dashed the gate open, and gallopped to the verandah. There 
 
ROBBERY. 89 
 
 were three liorscs, with fragments of harness hanging abput them, 
 fastened to posts near the door. Tlien he remembered seeing two 
 or three artillerymen striving to carry oft' one of the guns on the 
 hill, and when the impetuous charge of the cavalry made this impos- 
 sible, they cut the traces and rode down the hill on the opposite side. 
 He threw himself from the saddle and rushed into the drawing-room. 
 
 Mr. Dale was on the tloor, a soldier stooping over him, with pistol 
 in hand still smoking. Miss Dale was on the sofa, one soldier hold- 
 ing her down, while the third was tearing her watch from her neck. 
 The look of horror, mingled with eager expectation on her face, 
 brought him to her side at a bound. He cauglit up a water-pitcher 
 from the table, and dashed it to fragments on the head of the nearest 
 soldier. The other released Miss Dale and half drew his sabre, but 
 Miles was upon him, throttling him before it left the scabbard. In 
 the fierce struggle his spur caught in the carpet and he lost his 
 balance, and as he fell there was another pistol-shot, and he rolled 
 over unconscious. 
 
 When General Smith, followed by a dozen officers, rode into the 
 grounds at Dale's ^lanor, he was surprised to see three blue-coated 
 soldiers gallopping down towards the stables, somewhat encumbered 
 with baggage. AVHien these last-mentioned gentlemen reached the 
 stables and found a high picket-fence between them and the woods, 
 they dropped their baggage in the bushes, slipped from their saddles, 
 and began to climb this formidable obstacle. And when each of 
 them felt the points of three sabres penetrating his nether extremi- 
 ties, each one dropped on the ground, surrendering at discretion and 
 howling with pain. 
 
 " Bring them to the house, Green," said the general ; " tie them 
 up securely, and let us see what they have done." 
 
 The scene in the drawing-room was appalling. Annot Dale ap- 
 parently lifeless on the sofa, and two apparently dead men on the 
 floor. Toby crept valiantly from under the verandah as soon as 
 the marauders were securely bound, and summoned the servant-girl 
 from the kitchen. Miss Dale was gradually restored to conscious- 
 ness, and was able to give a coherent account of the matter. The 
 three men had ridden up to the verandah, dismounted, and seeing her 
 and Mr. Dale through the open w^indow, had entered the drawing- 
 room. They asked for whiskey, and her father replied saying there 
 was none in the house. One of them then demanded money, and 
 jNIr. Dale asked him " if he was a soldier or a robber?" The soldier 
 struck him, and her father seized a chair, and as he raised it the 
 
90 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 soldier drew his pistol and shot him. At the same moment the other 
 two seized her. Then Mr. Miles rushed in and grappled one of the 
 soldiers, and while struggling w'ith him was shot also. This was 
 all she knew until they aroused her from her swoon. 
 
 The measured tread of the soldiers bearing the body of Captain 
 Stanly interrupted her recital, and while they paused upon the lawn, 
 ]\Ir. Boston entered the crowded apartments. He seemed to take in 
 the situation at a glance, and, kneeling by the side of Mr. Dale, care- 
 fully examined his wound. Then crossing the room, he examined 
 the prostrate body of Miles. 
 
 "General," he said, rising from the last investigation, "these 
 gentlemen should have prompt medical attendance." 
 
 " Is there any hope ?" whispered the general. 
 
 " Hope !" replied the other, aloud ; " certainly ! Neither is fatally 
 injured. If you will send for the surgeon " 
 
 " Mount my horse, Bascombe ; he will take you over fences," said 
 the general. " You will find Doctor Nicholls at the school-house. 
 My compliments — and request him to come instantly. Miss Dale, 
 \fe will carry your father up-stairs. Be hopeful." 
 
 She had caught the arm of the last comer, and was trying to see 
 into his soul through his frank blue eyes. 
 
 " Be hopeful, madam," he repeated ; '^ I would not say so if I 
 doubted. It were hideous cruelty to deceive you with false hopes. 
 Your father's case is not at all desperate." 
 
 "And Mr. Miles?" she said, pointing over her shoulder. 
 
 " His hurt is even less serious. The bullet has cut some locks of 
 hair, but I think the bone is untouched. In an hour we shall have 
 a professional opinion. I have seen many worse cases than these 
 recover very rapidly. This gentleman is recovering consciousness 
 even now." 
 
 Two or three men raised Miles from the carpet, and propped him 
 up on the sofa. He gazed around the room with a perplexed coun- 
 tenance. The general, assisted by Captain Green, was carrying ]\Ir. 
 Dale into the hall, his daughter holding his nerveless hand in hers. 
 
 "It is Annie, bonny Annie Laurie!" said Miles, attempting to 
 rise. " The brute is actually holding her ! Kill ! kill !" 
 
 '■' This is a favourable symptom," observed Mr. Boston, quitting 
 her side. " So long as men desire to fight, the chances are on their 
 side. Let us take Mr. Miles to his room also." 
 
 " Fust door at top of de sta'rs," said Toby. " Ef I had been 
 heah when dem robbers come, I'd a made sure of a couple of 'em ! 
 
ROBBERY. 91 
 
 Door on de right, sah ! And, Mtvssa Doctor ! you'd best come down 
 sta'rs ag'in. De sogers done begun to search de pockets of dera 
 robbers. ^lebbe you'd best see what dey find ! I seed Miss Annie's 
 watch-chain. All deni sogers alike! Dey all steal chickens. 'Spec' 
 dey all steal watches too !" 
 
 *' Hardy," said General Smith, " give Mr. Boston whatever valu- 
 ables you find. Will you please take charge, sir? I will come 
 down in a niiinite or two." 
 
 Mr. Boston found the three prisoners on the grass, their arms tied 
 behind their backs. The North Carolina warrior was kneeling by 
 the side of one of them, and industriously emptying his pockets. 
 Close by the ])rostrate robbers was the rude litter of boughs, upon 
 which the body of Captain Stanly reposed in sombre silence. Three 
 or four soldiers stood by the litter, waiting for orders to take up the 
 burden and resume their march to the church-yard. There was a 
 little heap of spoons and forks, three gold watches with chains on 
 the green lawn. One chain of delicate workmanship was strung 
 out like a golden thread, and upon this Toby pounced instanter. 
 
 " Dis Miss Annie's watch, sah !" he said, lianding it to Mr. Bos- 
 ton. • " Dat b'long to ]Mass' Dale. Dis is ISIister Mileses. I seed 
 him windin' it dis mornin'. He jest screw de handle round. Don't 
 hab no key. Dem spoons and forks all ourn. Dey done stole five 
 times more. Sarch de boots, cap !" 
 
 " Seems to me you're running this business, Mister Nigger !" said 
 Hardy, discontentedly. " Say ! Yank ! turn over ! I want t'other 
 pocket." 
 
 " Nauthin' in t'other pocket," growled the prisoner, " 'cept my 
 knife." 
 
 " Well, dogon your trifling picter, I want the knife ! Turn over !" 
 
 The soldier groaned as he turned. The sabres of his captors had 
 scarified his legs. 
 
 " AVhat sort of meat do you cut with this knife?" said Hardy, 
 drawing out a gold locket suspended by a blue ribbon. " This looks 
 like another watch. Blood on the ribbon, too. Say, Cuffee ! whose 
 is this?" 
 
 " Dun'no !" answered Toby. " You may swar it was stole, any- 
 how. Sogers don't go ridin' round wid dem things in de pocket." 
 
 "Whose is it, Yank?" asked -Hardy. "Dogon the thing! it 
 won't open !" 
 
 "Give it me. Hardy," said Mr. Boston. "I think I know the 
 owner. You took it from Mr. Miles, friend, did you not ?" 
 
92 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Don't know ary Mr. Miles," replied the prisoner. 
 
 "The gentleman who arrived while you were robbing the lady," 
 said Mr. Boston, composedly; "the one you shot last." 
 
 " Didn't shoot nobody," retorted the soldier ; " never drawed ray 
 pop at all. The man you mean smashed my head with a pitcher, 
 dern him! I found the watch on the floor." 
 
 " Here's some more forks, Sambo !" said Hardy. " How many 
 forks does your master own, anyway?" 
 
 " Nebber counted," replied Toby. " An' my name's not Sambo, 
 nor Cuffee neither. Aint got no mars'r, neither." 
 
 " Hello !" said Hardy, turning the prostrate soldier's pocket inside- 
 out; "look here! gold and silver! Say, Yank ! have you been in 
 the mining business ?" 
 
 " Dat b'longs to Mr. Miles too," said Toby ; " he done gib me one 
 of dem silver pieces when he got his breakfus'. Dese cavaltry sogers 
 beats de debble for stealin' ! You see dey can tote more. No gold 
 or silver in dis house for sartin. Mr. Dale done sent all he had to 
 Charleston." 
 
 " It must be as he says," observed Mr. Boston ; " these are all 
 English coins, and Mr. Miles came from England." 
 
 " Guess he won't go back !" growled the prisoner. " Dern him ! 
 He can't walk around loose with a ball in his skull." 
 
 " These were his coins ?" said Mr. Boston. 
 
 " I s'pose so," answered the other. " There, Johnny E,eb ! you've 
 skun me out purty clean. Give me a chaw of that tobaccer, will 
 you ?" 
 
 " Can't waste tobaccer on you, Yank," replied Hardy, biting off 
 a piece as he spoke. " Mighty scaase in these parts." 
 
 " It's my own tobaccer, dern you !" 
 
 " Yes ; and I reckon these spoons and forks was your own, too. 
 But they are all confisticated, you see." 
 
 General Smith appeared upon the verandah, followed by the 
 officers who had carried the wounded gentlemen to their rooms. 
 The body of Stanly was once more raised from the ground, and 
 the procession moved out the west gate. The spire of the little 
 church was visible over the treetops, and the church-yard was soon 
 reached. A squad of soldiers had been despatched to this spot im- 
 mediately after the battle, and had already dug the grave, and had 
 constructed a rude coffin, into which the body was placed. Mr. 
 Boston read the burial service, and the sad ceremonies were soon 
 over. 
 
ROBBERY. 93 
 
 As they returned to Dale's Manor, General Smith walked apart 
 with Mr. Boston. 
 
 " My friend," Siiid tlic general, " is it your intention to return to 
 England, as you said last night?" 
 
 " Yes. I must go to Charleston first, and then try for home." 
 
 " We shall miss you. I thought your heart was in our cause at 
 first, but I have discovered that all your sacrifices of comfort have 
 been made only in the general cause of humanity. You have 
 stricken no blow on our side." 
 
 " Xor on the other. You will join the main array in a few days, 
 general, and my services will be less needed. But a voice is calling 
 me out yonder in the far East, and go I must !" 
 
 " A female voice ?" asked the general, slyly. 
 
 " Ha !" said the other, with a whimsical face, " how can one 
 distinguish at such a distance ! But it seems to say * Come !' and, 
 by the Three Kings, I would ride over ten such batteries as that 
 you took so gallantly to-<]ay to obey the mandate." 
 
 " What a shame it is," said the general, looking into the daunt- 
 less eyes of his interlocutor, " that a fellow of such stuff as you are 
 made of should be a mere civilian !" 
 
 " Well," said the other, sheepishly, " I have done a little soldier- 
 ing in my time." 
 
 " Not here, surely !" 
 
 " Xo. Over there. Beyond the sea. It is a very unsatisfactory 
 occupation, and I'll nonje of it, unleas, indeed, England should call 
 me again. But I thought of staying a day or two here, until my 
 countryman is better. Don't you think there is some soldier stuff 
 in him, too? I mean Mr. Miles." 
 
 " He is a hero !" responded the general ; " and this reminds me. 
 I think — or at least, Green says he thinks, that poor Stanly was 
 pledged to Miss Dale. I passed through Dale's Manor with his 
 body, because I fancied she might desire to be present at his burial. 
 But it is possible that the shock of this murderous assault and the 
 dangerous condition of her father would make the present an in- 
 opportune time to tell her of Stanly's death. Will you please 
 break it to her ?" 
 
 " Perha{)s. But Mr. Miles received his last words. Better wait 
 until he recovers." 
 
 " Well, take charge of the matter. And now, good-bye. Here 
 comes Bascombe with Dr. NichoUs, and I can get my horse. To- 
 night my command moves. I must ride over to my quarters and 
 
94 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 prepare for the march. Ah, Mr. Bascombe, you will have to walk 
 back. My compliments to Captain Green, and request him to re- 
 port at once at headquarters with his command and prisoners. 
 Doctor, please leave your instructions with Mr. Boston." 
 
 The grounds of Dale's !Manor were cleared before the sun disap- 
 peared behind the church spire. The doctor promised speedy re- 
 covery to Mr. Dale. Mr. Miles would be better to-morrow. Miss 
 Dale had retired for the night, leaving ]\Ir. Boston in charge of both 
 patients, under Doctor Nicholls's orders. 
 
 Mr. Dale slept fitfully. Once in the night he called " Annot" in 
 a dreamy voice. Mr. Boston leaned over him and listened. 
 
 " Annot !" said Mr. Dale. 
 
 " What will you have, sir ?" whispered Mr. Boston. 
 
 " They have not found everj-thing. I have the silver, but the 
 picture is gone !" 
 
 " What picture ?" 
 
 " Do you not know ? Yours, mine, ours." 
 
 " Be patient. It will be found." 
 
 " In the locket, you know," said Mr. Dale, dozing again — " I 
 mean the Clifton Picture." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Annie Laurie. 
 
 ON the day after the battle the sun arose upon the Long Hollow, 
 where all was calm and peaceful. A long mound crossed the 
 valley at the hill-foot. Yesterday it was the breastwork over which 
 the cavalry had charged. To-day it was merely the same soil re- 
 turned to the ditch, but covering the mortal remains of three hundred 
 men. The war had spread out its crimson skirts to that remote 
 corner, and drifted away again towards the sea-coast, leaving the 
 mound as a memorial of its visit. Victors and vanquished had 
 disappeared in the night, and bountiful nature soon spread her green 
 mantle over the long ridge, the grass taking brighter hues and more 
 vigourous growth from the festering mass beneath. 
 
 Mr. Dale recovered rapidly. On the second day he was well 
 enough to hold long consultations with Mr. Boston, whom he entirely 
 monopolized. Mr. Miles was feverish and required more nursing, 
 
ANNIE LAURIE. 95 
 
 and Miss Dale divideil her attentions between her father and their 
 guest, giving tlie hitter the larger moiety lus her father improved, 
 yiie was at Mr. Dale's bedside at nightfall, when Toby put his black 
 head in at the door and beckoned her out. Toby was major domo, 
 literally, since the day of the battle, and he felt the pressure of the 
 household cares. His hair curled more crisply. The " whites" of 
 his eyes dilated, and he moved about the mansion with a solemn 
 dignity that struck awe into the bosom of " 'Manda," the cook and 
 housemaid, whom he dominated with stern authority. 
 
 " He done call for you. Miss Annie," whispered Toby, as she 
 passed into the hall, " and I reckon he's outen his head ag'in. If you 
 will please watch him a minute, I'll go down to de spring and git 
 some cool water." 
 
 " Better send Amanda, Toby," said Miss Dale ; " I might need 
 you." 
 
 " Werry well, misse ; only 'Manda sich a goose, she's afeared ob 
 her shadder." 
 
 " Well, go yourself, then, Toby, and tell Amanda to remain within 
 call." 
 
 Miles was lying with his face to the window. He put out his 
 hand as she approached, and she noted the brightness of his eyes 
 and the faint flush on his forehead. 
 
 " Forgive me for calling," he said, his face full of perplexity, 
 " but how am I ever to tell her?" 
 
 " Tell whom ?" He lay quiet several minutes, meditating. 
 
 "Annie Laurie! Bonny Annie Laurie! 'I'd lay me down and 
 die.' And that is just what he did. She wouldn't sing it, you 
 know ! Heavens ! She'll never sing it again !" 
 
 " Shall I sing for you?" she said. 
 
 " Aye ! But you cannot sing that., you know." 
 
 " I will sing anything you prefer " 
 
 " England expects that every man, this day — certainly ! England 
 is right ! What is on my head ?" 
 
 " Only a napkin. I will have some cold water presently." 
 
 " I swear to you," he broke out, earnestly, " I stuck by his side 
 through it all ! It was a gallop into the very jaws of Tophet ! 
 Great sheets of sulphurous flame and a hail of bullets! But 
 where he rode I rode. When he leaped into a forest of sharp 
 steel I leaped also, and I had not so much as a riding-whip in my 
 hand!" 6 r / 
 
 She turned to see who entered the room. It was Mr. Boston. 
 
96 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Tell her countryman," continued Miles, " I never drew back 
 an inch. And he died with his hand in mine. But how the devil 
 can I tell her !" 
 
 " No matter now," answered Mr. Boston, gently, " you shall tell 
 her anon. I saw you ride. Here, let me moisten your napkin again 
 and bind it on your head. Ah, this is cool ! Toby, give me a glass. 
 Drink a little, Mr. Miles." 
 
 " She cannot sing that, you know," observed Miles, confidently, 
 after drinking. " She will never sing it again. I did not know how 
 I loved her until I thought of that ! I did not know how much 
 agony I could endure until I undertook this task !" 
 
 The shadows grew deeper, and there was a long interval of silence. 
 Mr. Boston stole out, leaving Annot. Toby, on velvet feet, brought 
 a candle into the hall, and then dropping into a tangled bundle 
 of legs and arms, fell asleep in the corner. Annot sat and mused 
 upon the incoherent ravings of the patient, endeavoring to find some 
 clue to his meaning, when he suddenly whispered — 
 
 " It is not her real name, you know. It is Annot Dale ! And 
 Miles is not my real name either. Everything is changed. Oh ! 
 why did not a bullet find me as I rode through that infernal storm ? 
 Me instead of him ? Better for Bonny Annie Laurie ; better for 
 Hyland, and far better for me ! She can never sing that again ! 
 And she would not sing it for me ! Certainly not !" 
 
 A blaze of light broke upon the girl's mind. She had found the 
 clue ! 
 
 As she sat there in the darkness, recalling the events of the past 
 few days, she remembered the scraps of conversation she had over- 
 heard between the young cavalry subalterns when they carried the 
 wounded stranger up-stairs. They spoke of some one who rode 
 unarmed at the head of the column as having a charmed life. She 
 thought at the time they were speaking of Mr. Boston, as she had 
 heard of his reckless exposure of himself on other occasions. She 
 now recognised Miles as the " Mad Britisher." 
 
 Then she recalled the short colloquy at the date of his arrival, 
 when Stanly requested her not to sing '• Annie Laurie." And she 
 remembered that the guest had asked for the song once and again 
 during the evening, with a certain polite persistence. When she 
 arose the next morning she had said, "I will sing 'Annie Laurie' 
 for Mr. Miles to-day." There had been a long and interesting con- 
 versation the night before between him and her father, in which she 
 occasionally took part, and she felt well acquainted with the new- 
 
ANNIE LAURIE. 97 
 
 comer, chiefly because he was a countrvinan, hut also, because, with 
 her quick perception, she had detected many traits of the man's 
 character, enlisting her symjiathy and awakeninjz; her admiration. 
 She was greatly disa|)pointed when Toby announced his departure 
 "to see <le scrimmage." She had no sympathy with "scrimmages," 
 and could not account for the man's desire to look upon the revolting 
 scenes of the battle-field. During the morning she had been stunned 
 by the incessant roar of heavy guns, and was constantly oppressed 
 with a vague dread of impending horrors. The arrival of the 
 marauders, the injury to her father, the rude grasp of the men as 
 they tore at her watch-chain, seemed like some horrible nightmare, 
 until Miles burst into the room, with glowing eyes, and cast himself 
 upon her captors. She saw tiie soldier who bestrode her father's 
 body raise his pistol and shoot her defender, only a yard or two 
 distant, and her quick eyes perceived that the accidental entangle- 
 ment of his spur saved his life ; for he was falling when the 
 soldier fired, and the bullet shattered a mirror on the opposite 
 side of the room. Then came oblivion, until General Smith stood 
 over her. 
 
 After this she could only recall disconnected ravings. Miles 
 eagerly assuring her that he had dared everything for "Bonny 
 Annie Laurie." lie had ridden by the side of some one for her 
 sake througii nameless perils. Who was it? 
 
 " Stanly !" 
 
 She remembered now that the officers spoke in whispers when 
 they spoke of Stanly. He was not among them. There had been 
 a burial service at the church. Mr. Boston had borrowed her Prayer- 
 book ! It was clear. Stanly was dead. And while she recalled 
 the gay countenance of the gallant young soldier at their last part- 
 ing, she covered her face with her hands and wept. 
 
 The tears were beneficent. Her mind worked more coherently 
 after the " good cry." 
 
 Now there were subsequent perplexities. Somehow, Mr. Miles 
 had confused her name with Annie Laurie's name. So when he 
 spoke in his delirium of Annie Laurie, he meant Annot Dale. In- 
 deed, he had said so. But why did he constantly refer to the song? 
 "NVhy did he assert so vehemently that some one — "she" — would 
 never sing it again ? 
 
 She heard the murmur of voices at the other end of the hall, as 
 her father and Mr. Boston conversed. She heard the regular breath- 
 ing of her patient, who had fallen into quiet slumber; and, under- 
 
 7 
 
98 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 lying all other sounds, and sustaining them as a rich bass upholds 
 the melody of the sojirano, she heard Toby's diapason, as he awoke 
 the echoes with his prodigious snore. 
 
 Ah ! Is this the mode of egress from the labyrinth ? 
 
 Stanly had requested her not to sing until his return. And he 
 would never return ! That explained the stranger's reiterated as- 
 surance. And he had inferred, or perhaps Captain Stanly had told 
 him 
 
 Told him Avhat ? 
 
 Only this : a week ago Stanly was at Dale's Manor, and had 
 startled her by saying, " Miss Dale, when this cruel war is over, I 
 am o^oins: to ask the dearest woman in the Avorld to be mv wife." 
 They were standing on the verandah together, and Stanly had been 
 very poetical. The dialogue was interrupted by her father's ap- 
 ])roach, and the captain had no opportunity for renewing it. At 
 parting he pressed her hand very warmly, and with an indefinite air 
 of proprietorship which she resented at the time. 
 
 So he had told all this to Mr. Miles, no doubt ; and j\Ir. ]\Iiles 
 recognised this proprietorship when she declined to sing Annie Lau- 
 rie ! And he had been with Stanly when he fell, and was charged 
 with a message to her, which he shrank from delivering because — 
 because 
 
 AVhy, he said, " I did not know how I loved her." Whom did 
 he mean ? 
 
 The warm blood mounted to her cheek and forehead as she medi- 
 tated. " Do not lay too much stress upon the mutterings of fever," 
 she thought. It Avas hardly possible that this gentleman could have 
 any serious admiration for her. The date of their first meeting was 
 too recent. She would dismiss the whole subject from her thoughts 
 until he became sane. 
 
 She stole out into the hall and caused Toby's bass to terminate in 
 a " shake." 
 
 " Go sit by Mr. ^liles, Toby," she whispered. " Don't go to sleep 
 until I send Amanda." 
 
 "No, misse," answered Toby. "I kind o' forgot myself for a 
 minute. You see I was flustered a' totin' de water. I run all de 
 way to de spring and back." 
 
 Toby did not explain that he was horribly frightened, seeing 
 armed robbers in every bush between the house and the spring. He 
 did not run, he flew. 
 
 Mr. Boston, half surgeon and half nurse, looked in upon Mr. 
 
ANNIE LAURIE. 90 
 
 Miles an hour later. The lever had departed, and he was sleeping 
 protoundly. Mr. Dale was doinu- well. 
 
 "Miss Dale," he said, "your fatiier aiul I have been arran<;inp: 
 for a departure. We are all uoiii<r to Charleston as soon as he eau 
 travel, whieh will he within the week. Mr. Miles will be up to- 
 morrow, 1 thinU, and probably ^Ir. Dale also. In order to ensure 
 success to our plan, you will please take due care of your own health, 
 and to do that you will please retire now. I am going to slee[) on 
 this lounge, and should Mr. Dale or Mr. Miles require attention, I 
 am a light sleei)er, and can watch over both. May I say good 
 night ?" 
 
 " You speak with so much authority," she answered, smiling, " and 
 you tell me such good news, that I will obey without a murmur. 
 How kind you have been to us, Mr. Boston !" 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! I am the gainer in all. In our own dear land we 
 shall know each other better. My home is in Devon." 
 
 "Do you mean to say fiither is going to England?" 
 
 " Yes. Before the forest-trees put on their gay attire we shall all 
 be in England ; that is," and he meditated a moment — " I must get 
 some sugar fii'st." 
 
 " Sugar !" 
 
 " Y"es. I am hungry for pure sugar. I have been on the planta- 
 tions in Louisiana, and watched the process from cane-cutting to 
 crystallization. It is good, but I cannot get it out. I think I must 
 go to Porto Rico." 
 
 Annot took her candle and went to her chamber, wondering if the 
 whimsical stranger was insane, or if he was merely making game of 
 her. There was an air of such direct sincerity about him that she 
 instantly dismissed the latter pro[)osition. 
 
 She had also dismissed the other Englishman from her thoughts 
 for the night, so she extinguished her candle, and drew her chair to 
 the open window. The night was delicious. No sound outside save 
 the whisper of the pines. No frightful guns; no tramp of armed 
 men, marching to death. England ! AVas it possible that she would 
 at last get beyond the reach of murderous strife? How could they 
 go? Ah ! Mr. Boston had douI)tless arranged that they should sail 
 in Mr. Miles 's ship. And so her thoughts went back to Mr. Miles 
 again. 
 
 Annot did not like fighters. If Stanly had come to her in civil- 
 ian's garb, deprecating war, and had courted her in gentle fashion, he 
 might have won her. But he came at first with his sabre clanking 
 
100 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 against his boot — ferocious. She was more easily attracted to the 
 blockade-runner, because he wore no military equipments, and seemed 
 a man of peace. But he had delil)erately gone to the battle, merely 
 to gratify a blood-thirsty spirit. They were all alike. Could there 
 be any circumstances that would justify men in inflicting mortal 
 injury upon their fellows? 
 
 Then that awful minute after her father was shot came into view, 
 and she saw again the whirling figures in the drawing-room, the two 
 robbers who held her in their rough grasp, and the impetuous assault 
 of the Englishman. Well, he was certainly excusable that time. It 
 did not seem at all probable that a mild expostulation would have 
 been appropriate there. 
 
 If they sailed in his ship, she would talk to him about it. And 
 just then she heard his voice, as his window was next hers. 
 
 " If Miss Dale is well enough," he was saying, " I should like to 
 see her just one minute. When I saw her last she was in the grasp 
 of those scoundrels." 
 
 " But she has retired, ray friend," replied Mr. Boston. 
 
 " Well, I must wait. You tell me she is entirely uninjured ?" 
 
 " Entirely. Her excellent appetite at supper emboldened me to 
 gratify my own. I had not eaten anything for twelve hours. I 
 think she had probably fasted twenty-four." 
 
 " The wretch !" said Annot. 
 
 '' If I could hear her sing " 
 
 There was a pause. A hundred thoughts gallopped through her 
 mind. 
 
 " Because," continued Miles, " if she would sing Annie Laurie 
 just once for me, I would be willing to do like that other fellow, 
 and ' lay me down and die.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Insurmotjntable Obstacles. 
 
 T was high noon when the invalids crept down-stairs the next day. 
 Mr. Dale had been wounded in the breast; the bullet, deflected 
 by unerring Providence, glancing at the articulation of a rib with 
 the sternum, had torn its way out near the spinal column. Mr. 
 
 I 
 
INSURMOUNTABLE OBSTACLES. 101 
 
 Miles had a scalp woiuul, not dissimilar from those inflicted at 
 Celtic fairs with skilfully-wielded shillalahs. Coma was the first re- 
 sult in both cases, and fever the second. The supercargo had been 
 slightlv delirious, hut at this bright noontide both were decidedly 
 convalescent. 
 
 Mr. Boston was in consultation with Toby all the morning. The 
 railroad was twenty miles distant, and the knotty problem to solve 
 related to the transfer of Mr. and ]\Iiss Dale, with needful luggage, 
 to the neare'^t station. The war had been driven back from the 
 neighbourhood for the nonce, but there would surely be a return 
 wave in the near future, and Charleston offered the most secure 
 refuge at ju-esent. 
 
 A neighbour of Mr. Dale's, whose lands adjoined Dale's Manor, 
 had long cast covetous eyes upon his possessions. This neighbour 
 had fifty bales of cotton at the railway station, unsold. He was 
 loyal, distrusted Confederate scrip, and was waiting for a " gold" pur- 
 chaser. After a prolonged consultation with the supercargo, Mr. 
 Dale sent for Mr. Brooks, and in the course of an hour titles were 
 passed. Mr. Brooks had a clean deed to " Dale's Manor and furni- 
 ture." Mr. Dale had an order for the delivery of the fifty bales of 
 cotton, and Mr. Miles purchased this for the "Nellie" lading for 
 ten thousand dollars, "deliverable alongside." The payment to be 
 made in gold or its equivalent in Charleston. 
 
 It is noteworthy that all parties to this triple arrangement were 
 entirely satisfied with their respective bargains. Two hundred dol- 
 lars per bale was a moderate price for the staple, as Mr. Miles, who 
 had recently canvassed the market, knew. Ten thousand dollars 
 for Dale's Manor was moderate, in the estimation of Mr. Brooks, and 
 was also a higlily satisfactory price to Mr. Dale, although he had 
 refused five hundred thousand dollars for the same property from 
 the same purchaser. It is true the larger offer was made in a cur- 
 rency that did not circulate freely beyond the limits of the Confed- 
 eracy. Mr. Brooks departed before dinner, with the understanding 
 that the house would be vacated during the week. For the domestic 
 animals, and such household supplies as might be left, Mr. Brooks 
 engaged to convey the entire party to the station and to prepay the 
 freight on the cotton. 
 
 They dined sumptuously. After dinner, the host and Mr. Bos- 
 ton went out under the pines with cigars alight. Annot and Mr. 
 Miles remained in the drawing-room. The shattered mirror was 
 still on the wall. 
 
102 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Did you know," said Annot, pointing to the glass, " that the 
 same bullet struck you first ?" 
 
 " Is it possible ?" said Miles. 
 
 " Yes," slie replied, with a shudder. " You were there by the 
 chair. The wretch fii-ed from the corner of the table, and I saw the 
 mirror crumble when you fell." 
 
 "How could you see all this?" asked he, looking admiringly at 
 her. " I only remember clawing at the rascal's sword as I fell. I 
 am not sure that I heard the shot." 
 
 " What did you think of doing?" said Annot. 
 
 " I intended to master his weapon and kill him, and then kill the 
 man who stood by your father," answered Miles, tranquilly. " I 
 thought I had finished the other with the pitcher." 
 
 " So did I. Oh ! how can men be so cruel ?" 
 
 " They had you in their grasp," said Miles, indignantly. " You !" 
 
 She was silenced. Some intonation in the other's voice stunned 
 her. If her gentle and pious thought could be translated into mas- 
 culine vernacular, it would probably run thus : " What a devil of a 
 man this is !" 
 
 " I have a message to deliver," said he, presently, speaking slowly 
 and deliberately. '^ It was entrusted to me under solemn circum- 
 stances." She made no reply, and there was another pause, while 
 he collected his thoughts. 
 
 " Do you know anything about the battle on Saturday ? Do you 
 know any of those who were killed ?" asked he, at length. 
 
 " I am not sure. I thought I heard the gentlemen mention one 
 name when they were taking father up-stairs." 
 
 " And that was " 
 
 " Captain Stanly." 
 
 He glanced furtively at her face. It was serious, but bore no 
 traces of very violent agitation. 
 
 "I was quite near him," he continued, "when he was — hurt. 
 And he gave me this." Here he produced the locket. " He told 
 me to give it to Annie Laurie, and to say that he had stolen it. 
 That is all. I thought he meant you. Did he?" 
 
 " It is mine," she answered, taking the locket with grave com- 
 posure, " or rather, it belongs to father. He has been very much 
 distressed, thinking the robbers had taken it." 
 
 She touched a spring and the case opened. Miles looked over 
 her shoulder. It was the picture of a lady, like Annot and yet not 
 Annot. His eyes saw a dozen discrepancies at the first glance. 
 
INSURMOUNTABLE OBSTACLES. 103 
 
 ""We have other pictures of my mother," said Annot; "but 
 father has always liked this the best. Jle calls it the C'liflou Pic- 
 ture. This building in the background is the Observatory on Clifton 
 Downs. It was taken twenty-five years ago," 
 
 He was watching her keenly all this time. It was about time for 
 her to burst into tears or faint. Jle had arranged all this in his 
 mind ; but she was totally oblivious. Not uj) to the exigencies of 
 the occasion. 
 
 " May 1 ask if Captain Stanly knew whose picture it was ?" he 
 said, dubiously. 
 
 " Probably not. It was on the table there, I remember now, 
 when he was here last," and here she blushed; "but he merely 
 glanced at it." She closed the case with a snap. 
 
 " It is very like you," s;iid Miles, '* and perhaps he thought it was 
 you ?" 
 
 '' Perhaps." 
 
 He arose and walked restlessly across the room and back again. 
 He had screwed up his courage to discliarge this awful obligation, 
 had steeled his heart to endure the sight of her speechless sorrow or 
 her hysterical outcry, and lo ! she was cold as marble ! 
 
 " Miss Dale," he said, taking a seat by her side again, " I am 
 presuming terribly; but may I ask you to listen to a bit of personal 
 history ?" 
 
 " Presuming !" 
 
 " Before I left England," he went on, " I asked a hidy to marry 
 me. She refused me. I have known her from my boyhood, and I 
 thought I loved her with unspeakable devotion. If she had accej)ted 
 me, I think it very probable that no other woman in the world would 
 have attracted me. Yet I know now that I never love<I her at all." 
 
 She looked at him, astonished. 
 
 "Bear with me," he continued, "and pardon the egotism. But I 
 must tell you. I cannot live another hour under the same roof with 
 you otherwise. 
 
 " I cannot tell how the feeling began. She was away at some 
 school on the Continent, and when she came home she was a woman. 
 The intimacy that became us as children was not becoming in ma- 
 tured people. I thought I must have her, and then I thought Ily — 
 I mean my only brother, wanted her also. After some years of 
 doubt, my brother went away — far away, to India, in fact — and I 
 was constantly humiliated by the conviction that lie went merely to 
 leave a clear field to me. At last there came a letter from him, in 
 
104 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 ■which he said in precise terms he had never seen the woman he 
 would marry. 
 
 " Look you ! This brother of mine is so constituted that a false- 
 hood would blister his tongue. He would cut off his hand rather 
 than write a lie. And when I read his letter, I knew he had never 
 been a rival. And then I went and told her very much as I am 
 now telling you. 
 
 "I am — that is — I have certain lands. in England, and this lady 
 is the probable heiress to other lands adjoining mine. She is an 
 heiress now, indeed, but not too rich to make my suit indecorous. I 
 thought I ought to marry, and I thought this lady was precisely the 
 woman made for me. 
 
 " And now comes my confession ! While my brother, whom I 
 love dearly, seemed to stand between us " 
 
 "Your elder brother?" said Annot, deeply interested. 
 
 " Xo ; I am the elder. Why do you ask that ?" 
 
 " I thought you had said — or I dreamed " And she put her 
 
 hand to her forehead, musing. " No matter. Excuse the interrup- 
 tion, and go on." 
 
 " When Hvland was gone " 
 
 "Hyland?'' 
 
 " Yes ; my brother. When he was out of the race, it seemed to 
 be more of a business for lawyers and settlements. Do you under- 
 stand me? I had not then discovered my lack of every sentiment 
 that should possess the man who seeks a wife. And therefore 
 when I was rejected, with great gentleness, by-the-bye, I was more 
 astounded than wounded." 
 
 " Yet you came to America on this dangerous expedition " 
 
 " I had already arranged for that before I spoke to her. What ! 
 you think this was the exploit of a desperate man, rendered reckless 
 by disappointed love? Ah, no! I did not know what love was 
 then. 
 
 " I did not know that I could be so involved in passion that life 
 is worthless — worse than worthless — unless it is spent in the society 
 of another. That a gentle girl could so master me in a few short 
 days that I am miserable out of her presence. I have learned all 
 this at Dale's Manor. 
 
 " Do not answer me, please. Although my words betoken mad- 
 ness — for I have only known you four days — I am not mad. And 
 I will not annoy you with any more professions. I discovered the 
 other night, when you refused to sing one song, which he had pro- 
 
INSURMOUNTABLE OBSTACLES. 105 
 
 hibiteil — and the next day, when lie sent the picture to you, with 
 his hist utterance — that a <^alhint gentleman had known you before 
 I cjime. Will you not believe nie when I say I would gladly have 
 died in his stead the other day for your sake? 
 
 " I have said all this to you because I could not help it. If I 
 had consulted proprieties, I should have waited until the shock of 
 this bereiivement " 
 
 "Pray spare nie these allusions," she said, resentfully; "there is 
 no need for such extensive condolence !" 
 
 He was stunned this time. 
 
 "You have been so candid," slie contiimed, while a rosy glow 
 overspread her face, " that I should relieve your mind of part of 
 its distress. Captain Stanly was nothing to me beyond a mere 
 acquaintance." 
 
 He was still speechless, but touched the locket in her hand. 
 
 " I did not sing Annie Laurie because — because he had some 
 foolish thoughts about me. At least, I fancied he had. And he 
 rode away looking sad, and perhaps I was oppressed with a presenti- 
 ment. He took this without my knowledge. I am like your 
 brother," and here she laughed with forced gayety, " in that I have 
 failed to find my destined partner." She moved to the piano, and 
 he followed her mechanicall}'. He was in a stupor. Without a 
 prelude she struck the keys and sang Annie Laurie. 
 
 She turned to him at the conclusion of the second stanza. He was 
 kneeling on a stool at her side. He held his hand out for hers, but 
 she busily turned over the leaves of the music-book, wondering if he 
 could hear her heart beating. 
 
 " Miss Dale," he said, in low tones, the more earnest because sub- 
 dued, " hear another word. Foitare Annie Laurie. You are all the 
 world to me ! And I beg you to regard me as an earnest suitor for 
 your hand. I am a gentleman of good name. In due time I will 
 satisfy your father, and meanwhile I will say no word of love to 
 you. The dread of losing you by foolish delay is my only excuse 
 for speaking now." 
 
 She turned again, a perplexed expression on her glowing counte- 
 nance. He had captured her hand by this time, kissed it, and 
 released it. 
 
 "Please get up," she said, moving away. She looked out upon 
 the lawn. Her father and the bearded Boston were enveloped in 
 fine blue smoke. Miles stood submissively behind her. If she 
 could only go to her room and have a good cry now ! 
 
106 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " I have said nothing to you about your brave effort to rescue me," 
 said she, as a tear or two slipped down on her dress. " But I appre- 
 ciate it. I am honoured by all you have said " 
 
 " Oh, Annot !" 
 
 " Don't interrupt me, please." The sound of her name and liis 
 blazing eyes frightened her. " You know, certainly, that this sud- 
 den fancy of yours will probably wear otf as you get stronger." 
 
 " Oh, Annot, I love you !" 
 
 "Yes; so you have said. But you have been wounded, and are 
 still feeble and cannot know your own mind. I will forget all you 
 have said " 
 
 " Oh, Annot! I have no mind where you do not reign. Feeble ! 
 I will undertake any task, encounter any danger, for one smile from 
 you. If you could only say one word — if you could tell me I might 
 hope to win your favour some years hence " 
 
 "There are serious obstacles, sir." She spoke witli grave dignity, 
 albeit glancing shyly at his eager face. " I may say insurmountable 
 obstacles." 
 
 " Tell me the worst of them. If you do not positively hate 
 me " 
 
 " Hate you !" He was kissing her hand again by this time. " Ah, 
 no ! How could I hate one who has been so kind ? But I am only 
 a poor country girl — oh, yes ; insurmountable " 
 
 " My queen ! my darling !" 
 
 " And you — nobody knows it excepting me — you are Lord 
 Rayneford !" 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 At Hawklev. 
 
 OXE hot morning the " Bengal" touched at Cape Town, and 
 Hvland learned that the "Lord Clive" had sailed a week 
 before. She had stopped only for coals and water and the mails. 
 
 " Xo shore leave, Mr. Jones," said the captain, as he stepped into 
 the yawl. " Ah, I forgot the beggar was deaf! Pass his slate, one 
 of you." And he scrawled down his order. " Will you come ashore, 
 Mr. liayneford ? AVe have four hours." 
 
 Hyland was watching the mate's countenance as he deciphered 
 the captain's hieroglyphics. 
 
AT IIAWKLEY. 107 
 
 "But I want to go ashore iny.st'lt"," nuittered Mr. Jones. 
 
 *' AVhen I return, then," answered the captain ; " tell him so, Mr. 
 RayiK'ford, jilease. Will you come?" 
 
 '"I think 1 will wait for Mr. Jones," answered Hyland ; "I want 
 to see the process of coaling." 
 
 A barge was alongside, ami the black diamonds were being trans- 
 ferred to the bowels of the " liengal," half a ton at a time. 
 
 *' Mr. Jones desires to visit the town," thought Hyland, "to get 
 a supply of rum for his private use. If I go with him, the old 
 rascal will find it difficult to smuggle it aboard." 
 
 Mr. Rayncford was restless in his habits. Once or twice he had 
 strayed on deck during the night when it was the mate's watch, and 
 he fancied that he detected the odour of rum about that excellent offi- 
 cer, as well as some thickness of speech. Latterly, these symptoms 
 had disappeared, because the mate's private stock was exhausted, 
 and the daily allowance was too moderate to make any sensible 
 im])ression on !Mr. Jones's seasoned carcase. 
 
 " Four bells !" said Mr. Jones, as the captain came aboard. "Mr. 
 Rayneford, let us go ashore under canvas. We will take this shore 
 boat and sail in. Here, blackie ! put up your sail. Half a crown 
 for your boat for an hour." 
 
 " You sail him yourself?" asked the negro. Hyland bawled the 
 question in the mate's ear. 
 
 " Certainly. Squat down amidshii)s. Drop aboard, sir. Push 
 off her bows, blackie ! ^Vway we go !" 
 
 Hyland sat astern, watching the mate's management of the little 
 vessel as it danced over the waves. One hand on the tiller, the other 
 holding the main sheet, ]\Ir. Jones seemed to guide the boat bv in- 
 stinct. The wind came in puffs, and each time that the sail filled 
 and the boat careened to leeward the sailor, with ready hand, put the 
 helm down and brought her head to wind. 
 
 " Do you see how easy it is?" said the mate ; "you could sail back 
 to Calcutta in this cockleshell if you only watched the wind. See ! 
 Here comes a strong puff! You can seethe ripple on the water. 
 Helms-a-lee ! And now give way again. Would you like to try 
 it? AVell. Take a good grip of the sheet. Now, keep the tiller 
 steady and watch for the puffs. Ah ! Well done, sir!" 
 
 Hyland soon learned the secret of steering, and brought the boat 
 alongside the quay in good fashion. Telling the negro to wait for 
 them, the two walked up the quay. 
 
 "Only two thin";s to remember in sailinj; these fore-and-aft 
 
108 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 boats," observed Mr. Jones : " first, don't get skeered ; second, don't 
 be a fool !" 
 
 Hyland looked at him enquiringly. 
 
 " I mean tliere is not the danger that a lubber thinks there is. 
 When she lays down, her head comes up to windward nat'rally, — so 
 long as the sea don't wash aboard. Water aboard plays the devil ! 
 Then the other thing is to meet the wind. When it comes with a 
 roar, draw in your sheet and put her head up. Put the wind's eye 
 out ! Let it whistle on both sides of your sail. A lubber will try 
 to scud away from it. A sailor will keep his face to it the harder 
 it blows." 
 
 Mr. Jones had privately decided to buy two quart bottles of rum. 
 There were two pockets in his pea-jacket that would accommodate 
 so much bulk, and the chances of smuggling that aboard were in 
 his favour. As his companion stuck to him he walked boldly into a 
 shop on the head of the quay, after they had traversed one or two 
 streets in the hot. town. 
 
 " Rum !" he said to the shopkeeper. " Two quarts." 
 
 "How much?" said the shopkeeper. 
 
 " My friend is deaf," said Hylancl, taking the slate. " Wait a 
 moment." 
 
 " If you will wait until we reach England," he wrote on the slate, 
 " I will give you five gallons of rum. The captain would not allow 
 you to take it aboard, if he knew it. And if I knew it and failed 
 to tell him, I should be guilty of fraud." 
 
 Mr. Jones read the sentence, and then wiped it oflf with the bit of 
 sponge attached to the slate. 
 
 "A tumblerful of rum !" growled Mr. Jones, laying a shilling on 
 the counter. "■ I s'pose you won't try any, Mr. Raynefbrd ?" 
 
 Hyland shook his head, and the mate emptied the tumbler into 
 his gullet. Five minutes later Hyland was steering back to the 
 " Bengal." He paid the half-crown to the boatman, and clambered 
 aboard the steamer, followed by the mate, who was silent and 
 grumpy. 
 
 " I was dubious about old Jones," whispered the captain, as the 
 mate walked forward. " He wanted some private grog, I know, but 
 I don't think he has brought any aboard." 
 
 " About a pint," said Hyland, " and that went down his throat." 
 
 " A pint !" said the captain, derisively. " That is no more to him 
 than a spoonful. Up anchor !" 
 
 That night, when the " Bengal" was riding over the long swell 
 
AT HAWK LEV. 109 
 
 of the open sea, Hyland lighted his cheroot and went on deck to 
 admire the constellation of the Sonthern Cross. Mr. Jones, still 
 moody, was pacini: the narrow walk between the hnlwark and the 
 cabin-hatch. llyian<l tonched his arm, drew him to the binnacle 
 light and took his slate. 
 
 "Yon are angrv about the rum," he wrote; "but you will not 
 remain angry if vou retiect a little. No l)etter seaman than yourself 
 is on this^hip. But all your seamanship is worthless if you get 
 
 too much grog." 
 
 Mr. Jones read, nodded his head, and rubbed out the writing. 
 
 "I could go to sleep in any storm," wrote Hyland, "if I knew 
 you were on deck and sober. But I could not sleep in a dead calm 
 if I knew you were in charge and — not sober." 
 
 Mr. Jones read, obliterated the record, and nodded again. 
 
 " But this was not all. If I had not prevailed upon you to re- 
 linquish your purchase it would have been confiscated. The first 
 word the captain said when we came aboard was a question. And I 
 was very glad that I could answer it." 
 
 Mr. Jones read, applied the sponge, and held out his horny 
 
 hand. , • i 
 
 " All right, Mr. Rayneford. I was scudding away from the wind, 
 and you faced it. I was a lubber, and you were able seaman." 
 
 When the " Bengal" passed Eddystone Light there was a fierce 
 storm raging, and the captain decided to run into harbour at Ply- 
 mouth. ^Hyland, watching the light-house as they swept by, catch- 
 ing blinks of light occasionally, was rejoicing at the prospect of 
 setting his foot on English soil. 
 
 " Dull work over there," observed Mr. Jones, " sitting out on a 
 bit of rock and keeping the light up." 
 
 Hvland no<lded. Mr. Jones was loquacious. 
 
 " i have a son in that business," he continued. " He is light-house 
 keeper at Linton Sands. Better nor Eddystone though! Going 
 ashore at Plvmouth? Well, I shall be at Milford in a week, I 
 suppose. I shall come to an anchor there. I can see Tom once a 
 week, or oftener, for that matter. I'll rig out a sloop for my own 
 sailing, and I can go to Linton Sands when I like. Thomas Jones, 
 at the Harp Inn, Milford." 
 
 Hvland wrote the address on his tablets. 
 
 " Mr. Jones remembers my promise of five gallons," thought 
 Hyland, "and I must not forget it." 
 
 When he stepped on board the tug, far in the night, Zeba fol- 
 
110 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 lowed, taking Hyland's portmanteau from one of the sailors. The 
 Indian's own wardrobe was in a knapsack, strapped to his back 
 military fashion. 
 
 "Farewell, captain!" said Mr. Rayneford, as the tug cast off. 
 "Please send my luggage to Charing Cross Hotel. If the storm, 
 abates you will be in the Thames to-morrow, will you not?" 
 
 " Aye ! aye ! storm or no storm. I only want a few hours of 
 daylight. Good luck to you, Mr. Rayneford !" 
 
 There was some mairnetic influence streaming; from the earth and 
 infusing new vigour into the soul of the young Englishman when 
 he leaped ashore on that blustering coast. He stamped upon the 
 ground exultant, while Zeba shivered behind him. Everything was 
 nautical about the streets bordering the harbour. Hyland found a 
 cab, after traversing one or two long streets, and he and the Indian 
 were soon in the warm waiting-room at the railway station, hovering 
 over the blazing grate. 
 
 " Train for Exeter, Taunton, and Bristol !" said an official, putting 
 his head in at the door; " no intermediate stations !" 
 
 " Taunton !" said Hyland. " This is the ticket for us. Come, 
 Zeba! In two hours you shall have a bedroom with the tempera- 
 ture of Calcutta." 
 
 A five-gallon demijohn, boxed, addressed " ^fr. Thomas Jones, 
 Harp Inn, Milford, AVales. To be left. Freight paid," Mas the 
 first result of Mr. Rayneford's visit to Taunton. No other obliga- 
 tions detaining him, he spent the better part of the succeeding day 
 in travelling across country to Hawkley. He had telegraphed from 
 Taunton, addressing Nancy Hicks, care of Lord Rayneford, announ- 
 cing his arrival, and the housekeeper, arrayed in her best gown, 
 welcomed him at dusk. Master Hyland had been her special charge 
 from babyhood, and he had nothing to do, after satisfying the de- 
 mands of hunger, but listen to her account of the mysterious disap- 
 pearance of my lord. The old woman Avas a miracle of discretion, 
 and this w^as positively the first opportunity that had been presented 
 to pour her story into an ear that was at once sympathising and 
 discreet. 
 
 "He bade me good-bye, Master Hyland," so ran her story, "and 
 he told me to heed his last instructions. Everything to be kept as 
 usual. He would be absent six months. The safest thing to tell 
 enquiring friends was just the truth, and that was that I did not 
 know where he was going. jSIr. Plimpton came first, and he 
 brouo-ht a strange — g-entleman with him. He called him ' Dancer.' 
 
AT If A WKL/CV. Ill 
 
 lie is an ugly little man with red eyes. They asked nie no end of 
 questions between them, but I had only one answer. I was not 
 friirhteiRHl about Master Miles. I did not call him Master Miles to 
 them until they asked me some impudent (juestions about how uuich 
 wine mv lord usually drank at dinner. I ean't bear that Mr. 
 Plimjjton. Kxeuse me, Master Ilyland, I know he is your cousin, 
 but that is not your fault. \\'ell, they did not get any satisfaction 
 here, so they went to Mr. Brentam. AVhy, they asked me what 
 clothes my lord took away with liim ! And, would you believe it? 
 they stopped on their way back from Mr. Brentam's to ask if my 
 lord took his evening dress with him ! You know, M:\ster Hyland, 
 I always pack your trunks when you leave home, and I always take 
 a list of your things. So I just gave Mr. Plimpton the list of things 
 in my lord's trunk. That little red-eyed ferret wished to take the 
 list away with him, but I refused, so he asked for paper and copied 
 it. I like his impudence! But Mr. Plimpton said it was all 
 right." 
 
 She paused in her narration to watch the Hindoo. There were 
 several portraits on the walls of the library, where the trio sat. 
 Hyland sought this room after dinner, because it was the customary 
 smoking-place at Hawkley. Zeba, candle in hand, was going the 
 rounds, gravely studying the various portraits. He paused before 
 one at length, and after intent scrutiny of the handsome face on the 
 canvas, turned to Hyland. 
 
 "Picture of sahib's brotlier?" he asked. 
 
 " No ; it is like him, though. There is no picture of my brother." 
 
 Zeba replaced the candle and resumed his seat. 
 
 " If you have that list, ^Irs. Hicks," said Hyland, as he threw 
 away the fragment of his cheroot, " I should like to see it too." 
 
 " Certainlv, Master Hyland. Excuse me a minute, and I'll 
 fetch it." 
 
 While she was gone, Hyland pointed out the portraits to the 
 Indian. 
 
 "Those are all my ancestors, Zeba. The portrait you selected is 
 my father. This, my mother. My brother is like both. He has 
 the eyes of the lady, but otherwise resembles my father." 
 
 "Sahii) has eyes of his father, and all the rest like lady." 
 
 " Perhaps. I think you have hit the mark exactly. But we have 
 another picture of both father and mother together. Ah, here is 
 the list ! Mrs. Hicks, can you find the photograph in the morocco 
 case ?" 
 
112 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Mrs. Hicks pointed to the list in his hand. He read as follows : 
 
 " In my lord's satchel : 
 
 " One box cigars. 
 
 " One small dressing-case." 
 
 " So long as Miles had his smoke, and his shaving appliances, he 
 was equipped for a journey,'' observed Hyland. "But I see he was 
 more elaborately furnished in his trunk." 
 
 There was a long list of clothing, with some peculiar memoranda 
 which Mrs. Hicks added for her own guidance. Hyland read the 
 list attentively, with some vague idea of Siberian weather on his 
 mind. And he found sundry articles of winter apparel enumerated. 
 The catalogue concluded with — 
 
 " Three boxes cigars. 
 
 " One writing-desk. 
 
 "The Clifton picture, in morocco case." 
 
 " I cannot show you the picture I spoke of, Zeba," said Hyland, 
 returning the list to the housekeeper. "To-morrow I will call on 
 Mr. Brentam, and then we will go to London." 
 
 " Miss Carey went to London this morning," said Mrs. Hicks, 
 "and Mr. Brentam is going to-morrow." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Search Begun. 
 
 MRS. HICKS looked out from her chamber window the next 
 morning, and admired the beauties of Hawkley Park by sun- 
 rise. She saw Lord Rayneford's dog-cart, driven by Hyland, dis- 
 appearing at the turn in the avenue. He was taking time by the 
 forelock and seeking Mr. Brentam. On the lawn she beheld the 
 Hindoo, kneeling on the grass, his face towards the sun, and 
 evidently engaged in his private devotions. 
 
 " Pious, anyway !" she thought, as Zeba bowed his head twice, 
 until his turban touched the ground ; " what in the world will 
 Master Hyland do with this one-armed blackamoor !" 
 
 While she watched him, Zeba arose and drew his tulwar, flour- 
 ished it around his head, cut upward, downward, crosswise, tossed it 
 whirling in the air, caught it by the hilt as it fell, cut right and left, 
 cast it upward again, causing it to describe a glittering arc, and leap- 
 
THE SEARCH BEGUN. 113 
 
 ing forward caught it again, and, holding it at arm's lengtli, pointeil 
 it motionless at the orb of day. Taking a cord from his pocket, he 
 8U.s|KMide(l the weapon from the bough of a tree, where it slowly 
 gyrate<.l as he marched around it. 
 
 The housekeeper was thoroughly mystified, and withal fascinated. 
 There was something portentous in the aspect of the grim Hindoo. 
 ''One eye like a tire-coal," she thought, while he circled more and 
 more slowly round. Presently the sword was still, and the Indian 
 knelt again and carefully sighted along the blade. Apparently 
 satisfied, he then unfastened tlie cord, slipped the tulwar into the 
 scabbard, and paced soberly towards the house. 
 
 In his attendance upon llyland, the quick-witted native had 
 picked up a fund of practical knowledge. Hyland frequently 
 found him more prompt and efficient in his surveys than his edu- 
 cated European assistants. He seemed to divine the use of the 
 engineer's scientific implements by an instinct; and on several 
 occasions he had astonishetl llayneford by producing the right thing 
 at the right time before it was named. 
 
 AA'heu Hyland returned from his morning call upon Mr. Brentam, 
 he found the Indian squatted on the grass, under the tree upon 
 which he had suspended the tulwar at sunrise. He had a small 
 compass, a part of his surveyor's outfit, and a map of England, 
 which he had t^iken from the library wall. He was absorbed. 
 
 " What are you studying, Zeba?" said Hyland, relinquishing the 
 reins to the groom, as he descended from his perch. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" replied the Hindoo. " I am looking for the 
 north." 
 
 "Indeed!" said Hyland. "Well, the second window there is 
 about due north." 
 
 Zeba pointed to the compass. 
 
 " What! you want an accurate survey?" 
 
 " See, sahib !" said the Indian, thrusting a cane in the sod, and 
 then walking rapidly to a lilac-bush, twenty or thirty yards distant, 
 stuck up a second cane near the root. " Will sahib survey?" 
 
 " Northwest and by west." 
 
 Zeba spread the map out on tlie grass. 
 
 " Will sahib draw the line on the map?" said the Hindoo. 
 "Here, Taunton. Here, Hawkley?" 
 
 "No. A little more north. Here is Hawkley." And he made a 
 spot with his }>encil to indicate the locality. 
 
 " Now, sahib, draw the line northwest and by west." 
 
 8 
 
114 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Hyland laid a scale on the map and drew his pencil Hgiitly across 
 it. 
 
 " Your line runs all in the water, Zeba," observed Hyland ; " out 
 Bristol Channel, touches Milford, crosses St. George's Channel, and 
 strikes Ireland somewhere about Cork, I fancy." Zeba listenetl 
 with profound attention. 
 
 " All water ! No English land ?" said the Hindoo. 
 
 " None. Except the twenty miles between Hawklcy and the 
 channel. Then open water — here is a little spot of an island — then 
 all water to Ireland. Come into the library. I have a larger map 
 there, with Hawkley on it." 
 
 The large chart was the record or result of certain geological sur- 
 veys of England and Wales, and the names of many insignificant 
 localities were given that could not l>e found on any ordinary geo- 
 graphical maps. Hyland's more careful examination of this revealed 
 a few unimportant villages under the northwest and by west line. 
 
 " Here are the villages, Zeba," he said ; " Handon, Skarr, Lakly, 
 and Dimmot. Then the channel. All water to Milford Haven. 
 Then this last little spot, what is it ? Linton Sands. Then all sea 
 again to the Irish coast. What the deuce are you hunting ?" 
 
 "Don't know, sahib," replied the Hindoo, gravely, while his 
 single eye glowed with smothered fire. " Tulwar point so ! lu 
 seven days can try again." 
 
 "Suppose you try again now?" said Hyland. 
 
 "Can't ask tulwar twice !" replied the Indian. "Handon, Skarr, 
 Lakly, Dimmot. All the rest jungle?" 
 
 " No. We have very little jungle in England. These are farm 
 lands and gentlemen's parks. The villages are small. We came 
 through Skarr yesterday. Where we changed horses." 
 
 " Any forts, barracks, bungaloAVS, prisons ?" 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. All jjeaceful country. And, I may add, 
 the sweetest country in the world. Suppose you explore it, Zeba?" 
 
 " Yes, sahib." 
 
 " Well, I go to London this afternoon. You can amuse yourself 
 in that way until I return. Mrs. Hicks will take care of you. You 
 shall have a horse " 
 
 "Don't Avant horse. Walk," said Zeba. "Sahib write names. 
 Handon, Skarr, Lakly, Dimmot, water, Linton Sands." 
 
 Hyland tore a leaf from his {x>cketbook and wrote the names. 
 
 " Money ?" he said, as he handed the slip to the Indian. 
 
 " Plenty money. Thanks !" 
 
THE SEARCH BEGUN. 115 
 
 After breakfast the Iliiuloo disappeared, llylaud made a record 
 in liis diary. 
 
 " Tlie Indian," he wrote, ''lias another attack of superstition. He 
 has been practising the bUick art witii his tulwar again, and has gone 
 in obedience to its directions on the hunt of Miles. There is some- 
 thing sublime in his unquestioning reliance upon his mummery. It 
 is unspeakably absurd in this age of the worlil, and would have been 
 absurd two thousand years ago. Yet this man of keen intellect 
 follows a delusion that could not deceive an English child, with 
 unflinching faith, and his failure will not shake his faith. And the 
 most curious thing to note is its effect upon me. I cannot shake 
 off the influence of Zcba's manner. I have not seen his later in- 
 cantations, but A[rs. Hicks described his methods to me, which were 
 quite similar to his jiracticc at sea. 
 
 " He comes of the Hindoo race, of course. What have been the 
 characteristics of this race, so far as history reveals them ? Is it also 
 my race ? Is Zeba Turanian or Aryan ? Comes he from Ham or 
 Japhet? 
 
 " What is the difference? Cultivated Turanians have had a habit 
 of deifying insensate matter. They worshipped heroes. And I 
 have read somewhere that they invested their weapons with some 
 occult intelligence. 
 
 " Pooh ! Why should I pore over these musty figments ! It has 
 not been long since Christian duellists sought the church's blessing 
 upon their swords ! 
 
 " Suppose I state the case here for future reference. 
 
 " I go to London to-day. I will get what information I can at 
 the club, and from Plimpton. Then I start to find Miles. I shall 
 hunt all over England first. I expect to employ no agency, except 
 common sense and vigilance. I know the country. I know the 
 probabilities. I can read the papers every day, and can utilize any 
 hint that may point to Miles. 
 
 " Zeba has started, with a list of villages and — his tulwar. He 
 knows literally nothing. A stranger in a strange land. Yet he 
 starts with calm confidence, and I start with many misgivings and 
 the heartache ! 
 
 " Conclusion : The more a man certainly knows, the more does he 
 distrust his knowledge. The more he learns of invariable law, the 
 more does he look for variations. I shall meet Professor Schmiser 
 at the club to-night, and if I have opportunity I will ask his 
 opinion." 
 
116 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 While Mr. Rayneford was gliding over the iron road that after- 
 noon, his face turned Londonward, Zeba was marching across hills 
 and valleys in precisely the opposite direction. He had laid aside 
 his turban and his red coat, assuming ordinary English attire, ex- 
 cepting the tulwar, buckled close to his side, the end of the scabbard 
 protruding below his coat. The few people he met in traversing 
 lanes and by-ways — for he kept a tolerably direct course — generally 
 glanced at him Avith slumberous curiosity as he strode by. Children, 
 playing at cottage-doors, usually shrank into shelter as he approached. 
 Once or twice he was accosted by parish officials, and required to 
 produce his credentials. On these occasions he promptly presented 
 the document he had received in Calcutta, setting forth the main 
 facts in his history. " He had been loyal and valiant in the army, a 
 sergeant in a native regiment, had been maimed in the discharge of 
 his duty, and was honourably dismissed with a pension." His soli- 
 tary eye blazed with sleepless vigilance, scrutinizing every face he 
 encountered. His manner was always dignified and courteous, but 
 there was an air of relentless determination about him that had its 
 effect upon all he met. Once, a rural policeman, after reading his 
 discharge, asked why he wore his sword. Zeba pointed his slender 
 finger at the official document, and answered, " Officer !" and the 
 guardian of the peace was silenced. So he kept his pilgrimage un- 
 molested, sleeping at country inns at night, and living frugally upon 
 one meal a day of animal food, and content with a crust and a mug 
 of beer at morning and night. 
 
 When Hyland left England he was closely shaven, and he had 
 never begun the cultivation of hirsute adornments until he went to 
 the cinchona plantations. Persuaded by his new friend, the American 
 doctor, he had there abandoned his razor, and returned to his native 
 land bearded like the pard. It was so effectual a disguise, that Mr. 
 Plimpton did not recognise him. Hyland had left his card at that 
 gentleman's residence, with a pencilled note, saying he would dine 
 at the club. Here he found Professor Schmiser, an old, spectacled 
 savant, with whom Hyland was a favourite at college, and as the pro- 
 fessor lived mainly upon the fumes of tobacco, they got a quiet corner 
 in the smoking-room, Avhere Rayneford recounted the story of Zeba 
 and his superstition. He had already told him all he knew of Miles. 
 
 " About twenty-five ?" said the professor. " Not'ing to do ? Com- 
 ing to London twice a month, and den pack to his pooks? Sound 
 mental force? Engleesh? Mine friend, your brother is after a 
 
 womans 
 
 f" 
 
THE SEARCH BEGUN. H7 
 
 "A woman!'' siiitl llylaiul, horriliod. 
 
 " Yah ! Ter EiJ<j;let'sh is ter tuyfel ! Mebbe your brother run 
 avay /Vo/u a woniaiis. Mi'l)l)o a wonians j^ourt him, urul he didn't 
 Mant to be gourted, i)ut wanted some otiicr. lie read nmeh pooks, 
 und shmoke only leetle. Dere must pe a woraans !" 
 
 " My dear j)rorossor," said Ilyhuid, "you are certainly mistaken. 
 I have a letter from Miles, in which he expressly says the contrary." 
 
 "Ah, dat makes no dill'erence !" responded the professor; " ven 
 he runs avay, he don't know ter womans drives. He tell ter troot, 
 but he has a hallucination. Xo matter. I'll dink some more und 
 write you word." 
 
 To Plyland's great astonishment the professor did not exterminate 
 Zeba and his superstition with a word, as he had expected. 
 
 "We think a great deal of our learning," said Mr. Schmiser; 
 " but do you know these Indians were scholars when we were sav- 
 ages? Their civilization antedates ours by centuries. And there 
 are men among the Brahmins to-day who know more about magnet- 
 ism, I mean magnetic psychology, than we do. I cannot under- 
 stand, from your description, where science ends and where mummery 
 begins, but I can easily believe there is a scientific foundation for all 
 that seems to be folly to you. And the employment of the steel 
 blade is especially significant." 
 
 He was talking in his native tongue now, and his words flowed 
 more rapidly and smoothly. 
 
 "Science habitually frowns upon all inscrutable phenomena. It 
 is not the province of science to analyse the occult. Her efforts 
 tend to expose a fraud or a delusion, but never to formulate non- 
 })rovaljle systems. Therefore her deliverances upon the topic of 
 Animal Magnetism have been very cautious or very rude. I can 
 illustrate my thought thus : two men assert, separately, that they 
 have seen a ghost. The scientific world meets the assertion with 
 disdain, and rejects this double testimony uj)on scientific hypotheses, 
 well established. First, there is no proof that can be subjected to 
 analytical tests that the vision was not a mere delusion. Second, it 
 is a maxim in science that disemlwdied spirits cannot be visible to 
 the physical organism. Third, there is no evidence, satisfactory to 
 science, that man hivs any existence outside of his material organism. 
 It does not assert the opposite doctrine, but it declines to discuss the 
 proposition. Indeed, it is asserted that there is no entity that is not 
 material, and I cannot controvert that point. At least, not yet. It 
 is asserted that thought is only phosphorus. I do not know. 
 
118 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " But I do know that in any civilized jurisprudence the testimony 
 of these two eye-witnesses would be more weighty than all the books 
 of all the philosophers, always provided that they testified of facts 
 of ordinary occurrence. 
 
 " If I had to deal with your Hindoo, I should follow him so long 
 as he would lead. I should distinguish between a mere mountebank 
 and a sincere believer in his art; and I should investigate each step 
 in his progress." 
 
 " I am entirely bewildered," replied Hyland. " You seem to be 
 reviving all the abominable humbug of the Middle Ages !" 
 
 " Engleesh !" quoth the professor. '' Ah, well ! Here is Mr. 
 Plimpton looking for you." 
 
 Hyland and Mr. Plimpton Avithdrew to another corner, leaving 
 the savant to his pipe and his meditations. 
 
 " There are two Englishmen," thought the professor, " who think 
 wisdom will die with them. You could not knock a philosophical 
 idea into their heads with a sledge-hammer !" 
 
 " There goes an obstinate young cub !" thought Mr. Plimpton, 
 when Hyland left him. "He rejects the aid of Dancer with 
 haughty persistence. He will find his brother by w'hat he calls 
 common-sense methods. Meantime, I intend to keep Dancer on the 
 track." 
 
 " There are tAvo maniacs," said Hyland, as his cab rolled on to 
 Charing Cross Hotel ; " one offering to find Miles by setting a thief- 
 catcher on his track ; the other advocating magnetism, necromancy, 
 humbug ! Plimpton, a remarkably sensible man on most subjects, 
 but entirely insane in his admiration of his detective, because he 
 once unravelled a complicated fraud. Schmiser, a square-headed 
 thinker, who put me through Kant only two years ago, now swal- 
 lowed up in mesmerism ! And here am I, the one sane man of the 
 trio, about to search England over without the slightest clue. I will 
 go to Bath to-morrow, consult Colonel Mordaunt, and then start out 
 on my search. And I will explore every nook of this island." 
 
A NEW ENTER miSE. 119 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 A New Enterprise. 
 
 COLONEL MORDAUNT and his clau<rhter had left Bath a 
 week before Mr. Rayiieford arrived. Mr. Daltniaii was with 
 them. The latter was about to start on a cruise in his yacht, now 
 at ]\Iilford. The colonel would be at Clifton in a few days. The 
 arrival of the " Bengal" had been announced, and he had probably 
 gone to London, as he expected Mr. Rayneford in that vessel, and 
 was doubtless watching the marine intelligence in the papers. 
 
 Thus said Cabbil, Colonel Mordaunt's valet. He knew Hyland, 
 and was sure the colonel would expect him to remain at his house in 
 Bath until he returned. They had frequently spoken of Mr. Rayne- 
 ford on the voyage. The "Lord Clive" had made a sj)lendid run 
 from the Cape. The ladies were quite well. Miss Juliet had not 
 beeu comfortable at sea, but was well now. The colonel was going 
 about the country with Dr. Leigh, and was improving. If Mr. 
 Rayneford would not stop, would he please leave his address? 
 Charing Cross Hotel, London. Thank'ee, sir. 
 
 Then Plyland prowled over the old city. He was forming his 
 plans and did not want advice or assistance. He was just going to 
 hunt for Miles. He was not much disturbed in mind, but there was 
 constiint occupation before him, and he would use his reason, and 
 ])erhaps he could accomplish as much as Zeba and the detective 
 together. 
 
 Presently he found himself in the country. He had strolled 
 along ])aying slight attention to the direction he took, constructing 
 hypotheses and then demolishing them. 
 '"Will you ride, sir?" 
 
 The speaker was driving a nondescript vehicle on four wheels. 
 The seat had a gig-top, now thrown back and resting upon the 
 hinder part of the wagon, which was a sort of box covered in. An 
 inscription on the panels read, "Timothy Holly, Photographer. 
 Stereoscopic Views." The driver was a ruddy-faced man with a 
 plci^sant smile. A plump pony was drawing the vehicle at a very 
 moderate trot, the reins being twisted round the whip standing in 
 its socket. While Hyland hesitated the driver halted. 
 
 " Ho, Tommy ! Stoj) ! The gentleman is going to ride a bit. 
 There is the step, sir, just before the wheel. Going far, sir? I am 
 very glad to get your company ! I was almost asleep. Bath is a 
 
120 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 fine place to sleep ! Been there four days. Had splendid weather, 
 and got a lot of new views. Can't say much in favour of Bath as a 
 market for views. Have only sold three dozen in the four days ! 
 Go on, Tommy !" 
 
 " This is very comfortable," said Hyland, as the pony resumed 
 his trot ; " I did not know that I was fatigued. How far are we 
 from Bath ?" 
 
 " Four miles. You walked out ? Ah, well ! I think it is far 
 pleasanter to ride. Tommy don't bother, you see. He turns out 
 of the road as the law directs when he meets a trap. If you go to 
 sleep, he just jogs on till he comes to some place where oats are kept. 
 Then he stops, does Tommy." 
 
 " I suppose you inform him at starting what road you will take?" 
 said Hyland, amused. 
 
 "Sometimes, sir. Roads are all alike to us. If we come across 
 any good views, we just stop and take 'em. Which way are you 
 bound, sir ?" 
 
 "Really, I have not decided. I am just looking about — for 
 views." 
 
 " Can you photograph ?" said the driver. 
 
 " Yes. I have done a little in tliat way. But I am not very 
 skilful." 
 
 " All depends on the focus," said the other, confidentially ; " of 
 course you must have your chemicals all right. I learned on cards, 
 in Bristol, yonder. But now I only take views. Don't object to 
 figgers in the views, if they're still. I thought of turning oif here, 
 to take Carsel Dane. It is a bit of a ruin with some splendid 
 trees in the background. Would you mind ?" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Hyland. " I have heard of Castle Dane, 
 and should like to see it. Also to take some lessons from you in 
 your art. That is — if you do not object." 
 
 " Delighted, I'm sure, sir," said the artist, cheerfully ; " Hi ! 
 Tommy! Turn to the right. Right! That's it! You see, sir. 
 Tommy knows English. That is the wisest little lump of a horse 
 I ever saw. He can pretty near talk. When I get out, if there is 
 a bit of grass on the roadside, I just loosen his check-rein and leave 
 him. I am fond of Tommy, and I don't like the thought of losing 
 him." 
 
 He spoke as if the calamity was impending, letting oif a cheerful 
 sigh. 
 
 " Lose him ?" said Hyland. 
 
.1 NEW ENTERPRISE. 121 
 
 "Yes, sir. I tliink I must sell out. Forty pound offered for the 
 "whole rig. There is Carsel Dane. You can see the tower through 
 the trees. Good day for views. Sun not too bright. No breeze 
 to spoak of. I know a gent as will take a do/en views of Car- 
 sel Dane. In Bristol, lie wants some views of Clifton Downs, 
 too. How much do you know of the art, sir? Armachure, I 
 suppose'.*'' 
 
 " Yes. No. Not exactly. I have been doing some surveying, 
 and had to take some photographs to illustrate my reports. But I 
 am quite clumsy." 
 
 " Easy as winkin', sir," said Mr. Holly. " It wouldn't do to say 
 that either, to everybody. My customers think Timothy Holly can 
 bang the world on views ! But it is all in focus, and good chemicals. 
 Stop, Tommy ! I must open the gate." And he slid down from 
 his perch, opene<l a gate on the roadside, and held it while the pony 
 walked soberly into the lane. Refastening the gate, he resumed his 
 seat, and Tommy resumed his jog-trot. 
 
 " It is a fine old park," observed Mr. Holly; " but a good bit run 
 down. It has been let for a long time, twenty years or more. But 
 the owner is back now, and it will be put in order, I fancy. Belongs 
 to Colonel !Mordaunt. Old house over there on the right. I know 
 every inch of this ground ! Used to be a grand place, but there 
 were some family troubles — let me see: it was in 1840. Nigh 
 twenty-five years ago. My father was steward of this estate, and I 
 was born close by the park gates. Not where we came in. It is on 
 the other road. If you like, I can tell you the story." 
 
 " No family secrets, I suppose ?" said Hyland, doubtfully. 
 
 " Bless you, no ! That is, not exactly secrets. Of course my 
 father knew a lot of things, being steward, that everybody did not 
 know. But there was no bloody murders or anything. The Mor- 
 daunts were always a stuck-up " 
 
 "I know Colonel Mordaunt," said Hyland, interrupting him, 
 " and he is my friend." 
 
 "And a first-class, A one, gent!" continued the artist. "I meant 
 no offence. The ]Mordaunts were always proud and rather haughty, 
 as they had the right to be. vVnd the family trouble began " 
 
 " Ah, here is the ruin !" Siiid Hyland ; " Tommy has stopped 
 without orders, I suppose he knows when he reaches the proper 
 locality for views?" 
 
 " He knows when he gets to good grass," said the other. " I'll 
 let him pick a bit here in the lane. There is a gap in the hedge 
 
122 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 just beyond. I'll get out the camera. Here is the tripod, under 
 the seat." 
 
 " Give me that and the camera," said Hyland. " I'll take them 
 in while you prepare the plate." 
 
 "All right, sir. I'll follow you in a minute. There, Tommy, 
 nip away." 
 
 In the course of the next hour Hyland had taken several views 
 of Castle Dane, moving the tripod from place to place, and exhibit- 
 ing so much judgment in his selection of sides and angles, that Mr. 
 Holly was profuse in his praises. 
 
 " You don't need any lessons from me, sir," said he, as he ex- 
 amined the last view ; " leastways not in this part of the work. 
 You have got the best positions every time, and the negatives are 
 perfect. You know how to manage the bath " 
 
 "Yes, I think I do. If you will allow me, I will finish these, 
 and then I will buy a dozen or two." 
 
 " Wish you would buy the lot !" said the artist, earnestly. " My 
 stars ! what a lucky day it would be for me and Nanny if you would." 
 
 " Nanny ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. That is ray Avife. When I left her this morning, she 
 said, ' Tim, if you meet a customer for your whole rig, don't higgle 
 over a pound or two,' said Nanny, * because,' said she, ' a week is 
 worth more than a five-pun' note,' says Nanny." 
 
 " I do not understand why you wish to sell," said Hyland, cau- 
 tiously, " and I do not see what I could do with your rig if I bought 
 it. And if I coveted this exact rig, I could not consent to buy it 
 from you when you are pressed to sell. I could not speculate upon 
 your necessities." 
 
 " You are going to smoke, sir," replied Mr. Holly. " Sit down 
 here in the shade. Thank you, sir ! This is a queer cigar, cut off 
 at both ends. Which end must I light? Either? Well, that's 
 jolly ! Cheroot you call it. Prime !" 
 
 " Now, sir, I'll tell you my necessities, as you call 'em. Nanny 
 is an orphan, and she has a twin brother. They were never sepa- 
 rated until we were married, and then John had a good offer in 
 Australia. So he sailed a year ago, and he keejxs writing, does 
 John, to Nan about the climate and the kangaroos, and telling her 
 to bring me out there, until the poor girl is pining to go ! I sup- 
 pose tM'in children are fonder of each other than common children. 
 
 " So I have been looking about for a chance to sell. A chap in 
 Glo'ster offered me forty pound last week, and Nan thinks I ought 
 
A A'EW ENTERPRISE. 123 
 
 to take it. But Tommy is worth nji^h forty pound himself. Not a 
 blemish, sir ! If I could sell out, Nan and I would be on the water 
 in a week. A regular liner sails next Saturday. Bless you, Nan 
 keeps a watch on the Australian lines! John says I can make 
 money taking views, or I can be foreman on a sheep- farm at good 
 waives, and have my own horse. That is the whole story of my 
 necessities. 
 
 " I am sure I can't say why you should buy me out ! Exce{)t 
 that vou are a gentleman, and ])crhaps have plenty of money. You 
 couldn't smoke this kind of double-enders if you hadn't! And 
 then, if you want to roam about the country, promiscuous, why, 
 here vou are! You can take views anywhere you like. I have a 
 license " 
 
 " But I cannot buy your license." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Holly, meditating. " But," he continued, bright- 
 ening up, " I can tell you what you can do. You can take pictures 
 under my license. Timothy Holly will employ you — say for a year. 
 No gentleman could stick longer than that. And you shall have for 
 wages all you can make on the pictures." 
 
 '' What is the value of your ' rig,' my friend ?" said Hyland. 
 
 "Sixty pound. And I'll take anything over forty. You can 
 have the run of the British Isles. And Tommy will take to you 
 just like a dog. My stars ! If I was a single gentleman, with 
 enough money to buy bread and cheese, and such an eye for views as 
 you have, sir- 
 
 " When do you desire to sell ?" said Hyland, quietly. He had 
 made up his mind. 
 
 "This minute," replied Mr. Timothy Holly, starting up and 
 stamping on the sod. Hyland took out his pocket-book and counted 
 twelve five-pound notes into the hand of his interlocutor. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Holly," said Hyland, "you have writing materials 
 there in your box. jNIake out the necessary papers. Endorse on 
 vour license authority for me to show if I am questioned." 
 
 "What name, sir, please?" said Mr. Holly, after some laborious 
 scratching with his pen. The poor fellow was half crazed with joy. 
 
 "Name? Certainly. Jack Robinson. You had better write it 
 John." 
 
 " Never found it so hard to write in my life," said Mr. Holly, 
 signing his name with a flourish. "There you are, sir, Mr. John 
 Robinson, with my compliments, and wishing you the best of luck. 
 My stars! How can I tell Nan! She will hardly believe me. 
 
124 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Sixty pound ! Full value, and no heart-burnings. I don't know 
 what game you are up to, sir, but I do know you are a true-grit 
 English gentleman. If you are just idling about the country to kill 
 time, you could not have a pleasauter lay than this. When it rains 
 you can put up the gig top and unroll the apron, and there you are 
 — water-proof. The box is water-tight too." 
 
 " A^^ell," said Mr. John Robinson, when the other paused to take 
 breath, " I am sole proprietor of this extensive establishment. My 
 friend, I had no thought of buying five minutes ago." 
 
 "Very likely, sir. I've seen many a gent go off sudden-like 
 before to-day. Nan will be sorry to part with Tommy, but Tommy 
 could not take her to her brother." 
 
 " Perhaps he will take me to mine," said Hyland, thoughtfully. 
 "Who knows?" 
 
 " Tommy is used to a good rubbing down, sir," said Mr. Holly, 
 " and of course you can't do that. But wherever you put up you 
 can give the 'ostler a sixpence, and tell him to spread it all over 
 Tommy in an extra rub. And when you are alone on the road you 
 can talk to Tommy — anything you like — and he'll never tell your 
 secrets. Bless you! he understands all you say, though. I suppose 
 you'll hardly believe it, sir, but when I came out of the stable this 
 morning I just said, ' Tommy, we are going to Bristol to-day.' And 
 I never touched the reins ! He just turned off to the left and trotted 
 up this road." 
 
 " I will cultivate Tommy's friendship," said Mr. Robinson, '* and 
 wmII adhere to your method of driving. Unfortunately, I cannot 
 announce my intentions so decidedly, as I do not know where I am 
 going." 
 
 " Leave it to Tommy, then," replied the other, confidently ; " he 
 will take you right. There's always good luck in trusting him. 
 Did he not bring me to you this blessed day? Go on to Bristol, 
 sir. There is a lot of views there. And to Clifton. No end of 
 views there. My stars ! Isn't it odd now, sir, that you should 
 have taken these views of Carsel Dane, right here on the Mordaunt 
 lands?" 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Hyland, bewildered. 
 
 " Why, these views, and what we were saying awhile ago about 
 the Mordaunts. My stars ! I must tell you that story." And he 
 sat down again, M'hile Hyland lighted a fresh cheroot. 
 
 "What story?" 
 
 " About the Mordaunts and their Clifton picture." 
 
"^A 
 
 THE MORD AUNTS. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The Mordaunts. 
 
 HEX I ^vns a mere kid, sir," began Mr. Holly, "I lived 
 over there, about a mile beyond the fir plantation at the 
 park gates. There "vvere three Monlannts in the big house: two 
 brothers and a sister. They were all stately kind of people, but as 
 kind to the jioor as eould be. INIy father was steward, and knew all 
 about tlie estate, just as well as the lawyers. The estate is named 
 Carsletlane, after this old ruin, I suppose, and was left by will to the 
 *two brothers or tlie survivor of them,' with a charge upon the 
 estate equal to one-third of its revenues in favour of Miss Mor- 
 daunt. My father knew all this, because he had to distribute the 
 revenues under the will. 
 
 "The elder brother, Mr. Horace Mordaunt, was a very quiet 
 gentleman, and lived among his books. The other, Mr. Dane Mor- 
 daunt, was a liery young fellow, always getting into scrapes, but 
 always coming out of them heads up. I think they would have 
 quarrelled, being so different, only they both doted on their sister. 
 They had their own friends, of course; ^Ir. Horace taking to book- 
 men, who could spend a week with him in the big library, and Mr. 
 Dane taking to army-officers, or men who knew horses and dogs, 
 and could follow him across country without stopping for fences. 
 Miss Mordaunt was gracious to both sets of visitors, showing no 
 preferences, but giving each brother's friends share and share alike 
 of her attentions, as mistress of the house. I can just remember 
 her. I know I used to think she was exactly like the angels, only 
 wanting wings. I remember Mr. Dane, too, who used to come 
 tearing down the drive on» his iron-grey horse every day, worrying 
 the old porter's life out, as he had to get the gates open in time, lest 
 Mr. Dane should leap his horse over them ! I was most afraid 
 of Mr. Horace though, for all he was so quiet. Somehow I got 
 the idea that he would be a terrible man if his temper could be 
 roused. 
 
 " There were two visitors who kept about even with both brothers. 
 I mean they did not take to one and leave the other. The oldest 
 was a rich manufacturer, who was full of knowledge about machinery 
 and chemicals, and mines, and everything else. His name wius Mr. 
 Brentam. The other was just a plain country gentleman, who knew 
 everything there was in books, and also everything about politics all 
 
126 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 over the world. His name was Mr. Dale. They were both from 
 Somerset, neighbors and friends. Mr. Dale knew next to nothing 
 about business matters. He had a moderate estate, spent his money 
 freely, but not recklessly, and always had the same cheerful smile 
 for everybody. Mr. Brentam knew everything about money mat- 
 ters, and though he was wonderfully liberal in providing for the 
 comfort of his tenants and workmen, he got richer every year, 
 
 " It soon got to be known that these Somerset gentlemen were 
 rivals. They both wanted Miss Mordaunt. That much was certain. 
 But nobody could say wdiich one pleased the lady best, or indeed 
 whether she would take either of them. It also got to be known 
 that Mr. Horace favoured Mr. Dale, while Mr. Dane was anxious to 
 give his sister to the manufacturer. He was at least ten years older 
 than the other, was a widower, was not very handsome or stylish, 
 but he had the tin. 
 
 "There was an artist at Clifton, name of Morrow, who was get- 
 ting celebrated. He was the first man in these parts to take stereo- 
 scopic views. Twenty years ago they were not so common as they 
 are now, but were a real curiosity. People used to ride miles on 
 miles just to visit Morrow's gallery, and my father was lucky enough 
 to get me apprenticed to Mr. Morrow, having a good word from 
 Mr. Horace, and also from ]\Iiss Mordaunt. And it was in my first 
 year there, only a kid, when Mr. Dale and Miss Mordaunt came one 
 day together to have pictures taken. They did not want paper, they 
 wanted the old-fashioned metal. In lockets, too. Mr. Morrow was 
 very polite and attentive, because these locket pictures were a pound 
 a piece, besides the locket. When they had selected the cases, they 
 decided to have the pictures taken out on the Downs. Miss Mor- 
 daunt objected at first, but ISIr. Dale said ' he must have the Ob- 
 servatory in the background,' and at last the lady consented. It 
 was quite early in the day and very few people were out. I carried 
 the tripod, and the two likenesses were soon taken. Mr. Dale gave 
 me half a crown. He was remarkably jolly. The lady was very 
 quiet, but she gave me half a crown too. The tripod was heavy, 
 and I was only a kid. 
 
 " I saw the pictures the next day, after they were fitted in the 
 lockets. Each one was full length, with the Observatory in the 
 background. Miss Mordaunt had taken off her hat, after many 
 denials, and her picture was just prime. Mr. Dale's was good-look- 
 ing enough, too. But old Morrow said he hated to part with the 
 lady's, as it was the loveliest he had ever taken. It sounds curious 
 
THE MOR DAUNTS. 127 
 
 now, but he did not know in them days that he couUl have made as 
 manv co|)ie.s as lie pleased from the original picture. 
 
 "Mr. Dale enmo the next day for the lockets. Mr. Brentam was 
 with him. And I remember "that Mr. Dale borrowed ten pound 
 from him to pay for them, and that Mr. lirentam wrote the amount 
 down on a scrap of paper, and <]:ot ]Mr. Dale to sign it. He slipped 
 the ladv's picture in his pocket, and showed only his own to Mr. 
 Brentam. Kid as I was, I understood. 
 
 " I was at home on the next Sunday, and my ftither asked me a 
 lot of questions about the likenesses, but did not tell me then what 
 had happened. He never mentioned family matters to anybody 
 while he was steward of Carsledane. But he told me the story 
 afterwards, when everybody was gone and Carsledane let to strangers, 
 and my father was living in Bristol and done with the estate. 
 
 " There had been a devil of a quarrel between the brothers. Mr. 
 Dale had asked Horace for his sister's hand. :Mr. Brentam had 
 asked Mr. Dane the same day. The brothers had asked Miss Mor- 
 daunt to decide between the gentlemen, and she said she had already 
 accepted Mr. Dale. 
 
 " Then Mr. Dane flew into no end of a rage, and asked her if 
 they had really exchanged lockets, and said the ' poor beggar had 
 borrowed the money from Brentam to pay for the pictures.' Miss 
 Mordaunt said nothing, but she enclosed ten pound in a little note 
 to Mr, Brentam that same evening, and said in the note that she 
 would be pleased to cancel any other obligations of ^Ir, Dale's that 
 he might hold. You see the gentlemen had both quit Carsle- 
 dane, and were over there at Bristol, waiting to hear from the 
 Mordaunts. 
 
 " That little note made matters worse. Mr. Brentam was insulted,- 
 and withdrew his suit. Mr. Dane bought a commission in a regi- 
 ment that sailed for India in a week, and went off in a rage. Mr. 
 Horace stayed long enough to see his sister married, and then he 
 bought a commission also, and got exchanged into an Indian regi- 
 ment. Mr. and Mrs. Dale stayed here a few months, and then sailed 
 for America, and nobody has ever heard from them since. Mr. Dale 
 was so much in debt that Dale's >[anor had to be sold, and :Mr. 
 Brentam bought it. It was dreadfully mixed up, but there was 
 some story about Mr. Brentam calling on Mr. Dale just before the 
 sale, and offering to give him Dale's Manor free for that Clifton 
 picture. All this was because Mrs. Dale had stung him to the quick 
 by sending the ten-pound note. 
 
128 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " You see how it is, sir. Mr. Brentani was rolling in riches, and 
 he thought he could take any lady he might pick out. He had been 
 very friendly with Mr. Dale, and had lent him lots of money, but 
 he always had little slips of paper with acknowledgments signed by 
 Mr. Dale. Mr. Dale said he had paid these sums all back, but was 
 careless or ignorant, and had not taken back his acknowledgments. 
 Mr. Brentam only pointed to the " 
 
 '' If you will excuse me, Mr. Holly," said INIr. Jack Robinson, 
 " I will venture to interrupt your story. I know Colonel Horace 
 Mordaunt, and I am ashamed of myself for listening so long to 
 these revelations of his private history. I also know Mr. Brentam, 
 and I do not believe one word against his honour. I do not know 
 Mr. Dale, but I have no doubt he was unjust and cruel to suggest 
 such infamous " 
 
 " Whew !" said Mr. Holly, with a long whistle, " I beg your par- 
 don, sir, but I was only telling the story as I heard it, partly from 
 my father, when I was only a kid. I did not intend to say as much 
 as I did, but the story of the picture came to my mind because I 
 was thinking of old Morrow's saying." 
 
 "Did it relate to the Mordaunts?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! It was only a queer notion. You see, sir. Mor- 
 row was an old bachelor, and he hated women like snakes, though 
 he was polite as a dancing-master to his customers. But he says to 
 me, ' Tim,' says Morrow, 'you notice, whenever a cove has a woman 
 took with the Observatory for a background,' says Morrow, ' then 
 you notice, there'll be the devil to i)ay !'" 
 
 " Observatory for a background !" said Hyland, starting ; " what 
 did he mean ?" 
 
 " Why, he meant marriage, sir ! ' I've took more than a hun- 
 dred,' says old Morrow, ' and every one of 'em was a regular gone 
 case ! Never knew a man to have the picture of a woman with the 
 Observatory in the background,' says Morrow, * that failed to be a 
 gone goose, sooner or later !' " 
 
 " It's very odd," said Hyland, " but I happen to know of a 
 picture of a gentleman and lady, taken less than thirty years ago, 
 with that very Observatory " 
 
 "Married, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 "That's just it!" ejaculated Mr. Holly; "old Morrow was right, 
 you see. No doubt he took that very picture ! And when he took 
 Miss Annot " 
 
THE MO RD AUNTS. 129 
 
 "Miss An not?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. That was Miss Mordaunt's name. ' Tim,' says he, 
 'mark my words! Here's another gone goose!' meaning Mr. Dale, 
 * lie's as good as married !' says Morrow. So if you tiike any 
 pictures on Clifton Downs, sir, be very careful about the Observa- 
 tory ! Ha ! ha ! It won't hurt you, sir, unless you keep the picture 
 yourself. It never hurt old Morrow, for he died single." 
 
 " Now, by this light !" said Mr. Robinson, " I'll put this to the 
 proof! I will take the first woman I find between me and the Ob- 
 servatory, if she will be still long enough ! And I will put her in 
 a locket and wear her if she should be ugly as Hecate ! If she can 
 make me marry her, I will " 
 
 "Will what, sir?" 
 
 " I will sell my books, will go to India, turn fakir, and sit in the 
 sun until I am broiled. Philosophy will have become a delusion. 
 Common sense will be midsummer madness, and human speech 
 will be no wiser than the chattering of monkeys." 
 
 " All right, sir!" said Mr. Holly, cheerfully. " It is all foolish- 
 ness, of course. But when I first set up, I used to prowl about on 
 the Downs taking groups and the like. One morning a lot of girls 
 got together and bargained for a picture. Ten shillings for a single 
 head, with five duplicates. Half a crown each for groups of six, 
 with five duplicates. They got me down to two shillings apiece, 
 and then took their positions. Would you believe it, sir! when I 
 squinted through the camera one girl was in the field, a little apart, 
 and I just took her first. Then I changed the negative and took 
 the group. After I had finished up the pictures and got my twelve 
 shillings, I took the first })late out and made a separate picture, and 
 there was the Observatory in the background !" 
 
 " Well ?" 
 
 "You see I had moved the tripod M-hen I took the group, and the 
 Observatory was two hundred yards off. So an inch to the right or 
 left threw it out of the field." ' 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Robinson, impatiently, "what of the single 
 picture ?" 
 
 Mr. Holly took out his ]X)cket-lx)ok, unwrapped a carte, en- 
 veloped in tissue-paper, and handed it to the other. 
 
 "A fine, honest, English face," said Mr. Robinson. "So you 
 kept the carte?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Mr. Holly, replacing the picture, "and I mean 
 to keep it while I live. That is my Nan, sir." 
 
 9 
 
130 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "What!" said Hyland, starting to liis feet. "Do you mean to 
 tell me that you married that girl ?" 
 
 "Indeed I do," answered Holly, with a complacent grin. "Of 
 course, the Observatory had nothing to do with it ; but I just kept 
 that picture in my ])ocket wherever I went. I never saw any one 
 of the girls before that morning. I never saw any one of them 
 since, except Nan, and I stumbled on her, promiscuous-like, down 
 there in Bath. I had just bought Tommy, and had put him in 
 the stable, and was on my way to my lodgings, about sundown. 
 I saw a half-drunken fellow annoying a girl, who was trying to get 
 away from him, and I persuaded him to leave her alone, and then 
 I took her home. She ^vas apprenticed to Madame Nash, the 
 milliner. I was took up the next morning for assault — you see I 
 had to tap the brute on the nose to get the girl away — and Madame 
 Nash got me out of limbo. It was six months after that when I 
 showed Nan that picture." 
 
 " Mr. Holly," said Hyland, " I will amend my resolution in one 
 respect. If the first woman should happen to be particularly hid- 
 eous, I will allow her to escape. And now, shall I drive you back 
 to Bath ?" 
 
 " Which way are you going, sir ?" said Mr. Holly. 
 
 " I am going to Clifton. I have a curiosity to see that Observa- 
 tory." 
 
 "Well, sir," said Mr. Holly, "if you will drop me at Ganton, I 
 will take the train down. It is on your road, and I will get to Bath 
 sooner than Tommy would take me. Shall we start now? Ho! 
 Tommy ! You have a new master wow, old fellow, and I'll go bail 
 for him." 
 
 When Mr. Holly slid down at Ganton he shook hands with the 
 ncAv proprietor at parting. 
 
 " It has plagued me a little, sir," he said, with a film over his 
 cheerful eyes, "to think you maybe bought my kit because you 
 wished to help a fellow. No? Well, it was a great kindness, any- 
 way, and my Nan will pray for you every day of her life. I wrote 
 my brother-in-law's address on the back of that certificate, and if 
 you would just drop me a line out there, and say how you get along, 
 and how Tommy is, I w'ill be grateful. And when you go to Clifton, 
 if you don't want to stop at the big hotels, I can recommend jNIrs. 
 Noils. She is a widow, and has a spare room to let, just across the 
 high bridge. Tommy will take you straight to her gate." 
 
 " Many thanks, Mr. Holly," said Hyland. " Do not be concerned 
 
COURTING. 131 
 
 about Tommy. I will be his friend. I will go to Mrs. Noils's as 
 you sugj>;est." 
 
 *' Aiul, sir — there comes the train! I've only a minute Toft. 
 But when yoii do write — Timothy Holly, in care of John lirund, 
 Murrigattee, Adelaide — would you mind telling me what comes 
 of it ?" 
 
 "Comes of what?" 
 
 " Why — hi ! here's the train ! Good-bye, sir! the best of luck ! 
 I mean what comes of your Clifton picture ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Courting. 
 
 A "WEEK after the battle at Long INIeadow, Dale's Manor was 
 ■^-^ dejiopulated. There were some domestic animals left, in- 
 cluding a dozen venerable hens, but all the chickens that had cracked 
 their shells in the previous spring-time had become fries, broils, and 
 pies, and had nourished the fast recovering invalids. On the train 
 for Charleston M-ere Mr. and Miss Dale, Mr. Miles and Mr. Boston. 
 The latter had discovered Miles's devotion, and beguiled Mr. Dale 
 into the smoking-car, leaving Annot and Miles to their meditations. 
 There had been very little private conference between them since the 
 interview recorded in a previous chapter. The lady had been 
 constantly occupied making preparations for the journey, and all 
 that ]Miles had been able to get during the busy days was an occa- 
 sional interchange of glances; his full of adoration, and hers shy 
 and demure as possible. 
 
 " I have been trying to hope. Miss Dale," he said, as her father 
 left the car, "and have watched for one encouraging look from you. 
 I don't think I got it." 
 
 " You did not answer my last remark, Mr. — my lord." 
 
 "We were interrupted," he answered. "You say *my lord.' If 
 I might call you ' my lady,' I would be willing to reliiupiish all my 
 possessions for the privilege. Will you please let me be plain Miles 
 to you ?" 
 
 " You are Lord Rayneford," she said, " are you not?" 
 
 " My name is Miles." 
 
132 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Father told me that dreadful day, when you had gone to Long 
 Meadow, that you were one of the Raynefords of Hawkley. He 
 knCw you by a dozen proofs. He said you had a brother, who had 
 inherited the title probably, and you, being a younger son, had 
 changed your name when you undertook your present adventure. 
 He knew the late Lord Kayneford, and to-day he said he could see 
 a striking resemblance to him in you. When you told me the other 
 day that your brother was the younger, I knew you were the present 
 Lord Rayneford." 
 
 '* I am under a promise to remain Mr. Miles until I return to 
 England. I will not contradict you, however. Indeed, I should liave 
 told you all my history, because no promise could bind me to keep 
 a secret from you. When I made the compact, it was stipulated that 
 the woman I asked to be my wife should be informed of all I might 
 desire to tell her. We have known each other but a few days, and 
 yet, events have happened in this short acquaintance that make up 
 for longer intercourse. It seems to me that I know you more inti- 
 mately than I know any one else in the world, except Hyland. I 
 am sure I shall never love any woman but you. If you can say I 
 may continue loving you, I will not ask any more, until you know 
 me better." 
 
 She looked away from his glowing eyes, which were giving the 
 lie to his moderate speech all the time. The bright country swept 
 back as the train sped onward, and all the face of nature looked 
 more beautiful to her eyes than ever before. It was not so much the 
 consciousness of owning a devoted lover that added the bloom to 
 her cheek, as the growing consciousness that she was being owned by 
 him. She was not the least bit dazzled by his title. On the con- 
 trary, she was sorely disappointed when the truth flashed upon her 
 mind, three days ago. 
 
 "If you had only been plain Mr. Rayneford," she murmured, 
 turning to him, at last, " then I might have " 
 
 " What, Annot?" 
 
 " I would have promised never to marry any other, perhaps." 
 
 "And would that promise be made because you could love plain 
 Mr. Rayneford ?" 
 
 " I don't know. You had made me like you so well, that I could 
 not love any other. Never !" 
 
 " And you cannot like Lord Rayneford ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. But it does not seem proper — please don't look at 
 me that way — it does not seem proper for me to — to take you at dis- 
 
COURTING. 133 
 
 advantaiTC. You are awav tVom friciuls ami kiiulred, and the swift 
 rush of events you just referred to has carried you away from your 
 ordinarv j)rudeiK'e and sense of projiriety. You have fou<i;ht for 
 me. You cherished pity for nie, thinking I had my life desolated 
 by the death of Captain Stanly. You are so kind and unselfish 
 that vou suffered great ))ain in thinking of the terrible pain your 
 message from the dying man would inflict upon me. Please look 
 out the other window. I cannot talk wliile you glare at me." 
 
 " I camiot ! Do you remember what Toby said yesterday when 
 vou gave him tliat enormous chicken-pie, and bade him be careful 
 of his steps T 
 
 " No." 
 
 " He said, ' Miss Annie, my eyes done sot !' Please go on." 
 
 " Every person in the car can tell what you are saying " 
 
 " I am sjiying nothing. There are only two old ladies behind us, 
 and they are four seats distant. The persons in front of us cannot 
 see out of their back hair. I mtist look at you ! If I close my eyes, 
 I still see you. Even when I sleep, you are present in my dreams; 
 and when I waken, though surrounded by the blackness of dark- 
 ness, the same vision of loveliness illuminates my chamber. I hear 
 your voice in the wind or the rainfall, and if all is still around me, 
 I still hear you in the throbbings of my heart, where you live." 
 
 She listened, entranced. The warm blood spread over her pleasant 
 countenance while he spoke, and she glanced timidly at his honest 
 eyes, which were endorsing his words with emphasis. 
 
 " I am so ignorant of the forms of courtship," he continued, " that 
 I make no progress. I do not know what to say, except that you 
 are all my life. If I cannot win you, I know perfectly well that I 
 shall walk apart while my life is prolonged, trying to perform my 
 duty as becomes a man, but with no sunshine upon my path. If I 
 can win you, it seems to me that there are no impossibilities in my 
 future. If this eager desire to possess you is merely selfish, I mis- 
 take my own feelings. On the contrary, it seems to be the single 
 desire of my heart to make you liappy. I can imagine no self-denial 
 in this either, because I could know no happiness that failed to give 
 you pleasure. I could find no gratification in pursuits where your 
 sympathies were wanting." 
 
 She made no reply, but listened with downcast eyes. She could 
 not venture to meet his eyes now. She wondered if the music of 
 " Annie Laurie" seemed as sweet to him as his calm accents seemed 
 to her. 
 
134 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " I do not answer your remark about friends and kindred. I am 
 my own master, and need ask no one. But if I had to please others 
 by my choice, there is no woman in the workl who would rival you ! 
 My brother has been nearer to me than all the world besides until 
 now. And you have supplanted him. AVhen I tell you I love you 
 more than I love Hyland, I have said more than I ever said before. 
 But, Annot, this is not like other loves. I cannot think of you as 
 having any separate interests from mine. In spite of your cold- 
 ness " 
 
 She just shot one look at him. It struck him between the eyes 
 and went whirling through his brain like a rifle-ball. 
 
 " I was saying," he stammered, " that — that you could not appre- 
 ciate my feeling of identity — unless you loved me. And I could 
 not expect you to love me, at least not in the degree that is requisite, 
 until I learn to court you less clumsily. I have thought, indeed, if 
 I could marry you at once, to-day, that the remainder of my life 
 would only be one unceasing courtship. Because I long for such 
 a Avealth of love from you ! If I had known you a long time, 
 and if there were no shyness, and no feeling of strangeness sepa- 
 rating us, I should still see that nothing but an entire life of devotion 
 could earn from you the love I covet so hungrily." 
 
 It is highly probable that Annot would have remained silent if 
 the train had jumped the track and gone ploughing through the pine 
 forest. Her feeliners were not dissimilar from those of the man who 
 has taken too much champagne for the first time. There is a novel 
 exhilaration, with a faint suspicion of coming inebriety, and a vague 
 dread of impropriety — a vague distrust of one's tongue, inducing the 
 conclusion that, on the whole, silence is golden. But with this there 
 is a warm glow over the entire organism, mental and physical, that 
 breeds contentment. It is not easy to describe, but you probably 
 understand. 
 
 " I retort your suggestion," said Miles, " that I have mistaken 
 ordinary or even extraordinary sympathy for warmer emotions. 
 You, having a high-bred, generous nature, feel excessive gratitude 
 for such service as you say I have rendered. Therefore you are re- 
 luctant to appear ungracious, and so you listen with patient courtesy 
 to me." 
 
 Another shot from slightly humid eyes made his heart bound. 
 
 "Because," he continued, "there was really nothing in my acts 
 beyond those that the ordinary instincts of manhood would prompt. 
 I did no good. Probably I incensed the villains by my assault, and 
 
COURTING. 135 
 
 luaile tlicMii riuk'r in their treatment of you. I cannot plead anytliinj^ 
 tiiat 1 luive done. I can only say 1 love you, and ask you to love 
 me in requital." 
 
 " Listen !" she said, turning suddenly to him : '' I have not the 
 courage to assume the position you oiler me. I am not accomplished 
 enough for Lady Rayneford. I do not like fashionable life. 1 have 
 always belonged to my father, and cannot belong to another. All 
 my tiustes and habits are homely, and I could not bear to see you 
 ashamed of me ! I should die ! If you had been plain Mr. Rayne- 
 
 "• 1 listen," he said, as she paused. 
 
 " Even then I should have doubted. Because your brother would 
 have been Lord Rayneford, and you might have to apologise to him 
 for my lack of culture. I cannot be so deceitful as to profess indif- 
 ference to you, and I do not think these exciting experiences you 
 speak of have anything to do with my — my regard for you ; excoj)t 
 so far as they served to reveal yoiir nobleness of character. My 
 lord, I am sensible of the honour you offer me. I am proud of your 
 frieiidshij). If you had been only what you seemed, I — perhaps I 
 should have been proud of your love! That is," she added, hur- 
 riedly, "after a time." 
 
 " There are certain obstacles in the way," said Miles ; " I was so 
 unlucky as to be born two years before Ilyland, and the laws of 
 England compel me to take my rank. But you are the daughter of 
 Windham Dale of Dale's Manor. Do you know the Dales were 
 English gentry when the Raynefords obtained their title? Do you 
 know that the Mordaunts of Castle Dane, to whom your mother 
 belonged, were the proudest race in the south of England? Your 
 objection to my rank is idle, Annot. The title has been in my 
 family only two or thiee generations. Do you not know that every 
 motion of your hand, every intonation in your speech, every senti- 
 ment you utter bespeaks your gentle breeding? I don't think I 
 could be attracted by the loveliest woman that poets have ever 
 dreamed of if she were not a lady. I would freely venture you in 
 the company of the haughtiest women of England, who are the 
 haughtiest women in the world, and I should dread no compari- 
 son that might be instituted, leaving you to your native instincts. 
 If I were the proudest duke in England, I should feel honoured in 
 making you my duchess." 
 
 She had gone off in a trance again. No man had ever talked to 
 her in this fashion. It was not like the frivolous compliments, half 
 
136 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 jest and half earnest, that she had received from quondam admirers. 
 It was not like Stanly's courtsliip, which had been far more aggress- 
 ive than that of Miles, and would easily have become impassioned 
 if her cold exterior had not kept him in a state of perpetual snub. 
 But this man talked with courtly grace, in dead earnest all the time, 
 and yet refraining from vows and protestations, while he said such 
 astounding things to her. He put aside her most formidable objec- 
 tions with a few plain words in even tones. And the utter sin- 
 cerity of all his prettiest speeches was constantly apparent as he 
 battered down her feeble defences. 
 
 " You spoke of Hyland," said he, after a brief silence. " Shall 
 I tell you about Hyland ?" 
 
 " Yes," she whispered. She was oppressed by the conviction that 
 her voice was not to be trusted. 
 
 '* I am thankful that you did not know Hyland first !" said Miles, 
 fervently, " because you would never have listened to me. When I 
 was dismissed by Mr. Plimpton, my guardian, I found I had about 
 a thousand pounds a year. My estate had been encumbered so 
 seriously that only retrenchment and economy could save it, and 
 during my minority Mr. Plimpton had wisely managed my affairs. 
 Hyland inherited two thousand a year from my motiier, which came 
 to him two years after my majority. His first act was to apply to 
 Mr. Plimpton, who is our family solicitor, to transfer his inheritance 
 to me, to aid in freeing Hawkley from mortgages. His argument 
 was this : a foolish old grandfather had no right to tie up a fortune 
 for him that righfully belonged to Lord Rayneford. AVhen he 
 found that this would not be allowed, he went to India ' to better his 
 fortunes,' he said, but really to earn enough to free Hawkley for me 
 — for me ! The boy has no selfish desire or purpose in his organism. 
 Ah, if the woman I love so tenderly could only love me as tenderly 
 as Hyland does !" 
 
 " Belton Junction !" bawled the conductor. " Passengers for 
 Charleston change cars! Refreshments at the depot! Express 
 train down in forty minutes !" 
 
 She took his offered arm as thev moved down the aisle, though 
 she had not heard a word the conductor said, and as they came out 
 in the sunlight she dropped her veil over her face. They walked 
 silently along the platform, meeting her father and Mr. Boston, 
 bond-slaves to smoke. 
 
 " Go into the ladies' room, Annot," said Mr. Dale ; " we will come 
 for you when the train arrives. Come, Mr. Miles — smoke !" 
 
HARDY'S STORY. 137 
 
 " Thank you, no," replied Miles ; " I will watch over Miss Dale." 
 
 " Ah, but you cannot enter there," said Mr. Dale. " Don't you 
 sec the prohibition over the door? 'Gentlemen will please take the 
 other room.' Come, we have forty minutes to wait." 
 
 "This train will be off in two minutes," quoth Mr. ]5oston. " In 
 two more minutes the station will "be empty, as we are the only 
 passengers for Charleston. In two more minutes that dusky damsel, 
 kco]Mi)<; ouard over the ladies' room, will be asleep. Meantime, 
 my friend, you can converse with Miss Dale through the window. 
 Mr. Dale and I will take our unwholesome fumigations into the 
 ' other room.' Come on, Mr. Dale." 
 
 While the long, black trail of smoke from the departing train was 
 floating out of sight in the pine woods, the "dusky damsel," a fat 
 negress of fifty summers, waddled out with pitcher in hand. 
 
 " Gwine to de spring, sah," she said. " Back directly." 
 
 Miles peeped in the open door. Annot was standing at the oppo- 
 site window. She had thrown her veil back, and as he crept towards 
 her, she turned her burning face to him. He held out his hand, 
 half delirious, as he read her countenance ; and she offered no 
 resistance when he took hers and covered it with kisses. 
 
 " Oh, Annot !" he said, " I almost think you love me !" 
 
 " I am afraid I do," she murmured; "and I am afraid you love 
 your brother more than me !" 
 
 When the black damsel returned, she nearly turned white with 
 horror at the sight of a great man not only in the ladies' apartment, 
 but actually kissing the lady with astounding industry. As Miles 
 sneaked out, guilty and abashed, he dropped a coin into the hand 
 of the indignant negress. 
 
 " Golly !" she muttered. "Dis beats de old scratch heself !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Hardy's Story. 
 
 ^ I ^HE train stopped twenty miles or more west of Charleston, and 
 -'- Mr. Boston, ever restless, stepped out upon the platform. The 
 little village had been transformed into a military station, and a sen- 
 try was marching up and down in front of the ticket-office. As Mr. 
 Boston passed him, the soldier stopped and presented arms. 
 
138 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Mighty glad to see you, sir !" said the soldier. " Hardy is down 
 Avith the fever, and he has been asking for you every time he come to." 
 
 ''Hardy?" replied the other — "where is he?" 
 
 " In hospital, sir. There behind the baggage-wagons." 
 
 " But I have resigned, my friend," said Mr. Boston, irresolutely; 
 " besides, I should miss the train." 
 
 " All aboard !" shouted the conductor. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the sentry, " if you go to Hardy, I reckon you 
 will have to give up this train. He is pooty bad, and I s'pose it's no 
 use, anyhow." 
 
 "Mr. Dale," said Boston, "please hand my portmanteau out of 
 the window. It is on the seat beside you. Ah ! thank you ! I 
 will be in Charleston as soon as may be. Good-bye !" 
 
 " Where shall I find you ?" said Mr. Dale, as the train moved 
 away. 
 
 " At the Mills House. Au rcvoir .'" 
 
 The hospital was a Methodist meeting-house. The long benches 
 had been utilized by turning them face to face and covering the 
 double seats with straw mattresses. There were a dozen soldiers in 
 the building in various stages of convalescence, nearly all of them 
 suffering from gunshot wounds. Plardy was in a corner, remote 
 from the rest, and Mr. Boston noticed the gleam of satisfaction that 
 spread over his face as he approached him. 
 
 " Powerful glad to see you !" said the sick man, with a feeble voice. 
 " I told the boys to keep their eyes skun, and they mought see you. 
 All up with me, Mr. Boston !" 
 
 " I hope not, Hardy," replied his visitor, cheerfidly. " What is the 
 matter ?" 
 
 " Fever ! Not a scratch on me. Been in ten battles, and not a 
 doffon'd scratch. Don't like dving here, like a sick chicken ! But 
 I knowed my time was up when Jim Stanly got his billet ! You 
 see, me and Jim was raised together. My father was overseer on his 
 father's plantation." 
 
 " Fever is not necessarily fatal, Hardy," said IVIr. Boston, regard- 
 ing the soldier attentively. " What does the doctor say ?" 
 
 "He don't say anything. He just feels my pulse, and goes on to 
 the other boys. They've all been hurted. Got no k'neen." 
 
 "No what?" 
 
 " K'neen. Fever stuff. I reckon a bully dose of that would 
 bring me through." 
 
 " I will see the doctor about you." 
 
HARDY'S STORY. 139 
 
 "No use, sir! I'm a gone 'coon !" replied the soldier, ho|)elessly. 
 " But I wanted to see you — I thought maybe you wouldn't mind 
 seeing the old woman ' 
 
 *'Do you mean your mother?" said Mr. Boston. 
 
 " No. My wife. She lives in Raleigh. You can go there any 
 day from Charleston." 
 
 " I will '--o if need be. You must give me the exact address." 
 
 " You won't know Polly in any kind o' dress, for that matter," 
 said Hardv. " She lives with her folks. Ask at the Yarboro' 
 House. That's the hotel. You can tell Polly I fit my best, and 
 got caught out with fever at last." 
 
 " Hardy, I don't believe you are seriously ill,"^siiid his visitor. 
 " You seem to be charged with last messages, thougii ; so fire away ! 
 I have had forty last messages entrusted to me that the senders 
 corrected when they recovered." 
 
 " I wanted to tell you about them Yanks/' said Hardy, after a 
 little pause. " I reckon I'd die easier." 
 
 "What Yanks?" 
 
 " Them three devils we gobbled up at old man Dale's." 
 
 " The robbers ?" 
 
 "Exactly," said Hardy, excitedly. "Please set a little closer. 
 You see, them fellows weren't regular prisoners. There was a lot 
 of prisoners that the cavaltry took off with them. But the general 
 told me and Sam Goby to take them three to Haytown and deliver 
 them up to the jail thar. So we started on our tramp through the 
 woods. 
 
 "Sam Goby was Stanly's brother-in-law. He used to be well 
 off, but he was the devil on whiskey. I reckon he drunk her to 
 death. He joined the army, of course, and he mought have been an 
 officer, but he could never pass a whiskey jug. So he was always a 
 hi^h private. He was in the guard-house twenty times, but Stanly 
 always begged him off. 
 
 " it was nigh sundown when we started from old man Dale's. 
 Haytown is fifteen mile, good. So we had to camp out one night. 
 We had tied the three Yanks together, and made them march ahead 
 of us, and we did not have much chaince to talk till camp-time. 
 We knew all alx)ut Haytown. Sam had been in the jail, and knew 
 that them Yanks could break out easy the next night, and we didn't 
 like the idea of their prowling around the country. You see thar 
 are no men about thar but old men and niggers. We thought it 
 was a shame to waste them thieves when we had 'em all secure. 
 
140 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " While you were up-stairs at old man Dale's the officers were 
 out on the front porch, and Sam was with them. You see they 
 were oif duty like, and he knew the most of 'em at home. Thar 
 were just twelve of 'em, counting Sam. The general was up-stairs. 
 Them twelve formed themselves into a jury, and sot on the three 
 robbers. And as they had all the facts right before their eyes, they 
 found all three guilty in about three minutes. We have a law in 
 the army that says any soger that ill treats a woman mu:st die, and 
 if the general had been a mile or two off them three murderers 
 Mould have been hung in half an hour. Sam told me all this that 
 night, when we were smoking our corncob pipes. After they had 
 sot on the case, Captain Green drew up a paper, and they all signed 
 it, Sam Goby and all. 
 
 " The paper said these three men had been captured in the act of 
 robbing a house. They had shot an old man, who had no arms. 
 They had ill treated a lady, tearing off her watch and ear-rings. 
 They had also shot a young man, but he was fighting them, and 
 thev did not count that. And the verdict was unanimous to hang: 
 all three. They were not prisoners of war, but were captured loaded 
 with the plunder taken from a defenceless house. And the paper 
 charged Sam Goby to see the sentence executed. Before we started, 
 Captain Green called Sam and me to his bridle, and whispered his 
 parting orders. * Men,' says he, ' if there is any chaince for them 
 scoundrels to git clear, see that you lose them in the woods.' And 
 his face was stern as death. 
 
 " ' Now, Bill,' says Sam, ' thar's nobody in Haytown to do this 
 business. That jail wouldn't hold a good-sized rooster, if he wanted 
 to scratch himself out. The orders is clear. We must lose these 
 devils to-night.' 
 
 " I did not feel quite clear about that. I was quite willing to 
 shoot all three when we had 'em at old man Dale's, because my 
 blood was up. So to gain time I proposed to examine the no-ac- 
 count sucker who s\vore he hadn't shot anybody in the house. Sara 
 agreed, and we strolled over to his tree. You see we had tied each 
 one to a different tree, so that they could not contrive any deviltry 
 without talking loud enough for us to hear. 
 
 "'Say, Yank,' says I, 'you said you had not shot anybody. How 
 came one chamber of your pistol empty ?' 
 
 " ' I shot that on the hill,' says he. 
 
 " ' What did you shoot at?' says I. 
 
 " ' I shot a fellow that came loping up to ray gun,' says he. 
 
HARDY'S STORY. 141 
 
 " ' What was he riding?' says I. 
 
 "*A big roan horee,' says l)e; 'and I tumbled liini out of tlie 
 saddle.' 
 
 " That was Jim Stanly. Nobody else had a roan horse. 
 
 " We went back to our log and sot there, smoking. 1 was think- 
 ing of Jim when he was a boy. Sam was thinking of Jim's sister, 
 I reckon. 
 
 " When our j)ipes Mere out, Sam asked me if it was all right. I 
 said *yes.' Then he went round to the three trees and told the rob- 
 bers that the night air was deadly about thar, and they had better 
 pray a little if they knew how. He told them we gave them an 
 hour, as near as we could measure the time. Sam had brought old 
 man Dale's clothes-line with him, ami when the moon was well 
 overhead we — lost all three of 'em, and marched ten miles east, and 
 erawleil into a cotton-gin and went to sleep. 
 
 " Sam Goby got a quart the next day and got raving drunk. "We 
 had to cross the river, but I was took down with this fever. So 
 Sam started alone, and missed the ford, and was drownded. And 
 nobody knows anything about them three but you and me. I reckon 
 I have killed a dozen men since this war begun. But they were 
 always doing their level best to kill me! And since we lost them 
 three devils this fever has been on me. Sam is gone, and I have to 
 go, too !" 
 
 The arrival of the doctor stopped the flow of Mr. Hardy's grew- 
 some narrative. After going the rounds the surgeon stopped a few 
 minutes at Hardy's side, asked a question or two, felt his pulses. 
 Mr. Boston followed him out. 
 
 "What ails Hardy, doctor?" he asked, when they reached the 
 open air. 
 
 *' There is some sort of mania — I am perplexed about the case. 
 He grows visibly worse day by day — says he is dying, which is an 
 unfavourable symptom. He has intermittent fever and nothing else 
 that I can discover. AVe are out of quinine." 
 
 " But I am not !" said Mr. Boston. " I have a supply in my 
 portmanteau." 
 
 " It is worth its weight in gold," said the doctor. 
 
 " Well, I don't want any gold," replied the other. "Here, take 
 my stock. I can replenish in Charleston if I need it." 
 
 " Two-grain pills," said the surgeon, examining the box. " Xow, 
 Mr. Boston, if you will give Hardy ten of these, and quiet his mind, 
 he ought to get well." 
 
142 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Suppose you give him a certificate, and let him go home for a 
 month ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I will explain to the major, and he will grant the 
 furlough, without doubt." 
 
 " May I tell him so?" asked Mr. Boston, as the surgeon left him. 
 
 " I will send the paper in ten minutes. The major is quartered 
 in the nearest house there." 
 
 The perspiration on the sick man's forehead betokened the absence 
 of fever, and the ex-hospital steward administered the prescribed 
 remedy. 
 
 " K'neen ! by thunder!" said Hardy, as he choked and spluttered. 
 
 " It is quinine, my friend," said Mr. Boston, " and the doctor says 
 you will be all sound again. Pluck up your courage, and dismiss 
 your forebodings. I have a plan." 
 
 "Ah," said Hardy, drawing his rough hand over his eyes, "you 
 are a true-grit gentleman ! Excuse me, but was you born a Yank ?" 
 
 " A Yank !" exclaimed the other. 
 
 " Yes, sir. There are plenty of Yanks in our army that were 
 raised among us. They are nigh as good as our own people." 
 
 " I am an Englishman, Mr. Hardy," said Mr. Boston, with a 
 certain air of dignity. 
 
 " English ! Well, well ! "What in thunder have you been plod- 
 ding about with us for ? English ! Well, sir, a man can't choose 
 where he'll be born ! Everybody couldn't be born in North 
 Kalliney, Hoopsy ! But that k'neen is infernal bitter ! Xo use, 
 though ! Only wasted on me. Sam is gone, and I must go too !" 
 
 "Go where?" 
 
 " After them lost fellows. The trifling rascals !" 
 
 A soldier came in, marched up to Mr. Boston, handed him a 
 folded paper, touched his cap, wheeled and marched out. 
 
 " Now, Hardy, this is my plan," said Mr. Boston, after glancing 
 at the paper: "you are demoralized. The aifair out there in the 
 Tennessee woods weighs upon your mind. And I must admit that 
 the story is horrible enough. But you will not misunderstand me 
 when I say there are extenuating circumstances. You have a judge 
 here in America who sometimes improves upon your ordinary laws. 
 You call him — Judge Lynch." 
 
 " Yes, sir. I knowed him in Californy." 
 
 "I think he presided at the jury trial you mentioned, on Mr. 
 Dale's verandah." 
 
 " There was twelve of 'em," said Hardy, " counting Sam Goby.'' 
 
HARDY'S STORY. 143 
 
 "Yes. Aiul when you ami (}()l)y — lost the marauders, you ex- 
 ecuted their verdict?" 
 
 Hardy luiuhled iu his pocket and drew out a paper. 
 
 " Here is the verdict, sir. I thon<;ht I would keep it. I took it 
 from Sam when he got tight. All their names are to it." 
 
 " Well, keep it still. You may need it some day. Now, to- 
 morrow vou will be well enough to go out. Suppose you go to 
 Raleigh ?" 
 
 " Home !" said the soldier, starting up. 
 
 " Yes. Here is your furlough. One month." 
 
 " Hooray !" said Hardy, with a feeble shout, " I'm well enough 
 now! Oh, Mr. Boston, I'm so sorry you're a ]5ritisher! You 
 ought to been born in North Kalliney ! Heavenly ]\Iarster ! If I 
 could only wipe them three devils out of my mind I would die 
 happy!" 
 
 "Listen!" said the Englishman: "Judge Lynch is known all 
 over this land as the one judge who knows no mercy. Those who 
 come before his dread tribunal bid adieu to hope. He has only one 
 penalty for all offences. In my country we have many cases of 
 murder, but we have no Judge Lynch. Heaven grant that he may 
 never set his foot on English soil ! 
 
 " It may be that he is a necessity here. I dare not utter a sweep- 
 ing condemnation, because he may be a necessary evil, permitted to 
 exercise spasmodic authority here by a wise Providence. But I 
 should rather be his victim than his executioner! 
 
 " However, there is another Judge, who rules in all lands. And all 
 cases come before His tribunal, sooner or later. And none of the 
 sons of men are pure enough to endure the scrutiny at that bar. 
 But the sentence of that final court may be evaded, because this just 
 Judge is merciful, and He has provided an advocate for all the 
 wrong-doers of earth. Do you understand ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Hardy, submissively. 
 
 " Then tell your story to this Advocate. And tell all the other 
 stories of evil deeds you have committed. You may get the entire 
 record erased at once ! You will be well enough to travel to- 
 morrow. I am going to leave your country very soon, and I have 
 a supply of your excellent currency that will not circulate beyond 
 your borders. Oblige me by spending it for me." And he put a 
 roll of notes on the mattress, shook hands with his interlocutor, and 
 passed out of Hardy's sight, now blurred with moisture — forever. 
 
144 TEE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Fixing the Day. 
 
 "A /FR. DALE discarded the noxious weed when abandoned by 
 -^-^ Mr. Boston, and passed into the other car. Miles arose 
 and offered his seat by Annot's side ; but her father waved him back, 
 and dropped into the seat behind them. There was a cloud of 
 decided sheepishness upon the young couple. Annot endeavoured 
 to look dignified. IMiles tried to look stern. 
 
 "Been quarrelling," thought Mr. Dale; "it was very thoughtless 
 in me to leave them together. This fiery youngster has offended 
 Annot by some war talk. She looks as cross as she can, and he is 
 evidently foaming with rage." 
 
 There had been an accession to the passenger list at the last station, 
 and the car was tolerably well filled. The enraged couple could not 
 talk and listen as they had done before, and they were very cautious 
 about even the exchange of glances. Every man and woman in the 
 car seemed to have eight eyes and sixteen ears. Whenever a mascu- 
 line passenger looked towards Annot, Miles turned over in his mind 
 various pretexts that might justify him in cutting the onlooker's 
 throat. Gentle Annot, catching the infection, and knowing by mag- 
 netism what Miles thought, felt prepared to assume the role of the 
 fish in "Cock Robin," and to hold the "little dish" to catch his 
 blood. Neither looked strikingly amiable. 
 
 " Suppose we reverse your seat, Annot?" said Mr. Dale ; " we can 
 converse much more pleasantly." 
 
 The young lady and Miles moved out into the aisle, and Mr. Dale 
 turned the back of the seat. Then it was highly important that 
 Annot should not ride backwards. So she took the window-seat 
 next her father. Miles sat opposite, piling up sachels in the unoccu- 
 pied seat, while the train sped on. 
 
 " Mr. Boston left us unexpectedly at the last station," observed 
 Mr. Dale. "He is an extraordinary man; has travelled all over 
 the world. He was a member of the Antarctic Expedition under 
 Spencer." 
 
 " Was he?" said Annot, stealing a look at her via-ci-vis, who was 
 scowling. 
 
 " Is he still at it ?" muttered Miles. This question referred to a 
 spruce young gentleman three or four seats off, who had been steal- 
 ing furtive glances at the lovely woman. 
 
FIXING THE DAY. 145 
 
 " Occasionally," siie replied. 
 
 " Suppose yon put your veil down ?" said Miles, spitefully. And 
 the sun went beliind a cloud. The spruce yount^ gentleman looked 
 back once more, and finding the grenadine harrier imi)enctrahle 
 betook himself to the smoking-car. Miles did not kick him as he 
 passed, and therefore mentally scored down one good action for that 
 day's record. 
 
 " I think lie was in the Crimean War," continued Mr. Dale, some- 
 what bewildered by this by-play. 
 
 " Pity he didn't lose a leg !" murmured Miles. " I beg your 
 pardon, Mr. Dale, of whom were you speaking?" 
 
 " Of Mr. Boston." 
 
 " Oh !" And he twisted his neck round and surveyed the passen- 
 gers' backs. They all seemed to be minding their own business. 
 
 "Miss Dale," said Miles, politely, "don't you find your veil 
 oppressive?" 
 
 " Dusty," she answered. She could see him through the veil. 
 
 Miles swept the satchels from the seat, and made room for her by 
 moving away from the window. 
 
 "Do you object to riding backwards? Suppose you try ? The 
 dust will not annoy you then." 
 
 "He is getting in a better humour," thought Mr. Dale, as Annot 
 changed her seat; "or maybe it is only politeness." Annot threw 
 back her veil, exposing her rosy face. Miles glared at it as if he 
 had not seen it for a month. 
 
 " Mr. Boston is from Devon. But he knows all our county also. 
 We had quite a discussion as to the relative beauties of Somerset and 
 Devon. Annot, you look very warm ! Where is your fan?" 
 
 Miles took up the fan, gave it a preliminary flirt, and she quietly 
 took it out of his fingers. 
 
 " Cross !" thought Mr. Dale. 
 
 " Do you see that deceitful wretch ?" whispered Miles ; " over there, 
 three seats down. He is pretending to read ; but he peeps over his 
 book at you every other minute. I'll spoil his game anyhow!" 
 
 So saying, he whisked out of his seat and took that beside Mr. 
 Dale, thus putting his broad shoulders between the book-man's eyes 
 and Annot. The book-man gave it up. 
 
 " Twelve more miles," said Mr. Dale ; " that is a half-hour. T 
 can get one more cigar before we reach the city. Come, ^Ir. Miles." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," answered Miles ; " but take one of my cigars. 
 Partagas." 
 
 10 
 
146 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Boston filled my case with pressed Cabafias," said Mr. 
 Dale. " You have not smoked to-day. Come !" 
 
 " I could not endure a cigar to-day. ]\Iy head, you know." 
 
 " They will fight again," said Mr. Dale, as he left the car ; " but 
 they may as well have it out. Annot looks cross and he looks 
 sheepish. I never knew the child to manifest so much temper ! 
 Would not let him fan her !" 
 
 "Come over here, you darling !" said Miles; "turn your back 
 upon that wretched inebriate, gazing at you over his book. Come!" 
 
 " You are behaving horribly, Mr. — my lord !" said Annot, as she 
 complied. 
 
 " My name is Miles Rayneford. Say Miles !" 
 
 " Mr. Miles." 
 
 " Not Mr. Miles. That is what my old housekeeper calls me. 
 Yoiir housekeeper too, Annot !" 
 
 They Avere very circumspect, as they had near neighbours, whose 
 attention had l)een attracted by their various changes in position. It 
 was not decorous to whisper constantly, yet it was extremely difficult 
 to remain silent. The things Miles wished to say were of the last 
 importance, and he was by no means certain "they would keep" 
 until the train reached the city. Besides, Mr. Dale was happily 
 absent, and in Charleston it would not be easy to find opportunities 
 for private conference. 
 
 "Annot!" he said at last, desperately, "may I call you Annot?" 
 
 " Yes. That is, if I may call you my lord." 
 
 " But you may not ! Who ever heard of a lord running block- 
 ades ? When we reach England you may." 
 
 "Then you are !Mr. Miles. Do you suppose I am going to call 
 you plain ' Miles' ? Never !" 
 
 " I must tell Mr. Dale my true name. But we cannot be married 
 under false names, Annot. I shall have to tell the clergyman too. 
 Do you happen to know a discreet clergyman in Charleston ?" 
 
 She looked curiously at his sober visage without replying. He 
 had been talking of a speedy return to England only an hour ago. 
 
 " And the British consul too !" ejaculated Miles. " The fact is, 
 Annot, a fellow is never safe when sailing under false colours. It 
 was just a fit of squeamish folly and pride that made me drop my 
 true name. Why should I conceal my name ? Yet I promised to 
 keep it secret as far as possible until my return. I did not know — 
 that is — I did not — or rather, had not formed any matrimonial plans 
 when I made that engagement," 
 
FIXIXG THE DAY. 147 
 
 She still kept silciieo. ^va^tinp: for a more explicit statement. 
 
 " I have it ! l)v Jove I" said Miles ; " we will be married on board 
 my ship, just as we leave. 1 can arrange it all. How stupid I was!" 
 
 "When do you think of sailing?" said Annot, demurely. 
 
 "Soon, soon ! Ah ! trust me to hasten matters. In two or three 
 weeks, my own darling!" 
 
 "Don't you think you might find a clergyman on the train?" she 
 said, with superb composure, " or a chaplain, or magistrate, or some- 
 thing?" 
 
 " Heh ?" said Miles, startled. 
 
 " I think you are very remiss not to provide an official of some 
 sort," she continued ; " it has been several hours since you — since 
 we stopped at the station where — where you were so rude." 
 
 " I beg your pardon !" said Miles, hopelessly bewildered. 
 
 " Do you not understand ? It is very simple. One can never 
 tell when one may meet a lady, engage in conversation, grow senti- 
 mental — propose! Then the next thing, of course, is the clergy- 
 man!" 
 
 " I see I have played the — mischief — somehow," said Miles, hum- 
 bly. " Pray forgive me, and enlighten me. I thought you loved me. 
 I know I love you. How have I offended you ?" 
 
 "By talking so composedly of clergymen and consuls, and all 
 that other nonsensical stuff!" she answered, resentfully. " How dare 
 you ! AVhy, I have only known you a week !" 
 
 " Yet all my life is compressed into that week !" whispered Miles, 
 mournfully. 
 
 Annot did not reply. She was struggling to keep back the tears 
 that were trying to come on several accounts. First, his voice was 
 sad, and her swift sympathy called for tears. Sympathy is always 
 inclined to be lachr^-mose, whether it be joyful or sad. Second, there 
 was an instant response to the last sentiment he had uttered. All 
 her life seemed to be in that same short w^eek, and she repented her 
 slight reference to that eventful epoch. Third, there was a kind- 
 faced old lady on the opposite side of the car, who was looking at 
 her, and if a single tear-drop should come, she felt sure that old lady 
 would offer assistance or condolence. Of course, that reflection made 
 the tear more eager to come ! She kept it back, however, by resolute 
 effort. 
 
 What a tiger this man was ! He had courted her most aggress- 
 ively from the first, and in an unguarded moment had forced her 
 to acknowledge her interest in him, and then took her in his strong 
 
148 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 arms and kissed her! No circumspect approaches, but a direct, open 
 assault ; so sudden that she just began to be conscious of the out- 
 rage ! How handsome he was ! 
 
 " Do you know, Annot," he said, composedly, " that I am still 
 stunned when I think of your affection for me ? You say you have 
 only known me a week. It seems to me that I have known you all 
 my life. I cannot recall a time in the past when I have not longed 
 for you ! Because you only, of all the women I have ever known, 
 could awaken in me the love I must feel for the woman I marr}\ 
 How false my life has been hitherto ! I thought of marriage very 
 much as I thought of freeing Hawkley from mortgage. Hawkley 
 ought to be free from debt, and Hawkley ought to have a Lady 
 Rayneford ! And now — now — I would be entirely happy if I 
 owned yonder hut, and I would rejoice in daily labour if I could go 
 home to you at the close of the day. I do not value Hawkley, ex- 
 cept for your sake. I do not care for gentle breeding, except that it 
 admits me to your society. And if you should propose that I re- 
 linquish my English home and English name to marry you, my 
 consent would be instant and joyful." 
 
 She had no thought of interrupting this fine flow. It was novel, 
 certainly, but not unpleasant. 
 
 "It is not at all strange that you should like me a little," he 
 continued, " because I love you so entirely. Of course you can never 
 love a great, rough fellow with equal affection. That is not to be 
 expected," 
 
 '* What a blind donkey the man is !" thought Annot. 
 
 " Now about this matter of clergymen and consuls," he proceeded 
 cautiously, " let me explain. I have been very much of a book-man, 
 and am ignorant of customs. Now, I recall the fact, that fellows 
 who have married, among my friends, seemed to take weeks and 
 months of preparation ! I remember Sir Lionel Forbes, who told 
 me in September that he would be married in January. I remember 
 Mr. Compton, who married Lady Agnes Minor; he told me at the 
 club, in June, that he would marry some time in the winter. But I 
 never thought of such a thing as love, and I suppose they did not 
 either. Suppose you were to tell me that we should be married next 
 winter !" 
 
 " I have no such intention !" said Annot, indignantly. 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" ejaculated Miles, piously. " Next winter ! If 
 my vital energy should be equal to the strain — and there have been 
 men who lived in dungeons for a longer period — you would take a 
 
FIXING THE DAY. 149 
 
 shattered wreck of a man alter such jirobation. Next winter ! Wliy, 
 I shudder at the thought of waitinjij until next week!" 
 
 " Lord Rayneford," said Annot, impressively, "it seems hidicrous 
 to answer you seriously. But you talk so seriously that I am forced 
 to believe you are expressing your real sentiments," 
 
 " You will never hear from me anything else than my real senti- 
 ments, Annot." 
 
 " ^Vell — I also am somewhat ignorant of such matters. But I am 
 sure there is no case in civilized lands where — where a lady married 
 a gentleman upon one week's acquaintance !" 
 
 " At it again !" said Mr. Dale, suddenly appearing in the aisle, 
 and then dropping into the seat opposite the disputants. "Well, 
 you cannot quarrel much longer. We are at Charleston. Come, 
 now! What in the world are you arguing about?" 
 
 " Miss Dale" has been reading Sir Charles Lyell's book," said 
 Miles, " in which he demonstrates that the work of creation, instead 
 of taking six days, really required six thousand million ages !" 
 
 " Ah !" said ^Ir. Dale, " there is an excellent book by Hugh ISIil- 
 ler. I saw an extract from it recently, in a newspaper. It is the 
 'Testimony of the Rocks.' But, really, it is not wise to get into 
 such a heat over discussions of this sort! Annot, you look as stern 
 as if the Thirty-nine Articles were in jeopardy." 
 
 " You shall have your own way, Miss Dale," said Miles. " Shake 
 hands !" 
 
 Annot put her little hand in his, and he crushed her delicate 
 fingers repentingly. 
 
 " Gather up your impedimenta,^^ said Mr. Dale. " We are nearing 
 the station. Take charge of Annot, please. I will get a carriage. 
 Mills House, of course?" 
 
 " I have rooms there," answered Miles. " We will follow you. 
 Allow me to assist you, INIiss Dale. Better put your veil down. 
 That jackanapes is gaping at you again !" 
 
 Mr. Miles had a parlour. Certain luxurious habits clung to him, 
 and he had taken rooms en suite, as a matter of course, when he 
 landed. The trio were conducted into his parlour, and Mr. Dale 
 descended to the office to select rooms for himself and daughter, and 
 once more Annot and Miles were alone. 
 
 " Are we friends again ?" he said, holding out his arms. 
 
 She allowed him to hold her a moment, and then extricating her- 
 self, sat down on the sofa, motioning him to a seat beside her. 
 
 " Now listen !" she said. " First of all, we must tell father." 
 
150 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Shall I go for him?" 
 
 " He is coming. Second, you may kiss me once a day — only 
 once !" 
 
 " I will take to-day's now," said Miles, and he did. 
 
 " Third, you must not speak of marriage until — here is father !" 
 
 Mr, Dale entered the room. Miles had his arm around her waist, 
 and he did not withdraw it. 
 
 " This is Lord Rayneford, father," said Annot, simply; "and he 
 has asked me to become Lady Rayneford." 
 
 " Hell ! Why, Annot ! So sudden ! You were quarrelling like 
 Kilkenny cats half an hour ago !" 
 
 " But he asked me three days ago, sir. And I have referred him 
 to you. And if you say I must, I am willing to marry him. In 
 about five years." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 Fixed. 
 
 THE " Nellie" took in her return cargo with rapidity, after the 
 return of Mr. Miles to Charleston. The original plan was to 
 wait for the new crop of cotton, as Mr. Brentam's experience led 
 him to expect lower prices in the early autumn. But Miles was 
 strongly advised by his factors to load his vessel with the old crop, 
 and get to sea as early as possible. The chief argument in favour 
 of prompt action was the increasing rigour of the blockade. Two 
 vessels had been recently captured oif the harbour. One, outward- 
 bound, laden with turpentine ; the other, a swift English steamer, 
 with a valuable cargo of arms, had been caught almost over the 
 bar by the cruisers outside. This disaster affected the market per- 
 ceptibly, and Miles bought the cotton that was destined for the 
 unlucky ship last mentioned at a marked reduction. 
 
 Miles laid all the facts before the captain of the " Nellie," and 
 asked for his advice as to the matter of sailing. The " Nellie" was 
 a fast sailer, and neither captain nor supercargo had any fears of a 
 chase, if she could only get fairly out to sea. But there were 
 six steamers reported constantly off the bar, and three others were 
 cruising along the coast between Cape Fear and Savannah. The 
 blockade-runners knew the names of them all, the number of guns 
 each carried, and the relative speed of each. They knew when one 
 
FIXED. 151 
 
 or two of the squadron would be relieved by the coasting vessels, 
 and generally knew what ports along the coast were being watched 
 with spwial vigilance. There were four other blockade-runners at 
 the wharves in Charleston, all eager to get out, yet all so demoral- 
 ised bv the recent reverses that the date of their departure was 
 indefinitely iK)stponed. 
 
 *' :My rule, Mr. Miles," said the captiiin, " is to obey my owners' 
 ordei-s, and not to put in any of my jaw\" 
 
 " But I want your advice, captiiiu," replied the supercargo. 
 " Can't give advice," said the captain, shaking his head. " You 
 will have six hundred bales of cotton on board, and the 'Nellie' is 
 worth thirty thousand dollars if empty. That makes jwoty nigh 
 two hundred thousand dollars, or forty thousand pounds in your 
 outlandish money." 
 
 " It is a large sum," answered Miles. 
 
 " Yaas. And if the * Xellie' should be captivated by them half- 
 dozen blowers outside, I haven't enough money about my clothes to 
 pay for her. Don't want to risk another man's money on my 
 advice." 
 
 " But you can indicate what you would do if you owned vessel 
 and cargo." 
 
 " It would depend on circumstances," replied the captain. " If 
 the blockade was going to be kept up as strictly as at present, I 
 should most likely try the run when the weather suited. Then the 
 price of cotton in Liverpool would make me more active if it was 
 high, and more lazy if it was low." 
 " When will you be able to sail ?" 
 " In five days, if need be." 
 
 The supercargo went back to his hotel undecided. Clearly, he 
 must take advice from Mr. Dale, Miss Dale, and Mr. Boston. The 
 latter had spent one day in Charleston, but was absent again, bear- 
 ing some last words to a soldier's widow in the interior of the State. 
 The relations subsisting between Rayneford and the Dales were 
 pleasant enough to satisfy a far more unreasonable lover than Miles. 
 :Mr. Dale had given instant approval to the engagement of his 
 daughter, merely remarking that lie would have been better satisfied 
 if his original su})position had proved correct, and Miles had been 
 only Mr. Rayneford. The suitor himself had reflected upon the 
 matter, and decided that his eager courtship was not entirely deco- 
 rous; therefore, since their arrival at Charleston, he had uttered no 
 liint about marriage, except in a few words to Annot. 
 
152 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " I wish to apologise, Annot," he said that afternoon, seizing a 
 moment when Mr. Dale was out of earshot. "I think it was inde- 
 corous to press my suit so vehemently to-day. Attribute it to my 
 ignorance, and forgive me. I am too happy in knowing that I need 
 dread no rival to annoy you with aggressive courtship," 
 
 There was policy in this as well as delicacy. They were both 
 much more at their ease, and each discovered new traits in the other 
 worthy of admiration as the days passed. At the end of the second 
 week they were more intimately " acquainted" than they could pos- 
 sibly have been in a month of fervent love-making. Tiiey fell 
 easily into the habit of referring to their future lives at Hawkley, 
 while Mr. Dale joined in the discussion of their plans. If Miles 
 had only known it, he would have been enraptured at his progress. 
 He was approaching matrimony at a tremendous pace. 
 
 " We were waiting for you," said Mr. Dale, when Miles returned 
 from his interview with the skipper. '* We have decided." 
 
 "What is the decision?" answered Rayneford, retaining Annot's 
 plump hand, as he took the seat at her side. 
 
 " To sail with you." 
 
 " Impossible ! Blockade-runners do not carry lady pa.ssengers." 
 
 " And why not ?" said Annot. 
 
 " Because they are not so safe as regular steamers. Mr. Boston 
 said you could easily get through the lines, being British subjects. 
 I wish I could go with you ! But I am bound to stick by my ship. 
 Once under the Federal flag, you can reach New York in a day or 
 two. And you can reach England within a fortnight thereafter." 
 
 " Mr. Boston is mistaken," replied Mr. Dale, " or, rather, the 
 difficulties are greater than he supposes. There have been some 
 cases of very rough treatment recently. A party tried to get through 
 under a flag of truce last week, but they were promptly sent back, 
 and they have now gone to Kentucky, hoping to reach the Ohio 
 River and get across. We thought of that route, too." 
 
 " It is the better way," said Miles. " I wish I might be your 
 escort. But the ' Nellie' will be ready for sea in a few days." 
 
 "Suppose you send another supercargo?" said Miss Dale, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " If I were sole owner I would gladly do so," replied Rayneford : 
 " but it is impossible. My partner entrusts his interests to me, and 
 I cannot transfer the responsibility to another. Besides, it is not so 
 easy to get out. There are six cruisers constantly off the bar. I 
 cannot put the risk I dislike myself on another." 
 
FIXED. 153 
 
 "And you are rcsolveil to go in the ' Nellie'?" asked Annot, as her 
 father moved over to the window. The old gentleman had a secret 
 idea that it would be better policy to Iciive the discussion in Annot's 
 liaiids. So he betook himself out of earshot. 
 
 '' Xoldc^Kc obliijc, my darling," answered Miles; " I need not dis- 
 cuss that point with you." 
 
 "Suppose," said Annot, shyly — "suppose you had been a long 
 time hero, and that we had — married? Would you leave me and 
 take your ship?" 
 
 " I would take both ! Leave you, my wife ! Never ! Because 
 I would then belong to you. Because you w'ould risk capture, or 
 the sinking of tlje vessel, rather than let me go without you ! Be- 
 cause I could never allow my wife to travel through this war-torn 
 country without me." 
 
 "Suppose," continued Annot, "that father and I both prefer the 
 risk of capture, or — worse, rather than — than incur the risks of the 
 land journey?" 
 
 " Then," said Miles, gravely, " my duty is plain. I must show 
 you how much more promising the land route is. I must tell you 
 that I am bound to carry the 'Nellie' past the guns of the Federal 
 ships ! And the gunners will not refuse to sink the ' Nellie' because 
 she has a lady passenger." 
 
 " You would have a lady passenger if — if my first supposition 
 were true." 
 
 " Yes, Atmot," answered Miles ; " but all the world and my own 
 conscience would acquit me then. But I should feel very guilty if 
 I were to allow a young lady, not Mrs. Supercargo Miles, to run 
 into unnecessary danger. Do you not see the difference? Since I 
 have known you I have learned much about matrimony and its 
 obligations. A wife is so much a part of her husband that she 
 braves death rather than separation. And a husband is so identical 
 with his wife that death does not appal him when it threatens both 
 together ! But it is far different with jNIiss Dale. I should not 
 dream of killing you if I knew I w'ould die to-night." 
 
 "That is what father would call 'astounding rubbish,'" said Miss 
 Dale ; " and I don't think I could contradict him. Supjwse the 
 * Nellie' captured, what would the captors do ? I mean with super- 
 cargo and passengers." 
 
 " I suppose they would send them all to New York. They would 
 confiscate all the property of the supercargo. Perhaps the passen- 
 gers — if British subjects — could obtain their freedom by application 
 
154 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 to Her Majesty's representative. But the blockade-runner is a law- 
 breaker, or rather a law-defier. They would probably put him in a 
 fort until the war ends. You see, he would be a prisoner of war." 
 
 " If you sail without us — father and me — would you surrender 
 the ' Nellie' when they began to shoot " 
 
 " How can I tell ?" 
 
 " Answer me, please ! Would you still endeavor to escape ?" 
 
 " I think I might take a shot or two before I yielded up forty 
 thousand pounds ! I cannot shoot back, you know ! If the ' Nellie' 
 were armed, she would be called a pirate. But I think I should 
 continue to run so long as her machinery would work." 
 
 " And you would be out of personal danger — I mean down in the 
 hold, or whatever it is ? Out of the reach of shot '?" 
 
 "Heh?" 
 
 " Oh, what demons men are !" said Annot, in a rage. " Don't I 
 know how you rode up to the very cannon's mouths at Long Meadow ? 
 While I was kneeling by my window trying to pray for your safety, 
 and while every boom of the dreadful guns seemed to shake the life 
 out of my body, you — you were braving a thousand deaths — for 
 nothing !" 
 
 " Were you praying for me then, Annot ?" said Miles, tenderly. 
 " Well, I was riding by the side of the man I thought you loved — 
 for your sake. Do not say — for nothing. If I had not loved you 
 then, I should not have faced those bullets. I had some such 
 thought as this : ' She will ask me how Stanly bore himself, and I 
 must watch him that I may tell her.' Because I thought he would 
 surely be slain. Ah, it was beautiful in all its horrors to see that 
 dauntless warrior !" 
 
 "And he, filled with the rage of battle, was excusable; but 
 you " 
 
 " I was filled with something better than battle-rage," replied 
 Miles. " I was filled with pure, unselfish love. For I had no more 
 thought of winning you then than I had of conquering the country. 
 For, look you, if you had loved him, I should never have spoken 
 of love to you, though he were twenty times dead. You would have 
 been his widow, and sacred in my eyes." 
 
 " It seems that your theory is one-sided," observed Annot. " I 
 think you told me that you had — had made certain proposals before 
 you left England " 
 
 " But I did not tell you I ever loved another woman," interrupted 
 Miles. " I was ignorant of the very existence of the sentiments I 
 
FIXED. 166 
 
 now cherish. I thought of the other as the mistress of my house. 
 I think of you only iis part of my own life, and I could not hear to 
 think you had ever given your love to any other. I do not offer 
 you the poor reninants of a broken heart. You have the very fii-st 
 earnest pulsations my heart has ever known." 
 
 " If you were to sail on this dangerous voyage," said Annot, after 
 a pause, " and leave me here " 
 
 " My darling!" whispered Miles, "solve the problem. It is in 
 your own power." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 "Marry me! No obligation could tear me away from my wife ! 
 Why should you delay ? Is it because you do not know me well 
 enough? Ah, no! You know everything when you believe the 
 depth and sincerity of my affection. Is it because others might say 
 there was unseemly haste? Why, nobody knows that we were not 
 lovers in our childhood. You come from my birthplace " 
 
 " I was born here." 
 
 " Yes. But your father is my near neighbour. The lauds of 
 Hawkley are divided from Dale's Manor by a he<lge." 
 
 " What have you said to Mr. Boston about me ?" said Annot, 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Not one word. Why do you ask ?" 
 
 " Because he — he talked to me the other day. After you left us 
 to go to your ship. He said — it was marvellous how cruel gentle 
 women could be ! He said I was your Annie Laurie ! How did 
 he know anything about Annie Laurie, sir?" 
 
 " I don't know," answered Miles. " He meant you w^ere all the 
 world to me." 
 
 « Who told him ?" 
 
 " Not I !" answered Miles, stoutly. 
 
 " Well ! He said you would certainly never take me on the 
 ' Nellie' as a passenger ! And he emphasized the words. And then 
 he took father off for a walk, and when they returned " 
 
 " Well, what then ?" 
 
 " Both he and father said precisely what you have said." She 
 looked round for Mr. Dale, but he had disappeared. "They said — 
 Mrs. Miles and her father could go with propriety in the 'Nellie/ 
 while Miss Dale and her father could not." 
 
 "Go on, my darling I" said Miles. 
 
 "I cannot go on, sir!" replied Annot, hiding her face on his 
 shoulder. " You do not give me any choice. You tell me you will 
 
156 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 leave me to encounter unknown clangers on tlie sea. I will not be 
 left, sir ! A hyena would not be so cruel as you are !" 
 
 "Will you go with me, Annot?" 
 
 " Why don't you ask father ?" she answered, as she tore herself 
 away from his encircling arms, just as Mr. Dale, treading softly, re- 
 entered the room. There was a pleasant smile on the paternal face 
 as she whisked out of it with a parting shot. 
 
 " If I live to reach England," and she held up a warning finger, 
 " I will make you both repent your scheming !" 
 
 " That means consent, my boy," said Mr. Dale. " It does seem a 
 little hasty, but the circumstances are peculiar. And I can entrust 
 my child's happiness to your father's son. When will you sail ?" 
 
 "On Tuesday of next week, if no unforeseen obstacle arises." 
 
 " And on Tuesday morning we will have a wedding. There are 
 two officers of Her Majesty's army here. Mr. Boston will be here. 
 The British consul will be present also. And we will put them all 
 upon honour when Annot becomes Lady Rayueford." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Dale !" said Miles, " I begin to dread the sea now." 
 
 "Do you?" replied Mr. Dale. "Well, that is a good omen. 
 Ha, ha!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 Mr. Boston. 
 
 IT was a very select, but also a very merry party that met at the 
 wedding breakfast, in a private parlor in the Mills House, 
 Charleston. Lord and Lady Rayneford, forming " the handsomest 
 couple he had ever married," were explaining to the Reverend Rector 
 of St. Stephen's Church the urgent need for maintaining their in- 
 cognito until after the " Nellie" crossed the bar. Captains Delancy 
 and Saybrooke were explaining to Mr. Dale how they had obtained 
 furloughs from the Governor-General of Canada, in order to take 
 part in the American war. Mr. Boston was exhibiting certain docu- 
 ments to the commercial representative of Her Majesty, in order to 
 establish his identity. 
 
 " As we are all friends and countrymen," said Mr. Boston, when 
 the servants had retired, " we can talk with perfect freedom. I am 
 sorry to say that this happy marriage has been brought about by a 
 
MR. BOSTON. 157 
 
 deliberate conspiracy! And as I am tl.c .n...t guilty of the con- 
 spirators, I bog attention to my penitent confession. 
 
 "Hear, hear!" .<aid the company. ^ -, i t 
 
 " First then," said the orator, " I knew Lord Rayneford when i 
 first met 'him. He called himself by another name, and therefore I 
 could not reveal mv knowledge even to himself. He was po.nted 
 out to me two veai's ago, in London, at one of the clubs by Mr. 
 Plimpton, who is his kinsman. Two or three weeks ago a blockade- 
 runner brought an English mail into Savannah, and tl.ere was a 
 letter from Mr. Plimpton to me announcing Lord Kaynetord s 
 mysterious disappearance." 
 ■"Hear, hear!" ^. . ., . t 
 
 " In the second place, my friend, Mr. Dale, discovenng that I was 
 a barri^^ter revealed to me certain fragments of legal history, and 
 quite incidentally referred to my lord as his neighbour in Somerset. 
 He was strongly attracted, of course, and in the course of conversa- 
 tion (in the smoking-car, Mr. Dale!) he lamented that his daughter, 
 now Lady Rayneford, had so positive a repugnance to my lord that 
 she could not refrain from constant quarrelling. As I have had 
 some experience in a similar direction, I knew there could be no 
 quarrellin- between our excellent friends without some foundation 
 in previous liking. I had overheard some remarks from Rayne- 
 ford, when he was delirious from fever, that revealed his interest in 
 ISIiss Dale. It was clearly my duty, therefore, to get them married, 
 so that they might quarrel in peace !" 
 " Hear, hear !" 
 
 " There was, of course, the grand obstacle which senseless custom 
 has erected for the special torture of humanity. I mean the necessity 
 for a prolonged engagement and courtship, and the difficulty of ob- 
 taining'- dresses from New York or London, the labour of keeping 
 my load's courage up, and others which will suggest themselves. 
 They were originally agreed upon an impossible plan, namely : to 
 take Mr. and Miss Dale as passengers in Lord Rayneford s ship. 
 But I managed to drop a hint in his lordship's ear to the effect that 
 blockaders were very apt to shoot at blockade-runners. This sugges- 
 tion changed his plans. He must take his ship home. He would 
 never consent to take a lady passenger. My lady would not consent 
 to his departure on this journey, whose dangers, I confess, I some- 
 what magnified. But if married, he thought he might risk his wife, 
 though he could not honourably risk a p;issenger in whom he had no 
 vested interests." 
 
158 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Hear, hear !" 
 
 " I happen also to know that the return of the entire party to 
 England is not at all difficult, by Avay of New York. I thought it 
 could be done under a flag of truce, but there are doubts and diffi- 
 culties in the way of this arrangement. However, I know of a sure 
 route by which they can reach Federal soil, through West Virginia." 
 
 "And the ship?" said Lord Rayneford. 
 
 " Ah !" replied Mr. Boston, "there is the most brilliant stroke of 
 genius. Now consider the case. If you could get your ship into 
 Federal waters, and get a legal clearance, you would be sure of the 
 value of ship and cargo, always allowing for the dangers of naviga- 
 tion." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well, I have arranged that also. You shall take the ' Nellie' 
 to New York and thence to Liverpool — or her equivalent in 
 money." 
 
 " Equivalent ?" said Rayneford. 
 
 " Yes. The blockade is so rigid, that she is not saleable as she 
 stands. But I know an Englishman who will buy ship and cargo 
 at your valuation, who will give you a few hundred pounds in Bank 
 of England notes, and drafts upon his London bankers duly authen- 
 ticated by their Charleston correspondents, for the remainder." 
 
 " And the blockade ?" said Lord Rayneford — " does he know 
 there are six cruisers off the harbour ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied the other, indifferently, "I fancy he knows all 
 about the blockade. But he is partial to blockaders, and is quite 
 eager to undertake the adventure." 
 
 " May I ask his name ?" said Rayneford. 
 
 " His name," answered the other, slowly — " is — stay ! I have his 
 card." And he took it from his pocket-book, and gave it, with a bow, 
 to Lady Rayneford. It passed from hand to hand around the table, 
 until it reached Mr. Dale, who read the name aloud.. 
 
 "Mr. Lacy Barston, 
 
 " Oakland, 
 
 " Lavington, 
 
 " Devon." 
 
 " I know him !" said Captain Delancy, excitedly, " Barston ! 
 Certainly. Just like him ! Never expect Barston to do what other 
 men do. Been all over the world. Half doctor, half lawyer, half 
 
MR. BOSTOX. 159 
 
 parson — and like those Kentucky follows — half horse and half alli- 
 frator ! Was in the Crimea with our fellows. Rides like a centaur. 
 Fiirlits like the devil ! Beg pardon, your ladyship! I was only 
 quoting; !'' 
 
 " There must be some mistake," said Mr. Boston. 
 
 " No mistake, I assure you ! ^ly brother-in-law was with him at 
 Balaklava. Lacy Barston ! Certainly. I have heard a hundred 
 stories about him. Plenty of tin, too! He could buy a dozen of 
 your ships, my lord ! Well, well ! In Charleston I I will certainly 
 find him to-morrow. I'd give ten jiounds just to see him !" 
 
 '* Ah, he is a friend of yours ?" said Mr, Boston. 
 
 " Yes ! That is, I never saw him, but he is a friend of Tom's — 
 my brother-in-law, you know. By Jove ! I should say he was a 
 friend of mine ! What is he doing here?" ^ 
 
 "He has been looking for sugar," replied Mr. Boston, coolly. 
 " He wishes to get a special kind of sugar, and has been on the 
 liouisiana plantations, and now intends to examine the plantations at 
 Porto Rico. He intends to go out in the ' Xellie,' if Lord Rayne- 
 ford siiould consent to sell her. Now, gentlemen, you have seen the 
 result of all my plans. Come, Mr. Dale. While my lord and your 
 daughter arrange their first matrimonial quarrel, let us go to the 
 bankers' and investigate this Mr. Barston. Mr. Cardon will go with 
 us." 
 
 " With pleasure," said the consul, "and I think you will find his 
 record quite satisfactory. Good morning, your ladyship ! Good 
 morning, ray lord ! Ah, Captain Delancy, I know some of Mr. 
 Barston's tricks that you never heard of! I will tell you another 
 time. Good morning !" 
 
 The rector, the captains, and the consul departed, and Mr. Boston, 
 following, was detained by a touch on his arm. It was Annot. She 
 drew him back into the room and led him to the sofa, seating him 
 between herself and Miles. 
 
 " Now, sir," she said, " please explain. Begin !" 
 
 " Begin ?" said the other, sheepishly. " Explain what?" 
 
 " Your interest in sugar," she answered, severely. 
 
 " My interest — Mr. Barston really desires " 
 
 "Sjieak in the first person, if you please. Oh, Mr. Barston ! If 
 your scheme were possible I could find no words to express my joy 
 and gratitude." 
 
 "Fiddle-de-dee!" And he turned his great blue eyes, full of 
 kind sympathy, from Rayneford to Annof. "Listen, -then. It is 
 
160 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 simple truth I told you. I want sugar. And, by the Three Kings 
 of Cologne ! I am going to get it ! 
 
 " The world is full of frauds. I have sought in vain for pure 
 sugar in England. I am going to Porto Rico. I intend to see it 
 made, granulated, packed, and shipped to Oakland. My friend 
 E-ayneford, you cannot take this little lady out in the 'Nellie.' My 
 child, you are a little heroine, but you cannot brave the dangers of 
 this trip. I want your vessel, Rayneford. Will you sell ?" 
 
 ''You do not need the 'Kellie' to get your sugar," said Rayne- 
 ford. 
 
 " But I do. I am going to buy a blockade-runner and cargo. 
 And I like yours best. I have been all through all of them." 
 
 " Why do you want mine ?" 
 
 "Because she is called 'Nellie.' The darling! Name your price, 
 man." 
 
 " I am at a loss to decide this matter," said Rayneford, thought- 
 fully. " If my partner could be consulted, I think he would advise 
 me to sell ; but he expected me to bring a return cargo. When I 
 came in there were only four ships guarding this port. Now there 
 are eight. Compared with the risk of capture, your proposal, Mr. 
 Boston — Barston, I mean " 
 
 " The soldiers changed my name," interrupted Mr. Barston. " I 
 never gave the matter much attention until one of them recently 
 asked me if I was born in Boston. I have a commission somewhere, 
 regularly appointing Lacy Barston as hospital steward, with per- 
 mission to change from one army corps to another at pleasure. How 
 did you identify me so speedily, madame?" 
 
 " By your manner when you said you knew an Englishman who 
 would purchase the vessel. By Captain Delancy's description — half 
 doctor, half lawyer, half parson. I have known you in all char- 
 acters." 
 
 "And the rest," said Barston, laughing — "half horse, half alli- 
 gator ?" 
 
 " Accurate enough," replied Annot. " But I discovered two 
 weeks ago that with your numerous halves you were also whole 
 gentleman." 
 
 " I thank you, my lady. Now, Rayneford, hear my proposal. 
 I will pay you the cost of your vessel and the cost of cargo, adding 
 the additional value in Liverpool by the latest advices ; we will have 
 the transfer made by your factor, and settle through your bankers 
 here. I can give you some money for your present needs, and here 
 
MR. BOSTON. 161 
 
 is my circular credit authorising drafts up to one iiundred thousand 
 ])()uiuls, on Smiths, Payne & Smith, London. Come with me and 
 Mr. Dale to tlie bankers', and see this document verified. You, my 
 lady, will please have all your luggage ready — the less the better — 
 and prepare to start this afternoon for the bleak North. You must 
 go to Charlotte, North Carolina, thence to Lynchburg, Virginia, 
 and then you will have some tiresome stage travel until you are 
 through the lines. The party starts at four o'clock. In four days 
 you will be in New York, and one week from to-morrow you may 
 embark for Liverpool." 
 
 " What shall I do, Annot?" said Lord Rayneford. 
 
 " Obey Mr. Barston implicitly," replied Annot. 
 
 " That is my verdict also," said Mr. Dale, who had been a silent 
 listener to the foregoing colloquy. " Come on, gentlemen. You 
 have so decided, Rayneford, have you not?" 
 
 "I am hesitating only because " 
 
 " What *is it ?" said Barston. " Out with it !" 
 
 "Because," said Miles, gravely, "it is not just. You, full of 
 kindness, and careless about money gains or losses, propose a wild 
 bargain. No other man in Charleston or elsewhere would buy the 
 ship under present circumstances ! Her escape is ne:irly impossi- 
 ble!" 
 
 " Indeed !" replied Barston. " Well, I can remove your anxiety. 
 First, there is an easterly storm in progress, and it is increasing. 
 By nightfall it will be furious. This is the judgment of your cap- 
 tain, who is an old salt. It is my judgment also, and I am an old 
 salt. When the storm is at its worst, I intend to steam right out 
 and over the bar, and strike down the coast. The cruisers will not 
 dare to follow, even if they see us. The ship is cleared for Nassau 
 and a market. I can go where I please ! I do not dread the risk. 
 As for the price, I confidently expect to make at least five thousand 
 pounds by the advance in the price of cotton. It is my first com- 
 mercial adventure, and I am willing to promise that I will hold ship 
 and cargo until I can get five thousand pounds profit! I am posi- 
 tively certain that it is only a question of time. Because this vigi- 
 lant blockade tends to this precise result. When you are gliding 
 over the rails this afternoon, the blockaders will be steaming off 
 the coast. I shall escape them, I tell you! Come away ! Fare- 
 well, my lady! In the dear Land beyond the sea we shall meet 
 again. And," here his handsome face flushed a little, " I hope to 
 
 introduce to you a darling little lady, some day " 
 
 ll' 
 
162 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Her name ?" said Annot. " I Avish to put it in my prayers, when 
 I am praying for your safety and success," 
 
 " Her name ?" said the other, doubtfully. " Well, there are two !" 
 
 "Two!" said Annot, horror-stricken. 
 
 "Yes, two! One is named Nellie. Pray for her, and — and her 
 kindred, and you will include the other ! Come ! Time is gallop- 
 ping away !" 
 
 In two hours more the transfers were all effected. The hankers 
 pronounced Mr. Barston's drafts entirely satisfactory. Mr. Cardon, 
 the consul, knew Mr. Barston, and had known him from boyhood. 
 His brother was a surgeon in London, and had been Barston's 
 preceptor. This was communicated privately to Mr. Dale. Lord 
 Rayneford had caught the infection from Annot, and was quite 
 ready to take Barston's naked word for everything. He received 
 minute directions as to the route to the North, and at four o'clock 
 they exchanged adieux at the station, while the rain Mas lashing the 
 roof. 
 
 " You will reach Columbia by midnight," said Barston, as they 
 parted, "and then will take the Charlotte train. You must travel 
 steadily three or four days. If no misadventure befall you, you 
 may go to church in New York on the next Sunday. Think of me 
 then as in the tropics. Health and high fortune attend you, dear 
 friends !" 
 
 "And you!" said they all, shaking hands with him. "You 
 have inspired us with your confidence. We shall meet again." 
 
 Mr. Barston walked soberly down to the wharf He had sent 
 his trunk on board the "Nellie," and went immediately on board, 
 and into the narrow cabin. The captain watched him with absorbed 
 attention while he took off the water-proof coat he wore, drew off 
 his wet boots, and replaced them with slippers. 
 • " Now, captain," said he, stretching himself out at full length on 
 the settee, " I don't think we shall have a more promising night 
 than this. All your stores are aboard ?" 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 "It is all agreed, then, as you said. Steam out whenever dark- 
 ness comes, and waken me when we cross the bar. I just want forty 
 winks." 
 
 And he was sound asleep in two minutes. 
 
TEE CHASE. 163 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 The Chase. 
 
 THE easterly storm predicted by Mr. Barston was punctual in 
 appearance. Wiien the " Nellie" steamed slowly past Fort 
 Sumter, the waves were dashing at its foundations with a constantly- 
 increasing roar. The captain was carefully watching the ])rogress 
 of the vessel, his design being to cross the bar at the top of the tide. 
 It was near midnight when the regular, long swell of the sea lifted 
 tlie bows of the steamer, and wakened the sleeper in the cabin. 
 
 "OH" soundings, by the Three Kings!" said he, broad awake on 
 the instant. " There can be no mistake about that swell. Now, 
 captain, I've had my nap. If you will turn in, I will take the 
 deck." 
 
 " Rainin' like blazes!" responded the captain. "You must have 
 navigated some, Mr. Barston, to tell the jerk of the ship so soon." 
 
 "Yes; I have been on many seas. How delightful the odour of 
 salt water ! I will put on my overcoat and try the deck. See ! I 
 am water-proof now — oilskin cap and rubber boots. I paid four 
 hundred dollars for those boots." 
 
 "Four hundred — what?" said the captain. 
 
 " Dollars — Confederate dollars. I bought them from a soldier I 
 was nursing. The poor fellow had been badly hurt, and both legs 
 were amputated. The boots were much smaller than his feet. I 
 measured them after we — that is — the doctor had taken the legs off. 
 I am afraid he did not get those boots honestly. They were quite 
 new." 
 
 " How d'you s'pose he got 'em ?" 
 
 " There had been a raid into Lexington, but the Confederates were 
 driven out by a superior force. They only had the town about an 
 hour, but my patient had ])robably visited a boot-store. He made 
 the most of his opportunities. The boots were dangling at his belt 
 when he was knocked over. Hist ! there goes a gun I and an- 
 other I" 
 
 "Them blowers are signalling," said the captain, composedly, as 
 he followed the other up the cabin stair. " Whereawav was the 
 shootin'. Bill ?" 
 
 " Fust shot on the port bow," answered the sailor; "second, dead 
 ahead. There they go ag'in ! Two shots on the port bow." 
 
 " Blank !" said the ca})tain ; " they can't see us. That's certain ! 
 
164 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 They are only signallin' ! Watch out ahead, Bill, for the answer. 
 Boom ! There it is ! No lights on the ship, Bill ?" 
 
 "Not a spark, sir, 'eept the binnacle." 
 
 " That ship to the norrard," observed the captain, " ain't more'u 
 a mile off. Keep quiet, everybody, and listen !" 
 
 The patter of the rain on the deck ; the whistle of the Mand in the 
 rigging ; the surge of the sea as the vessel sped onward ; the subdued 
 rumble of the engines, deep down in the ship; the wash and rattle 
 of the screw as she rose and fell on the long waves — these were the 
 sounds that the watchers heard and distinguished. Then a clear, 
 metallic tingle, like the rattle of a sixpence on a sheet of glass. 
 
 " Eight bells," muttered the captain, " and close by ! Hard a port! 
 Put her nose a point east of south. Must allow su'thin' for leeway, 
 Mr. Barston, we must run as nigh south as we can till dayligiit. 
 Them blowers are as nigh the coast as they dare to be. We must 
 go a little nigher." 
 
 "" How much offing do you estimate, captain ?" enquired the other. 
 
 "Eight mile good. It was six bells when we struck open water. 
 My notion is this : them blowers are jest strung out along the coast. 
 If we run straight out they will see us by daylight, and we are too 
 deep to make speed. If we run down the coast we can put into 
 harbour, mebbe, if they get too thick. They know w'e want to make 
 Nassau just as well as we do! And they know the 'Nellie' is 
 spunky, and I shouldn't wonder if they knew when we cast off at 
 Charleston wharf. Dern 'em, they know everything !" 
 
 " This promises to be an interesting little adventure," observed 
 Mr. Barston. " I would give half a crown now for a smoke ! But 
 it would not be judicious." 
 
 " Can smoke in the cabin," said the captain. 
 
 " Cabin ! ' Cabined, cribbed, confined !' Not I ! While you 
 M'alk this deck I am with you. Hark ! I hear a fog-whistle !" 
 
 " Blower ahead !" said the captain. " Hard-a-port ! So. Steady ! 
 I'll run till I can hear the breakers. There was only seven of 'em 
 yesterday. Now there must be a dozen !" 
 
 "A dozen what?" 
 
 " Blowers ! Quiet now and listen." 
 
 Through the slowly-moving hours the "Nellie" ploughed her way 
 onward in the thick darkness. The captain M-atched the compass 
 with sleepless vigilance, altering her course once or twice, but driven 
 inshore each time by the proximity of a vessel of the blockading 
 squadron. Once he was near enough to catch the glimmer of a light 
 
THE CHASE. 165 
 
 on the war-ship. AVhen the dawn appciired at last, all eyes were 
 intently scainiing the waste of waters, but, still shut in by a wall of 
 rain-drops, nothin*:; was visible. 
 
 " Breakers on the starl)oard bow !" sung out the sailor in the fore- 
 top, at a moment when there was a slight lull in the storm. 
 
 " Ave, ave, sir !" responded the captain. " Bear a hand there with 
 the lead! 'Ready?" 
 
 " Ave, aye, sir !" 
 
 " Then heave !" 
 
 There was a short interval of silence, except the crisp rattle of the 
 breakers, now audible to leeward. 
 
 " Over !" said the leadsman. 
 
 " Heave again ! Keep the lead going ! Look alive there !" 
 
 The captain consulted the compass, listened intently to the song 
 of the breakers, while he waited for the leadsman's report. It came 
 at last. 
 
 " Seven !" 
 
 "All right! Starboard! Steady! Keep her so, mate. Heave, 
 Tom !" 
 
 "Over!" said the leadsman. 
 
 " Thought so ! Come down, Mr. Barston, and git a cup of coffee. 
 I've smelt it nigh an hour. Call me, mate, if anvthing turns 
 up." 
 
 The two men, erect and vigourous, despite their anxious vigils, ate 
 like famished wolves. Barston's long nap had prepared him for the 
 subsequent wakefulness, and the captain appeared to be indifferent 
 to sleep. Hot coffee, about a gill in each pint cup, Avashing from 
 side to side as the ship rolled, ham and eggs, the latter delightfully 
 fresh, as they were only one day out, and corn bread walled in by 
 ship's biscuit. 
 
 " Appetite all the better for bad weather," said the captain, with 
 his mouth full. "You git ginuwine milk to-day, Mr. Barston. 
 Another cup of coffee?" 
 
 " I think I shall want six more, at least, captain," replied Barston. 
 "I have been nibbling at corn bread for six months, but have not 
 yet detected the difference between that and sawdust pudding. I'll 
 trouble you for a biscuit." 
 
 "Corn bread is first-class!" said the sailor; "but I remember 
 thinking blubber delightful eating when I was a whaler." 
 
 "Yes," replied the other. "Blubber is very fair diet when 
 cooked. I subsisted on it one dark winter." 
 
166 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 *' You ! Then you have been in high latitudes?" said the captain, 
 curiously. 
 
 " Somewhere in the seventies." 
 
 " I was caught one winter in the pack," said the captain, "and we 
 had scurvy bad. When the seals came and we got blubber, the 
 scurvy left us. That was in Smith's Sound." 
 
 " My adventures were on the opposite side of Hark !" 
 
 The report of a gun, and then a snappish report, as if from their 
 own deck. Both men scrambled up the stair in hot haste. 
 
 " Shell, by the Three Kings !" muttered Barston. " No mistake 
 about that snap !" 
 
 A large ship on the weather quarter bearing down on them, the 
 black smoke from her funnel extending towards the " Nellie" like 
 a long finger, pointing her out as predestined prey. Another puff 
 and roar, and the crackle of another shell exploding between the 
 vessels. 
 
 "Hoop!" said the captain, as he gained the deck, glancing at the 
 compass as he passed the binnacle. " Sou'east and by s;)Uth ! She'll 
 bear another point or two. Port a leetle ! So ! Now keep her 
 there. All hands make sail ! Mr. Barston, you know a rope when 
 you see it — give us a lift, please ! Cast the brails loose, there ! Are 
 your fingers all thumbs? Now, then, heave, yo ! A leetle more 
 sheet, mate; so! belay. And now for the foresail. Bear a hand, 
 boys ! Lively !" 
 
 A round shot now, striking the sea ahead, bounding upward in a 
 long curve and then plunging in the water. 
 
 " That means heave to !" observed the captain. " Thank'ee ! but 
 we haven't time ! Shake out the jib, mate. It will keep her steady 
 if it don't help much. Dern the blower ! He's shootin' again !" 
 
 This time it was a shell, bursting a quarter of a mile short of the 
 chase. Mr. Barston sat on the cabin skylight, and, striking a Vesu- 
 vius, lighted a cigar. 
 
 " No objection to smoking now, captain," he said, apologetically. 
 "Those fellows can see us anyhow, whether we smoke or not. 
 Come, take one." 
 
 "Thank'ee!" said the skipper. "Bimel)y I'll take one. Can't 
 cuss with a cigar in my mouth ! And I may have to do some fancy 
 cussin' before we git outen this mess. Ease the foresheet a trifle, 
 mate. Let's have all the wind we can get. Does he gain on us?" 
 
 " Not an inch." 
 
 " That's bully ! Hoop ! That's another shell ! Dern him I He 
 
THE CHASE. 167 
 
 is gittiii' tlic range! That was closer! Say, Mr. Barston, you're 
 no good uj) here; s'posie you go down in the cabin? Some of them 
 bits of old iron might kiniler scratch you." 
 
 " I'll follow you, captain." 
 
 " Foller ! But I can't go down jest yet. Do you understand the 
 game? It's all ])lain now. That l)lower chased us from Nassau to 
 Charleston, and blazed away at me jest as we hit the bar, goin' in. 
 I know him! And he has been steaming down the coast all night, 
 beauise he know'd I'd come out, and he thought he'd have me dead 
 sure. And he won't fire solid shot at us because he don't want to 
 sink us. lie wants the cotton. He has been shellin' Sumter for a 
 week, jest to get his hand in. Hoop! Look at that!" he continued, 
 as a fragment of shell fell on the deck. "Now I call that pooty 
 good shootin' ! Don't you want to go down ?" 
 
 " After you." 
 
 " Well, as I was sayin', my idee is that this blower intends to 
 have the 'Nellie' without hurtin' her. He don't mind shellin' iwf, 
 dern him ! He will keep us in sight if he can. If we have the best 
 legs, and git away, he'll make for Nassau. Then if he gits in range, 
 he'll sink us if he can." 
 
 " Suppose we surrender, captain ?" 
 
 " Surrender ! Forty thousand pound !" 
 
 " Forty-three thousand four hundred and eighty pounds, exactly," 
 replied Barston, consulting his pocket-book. "You may call it 
 forty-five thousand, as I intend to distribute the fifteen hundred and 
 twenty pounds among the officers and crew when the * Nellie' reaches 
 Liverpool ; that is, if she ever gets there." 
 
 " I guess our old supercargo is a kinder relation of yourn ?" said 
 the captain, eyeing Barston curiously. " I mean Mr. Miles." 
 
 " No. He is a gtillant gentleman, but not related to me." 
 
 " Well," said the captain, " he has the same sort of grit in him. 
 The rule is for supercargoes to keep outen danger, and I told him 
 so. But when we came in we had a little shootin', and he jest 
 loafed about the deck as if they was shootin' pop-guns ! Guess I'll 
 take that cigar now. Thank'ee ! Hoop ! it's a buster !" 
 
 " Cabaila." 
 
 " Aye, aye ! Well ! The supercargo come aboard three days ago, 
 and had his state-room scraped from truck to keel. Brought a lot of 
 new curtains and giracracks. New carpet for the floor. Then he 
 told me that we should have a lady passenger. My stars ! I was 
 nigh choked, holdin' in the cussin'. Wimraen on a blockade-run- 
 
168 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 ner ! So he told me it would be his wife. That laid me out, clean ! 
 But I met him next day on Meeting street, and he had her with 
 him. A stunner ! They was jest skimmin' along under easy sail 
 when I bore down on 'em. I s'pose he told her I was the skipper, 
 for she held out her little hand to me, sayin', ' Captain, I will be a 
 good sailor.' It Avas a gone case ! He came aboard in the after- 
 noon, and I told him we could not make any fight with wimmen 
 aboard. He said, ' If it comes to surrender or sink, I'll surrender. 
 But if a man's pluck will pull us through, the pluck will not be 
 Wanting in the lady.' And he looked jest as cool as a cucumber. 
 Say ! when he signed his papers he didn't write his name !" 
 
 " Yes. I think he did." 
 
 " No ! He didn't put any given name at all ! It was just ' Ring- 
 ford,' or su'thin' of that sort." 
 
 " He signed his patronymic. That is legal." 
 
 " Aye, aye !" said the captain, dubiously. " It's all right. The 
 counsel said so, and put the seal on. You English are a quare set, 
 anyway ! It's my belief that the young wild-cat jest came out here 
 after that gal ! And it's my belief that you had no idee of buyin' 
 this ship two days ago ! You jest saw she was tidy, and walked off 
 singin'." 
 
 " My dear captain," replied the other, " I resolved to buy this 
 ship as soon as you told me her name. I suggested the propriety 
 of surrendering because these men are exposed to danger and 
 death. Do you suppose I would kill a man for a few thousand 
 pounds ?" 
 
 "Say, mate !" said the captain, "call all hands aft. Every lubber ! 
 I have a word or two to say. Now, men ! this gentleman here is 
 owner and supercargo. You see that fellow shootin' off here to 
 windward? Well, Mr. Barston feels uneasy like. He don't want 
 to expose your precious lives. So he says let's heave to and give 
 up. What do you say ?" 
 
 The men looked from the captain to the placid countenance of 
 Mr. Barston, who was blowing little smoke-rings to leeward. 
 
 " Why don't you speak? Pat Rielly ! You gin'rally have your 
 jawin' tacks aboard. Speak out !" 
 
 •' Sure, cap'n," said Mr. Ilielly, " we might as well wait till some- 
 body is hurted ! An' we might put a little more stame on " 
 
 " What do you know about steam, you lubber ?" said the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " The ' Nellie' is not doin' her best licks, sir !" 
 
THE CEASE. 1G9 
 
 "Well, Mr. Barston says if we do git clear of these blowers, and 
 land in Liverpool, he has fifteen hundred pounds to divide up among 
 vou 
 
 A cheer that drowned the roar of the frigate's gun interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " Git out, you noisy hounds !" said the captain. " I guess we'll 
 run a spell longer. Tumble forrard there! You see how it is, 
 Mr. Bai-ston. That Irish whelp was quite c'rect. The 'Nellie' 
 aint doin' nigh her best! I am keepin' her jest this far off until 
 dark, and have got all sails set, jest to fool them fellows ! As soon 
 as it is dark, I intend to i>nt on speed and steam straight out across 
 that frigate's bows! And I intend to give Nassau a wide berth,- and 
 try for Kingston, Jamaiky. We can git coals and clearance there. 
 What do you say, sir?" 
 
 " Your plan has my hearty approval, captain," replied the owner ; 
 '• but can't you widen the distance a little before dark ?" 
 
 " Wouldn't be safe ! Daren't make a knot more than we're doin'. 
 If the Irigate found we were slipping away, we should have solid 
 shot cavortin' round here quite lively. Bless you ! she has rifled 
 cannon; and would knock us into a wreck in an hour. Noiv, she 
 wants to capture, and don't want to sink us. And by this time to- 
 morrow she'll he cussin' herself outen her boots because she didn't 
 sink us to-day ! Bim ! That shell busted a quarter of a mile off! 
 Mate ! slow her down a bit more. Port a little ! So. steady ! You 
 see I'm runnin' inshore. The wind is fiiUing, mebbe we may git a 
 foor before nisht ! Let's take a look at the barometer. Mate ! set 
 the lead agroin' arain ! We are crawlin' in on the coast.' 
 
 The captain's hope was fulfilled within an hour. The frigate 
 melted out of sight in the fog that settled down upon the sea. At 
 the first announcement of soundings from the leadsman the steamer's 
 prow was once more turned to the east, the sails all furled, and under 
 a full head of steam she ploughed her way over the billows. 
 njOn the following day the sun dispelled the mist, and the "Nellie" 
 had a perfectly clear horizon. One day later, she was within the 
 tropics. On Sunday morning Mr. Barston presented his papers to 
 the official in the harbour of Kingston. All risks were now over, 
 except the " dangers of the seas." A new supply of coals was taken 
 aboard, and the captain informed Mr. Barston of his readiness to 
 sail at noon on Monday. 
 
 " Then I bid you ' bon voyage,' captain," said Mr. Barston. " Here 
 are your papers. The ship is consigned to Herrick and Co., Liver- 
 
170 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 pool, who are instructed to disburse the fifteen liundred and twenty 
 pounds as you may advise, in such proportions " 
 
 " Share and share alike !" said the captain, promptly. " There 
 was fifteen shells shot at us. That's a hundred pound a shell, and 
 every man took his share of the splinters." 
 
 " You are right !" replied Mr. Barston, admiringly. " I am going 
 to Porto Rico and then to Havana, and then to England. Good- 
 bye !" 
 
 AVith which salutation this gentleman retires from the present 
 narrative. The reader will regret this the less, as his story is told 
 elsewhere. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Across Channel. 
 
 '^EBA marched steadfastly onward, his face turned to the setting 
 ^-^ sun. At one of the villages through which he passed he 
 invested fifteen shillings in a second-hand camlet cloak, that was 
 about fifty years behind the fashion and six months ahead of the 
 season. But he missed the sun of India, and the cloak concealed 
 his tulwar, which attracted attention wherever he went. 
 
 There was something sublime about the patient confidence of the 
 man. He was searching for Sahib Rayneford, with no clue except 
 the point of his sword. He knew nothing about the appearance of 
 the missing man, except the vague ideas gathered from the picture 
 of the late Lady Rayneford ; yet he studied the visages of the men 
 he met in his wanderings with untiring vigilance. He listened to 
 all the conversations in tap-rooms, and at other places where he 
 rested and took his frugal meals, expecting to catch some hint that 
 would reveal to him the possible whereabouts of the lost noble. He 
 asked no questions, relying with unflinching faith upon the revej^- 
 tions of his weapon. He felt no disappointment or impatience, as 
 day after day passed, bringing no tokens of success, until his progress 
 was arrested by the waters of Bristol Channel. 
 
 It was at the town of Ilfracombe, and the dim, blue line of the 
 AVelsh coast was visible across the water. Zeba spent a day here, 
 stalking through the town, and furtively scrutinising the faces he 
 encountered. He had been deflected from his rigid course by the 
 curves in the road, and by the crests of high hills, and had travelled 
 
ACROSS CHANNEL. 171 
 
 rather more towards the ;south tliaii he tlesired or inteiKled. But he 
 oonsultetl his map, and IbniKl that he had omitted no village or town 
 between llawklev and his j)resent resting-place, lie had kept the 
 line ot" march with commendable accuracy, and as there was no limit 
 indicated, lie had only to pursue the same inflexible line until some 
 insurmountable obstacle opposed his progress. At j)rcsent there was 
 nothing in the way except the salt waves of the Channel. 
 
 While he meditated in a corner of the travellers'-room at the 
 Anchor Inn, his attention was attracted by some words spoken at a 
 table near his own. 
 
 "^lilford Haven. Going in an hour. Only waiting for the 
 tide." 
 
 The speaker was a seafaring man, evidently. A coat made of 
 yellow canvas, oiled and water-proof, a sou'wester hat of the same 
 material, the long flap hanging down his back. There had been a 
 little shower, and these garments, being wet, looked as though they 
 had been newly varnished. A long black beard, slightly grizzled, 
 covered his mouth and chin, and was at this moment flecked with 
 foam Ciuight from the pewter mug in his horny hand. Zeba saw all 
 this at his first glance, which confirmed his recognition of the deaf 
 mate of the " Bengal," Mr. Jones. The gruff tones of his voice had 
 already revealed his identity to the watchful Hindoo. 
 
 The other man was busily writing on Mr. Jones's slate. He was 
 a wiry-looking fellow, with scanty red hair, red eyes, restless and 
 suspicious, darting sharp glances all around the room. He pushed 
 the slate across the little table when he finished his inscription. The 
 sailor read it rapidly. 
 
 " Heard there was a tidy fishing-boat here, and came over to buy 
 her. Came in a tug, bound for Bristol. Xow^ I am going back in 
 my own boat. Bought her. But she is in the mud at high- water 
 mark. Am waiting for the tide to lift her." And he brushed his 
 wet sleeve over the slate, pushed it back to his companion, and put 
 some more froth on his beard. The red-haired man wrote a line or 
 two, and again presented the slate. 
 
 " Manage the boat easy enough. Jib-sheets trailed aft. D'ye 
 want to cross? Will tid<e you over in two or three hours. Good 
 moon and wind stiddy." 
 
 The red-eyed man shuddered visibly at the suggestion. Evidently 
 he did not take kindly to the sea. He wrote again, after glancing 
 restlessly around, and gave back the slate. The mate read and 
 pondered, while he erased the writing as before. 
 
172 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Don't know what business that is of yours," he growled, at last. 
 " I may know a Mr. Rayneford and I may not. Don't know any 
 hereaway." 
 
 Zeba pulled the cape of his cloak over his face, and, supporting 
 his head with his hand, fell into profound slumber. His table Mas 
 near that of the sailor, and he could hear the grating of the pencil 
 in his dreams as the red-eyed man wrote. Presently Mr. Jones 
 spoke again. 
 
 " Seems to me," he said, slowly, " I have heard the name. Can't 
 remember whether it was in England or in some furrin port. Let 
 me see! Didn't he live over here in Somerset? Aye, aye! 
 Thought so ! What do you want ?" 
 
 Another scratch on the slate. 
 
 " Aye, aye ! Something to his advantage. Well, the Rayneford 
 I know is A one, full-rigged and copper-fastened ! Hails from Som- 
 erset. Does that fill your bill ? Well, I might have seen him a 
 week ago — say ten days ago. That was off Eddystone Light. 
 Heard from him since. He was at Taunton then. That's all I 
 know. Here, Mary, my dear ! bring us another mug. What is 
 the advantage? Fortin' left him?" 
 
 Zeba dreamed he heard the bar-maid's skirts rustle as she whisked 
 by him, and the clank of the mug which she placed before Mr. 
 Jones. Mingled with these sounds there was the scratching of the 
 pencil. 
 
 " Coaster ?" grunted the sailor. " Well, you may call it a coaster 
 if you like ! It coasted from the Cape of Good Hope to London ! 
 Mr. Rayneford was a passenger, and he left the ship at Plymouth. 
 He went to Taunton. What for? Dunno, unless it was for rum ! 
 I know he got some rum there ! And that's all I know. Mary, 
 my dear! Here is my shilling. Fourpence change ? Keep it, my 
 dear. I'll take another turn in your long street. Tide must be nigh 
 flood by this time." 
 
 The banging of the fly-door as the sailor rolled out aroused the 
 slumbering Hindoo, who arose, and, walking lightly as a cat, also 
 passed out. The man with ferret eyes was busily jotting in his mem- 
 orandum-book the valuable information obtained from Mr. Jones. 
 
 There is a half-mile of pier at Ilfracombe. The yellow coat and 
 sou'wester made the sailor conspicuous, as he tramped along the 
 street and out on the long pier. The dark cloak and noiseless step 
 of Zeba made him look like a shadow flitting behind him. Half- 
 way out, the mate scrambled down on the shingle, meeting a man 
 
ACIiOSS CHANNEL. 173 
 
 who arose from the bows of a large fishing-boat as he approached. 
 The stern of the boat nv.ls rising and falling as the tide rolled in. 
 Zeba squatted down on the edge of the pier and watched. 
 
 " Aye, aye !" said Mr. Jones, " almost afloat. Can push her off in 
 ten minutes more. Here is your 'arf-crown. Don't want you any 
 longer. I can h'ist the sail here in the lee of the pier. Good night I" 
 
 The man walked along the white shingle, the moon painting out 
 his black sluulow as he crept onward towards the town. The mate 
 took the seat he iiad vacated, and lighted liis pipe. Zeba, crouching 
 on the pier above, patiently waited. 
 
 Knocking the ashes out of his pipe, Mr. Jones got into the boat 
 and hoisted the sail. The pier broke the force of the southeast 
 wind, and the sail swayed gently back and forth, the boom playing 
 over the gunwales. Mr. Jones fumbled with the sheet, but at last 
 got it secured. He shipped' the tiller, drawing the larboard sheet 
 taut, and securing it with two half-hitches over a cleat in the stern. 
 When he stepped out on the shingle, prepared to push the boat off, 
 Zeba stood by his side. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" bawled the Hindoo. 
 
 "Hillo!" responded the mate, startled. "Where the devil did 
 you come from ?" 
 
 " Taunton," said Zeba, giving the name of the largest town he 
 had seen on English soil. The mate held out his slate, and Zeba 
 wrote the name with his left hand. 
 
 "Aye, aye! And whither bound, shipmate?" 
 
 " Milford. Sahib take me in his little ship?" This in a scream. 
 
 " Hum ! S'pose I am going up channel ?" 
 
 " But sahib said he was going to Milford," screamed the Indian ; 
 " don't know up channel. Can put up sail, put down sail. What- 
 ever sahib say." 
 
 " Get aboard !" said Mr. Jones, after a moment's reflection. " Take 
 the tiller, and when I push off put it hard a-port. D'ye under- 
 stand ?" 
 
 "Yes, sahib," answered Zeba, promptly; "learned all that at 
 Cape. Need not push off. If sahib come astern, ship float off." 
 He wrote the last words on the sailor's slate. 
 
 " Good, hard sense in the nigger's head," muttered Mr. Jones. 
 "I'll see what he can do. Take the main-sheet, blackie," he con- 
 tinued, aloud, "and let us see how you manoeuvre the barky. Not 
 much risk in the lee of the pier, anyway." 
 
 In addition to the two mutrs which Zeba had seen the sailor im- 
 
174 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 bibe, he had taken sundry mugs during the afternoon, and while he 
 was perfectly able to navigate, he was still in a muddled condition. 
 The boat floated off according to Zeba's prediction, and deftly passing 
 the main-sheet around his knee, he seized the tiller and steered boldly 
 out from the pier. The mate watched him closely. 
 
 " Pretty well for a man with one arm !" he ejaculated. " If he 
 don't lose his head when we strike open water, I'm blest if I don't 
 take a nap !" 
 
 The boat glided onward, sheltered by the pier, in comparatively 
 smooth water. As she emerged from this covering the sail swelled 
 out, the little vessel bent gently over, and the tug of the sheet on 
 Zeba's knee was tremendous. Slipping forward in his seat, he placed 
 iiis back against the head of the tiller, and then, with his liberated 
 hand, he loosened the sheet, letting the sail swing freely out, clutch- 
 ing the helm again as soon as this was accomplished. The boat 
 raced out into the Channel with accelerated speed. 
 
 " Good again !" said Mr. Jones. " Sails like a witch ! Wind 
 stiddy. D'ye see those two stars, blackie ?" 
 
 Zeba nodded. 
 
 " Can you steer right between them ?" 
 
 Zeba drew the tiller to windward, the boat fell off a point or two, 
 then settled down to the course indicated. 
 
 " You'll get promoted mate !" said Mr. Jones. " I name you able 
 seaman now. Keep them stars where they are, and wake me when 
 you see the light. Or if anything goes wrong, shake me up. Roll 
 over against me, kick, tramp on my feet, anything ! D'ye under- 
 stand ?" 
 
 Zeba nodded. 
 
 "Only want five minutes," observed the sailor, apologetically; 
 " must have eaten some stuff that disagrees with me !" 
 
 The five minutes grew into an hour, the boat bounding over the 
 short waves of the Channel. The breathing of the sailor deepened 
 into a pronounced snore. Zeba, keeping vigilant watch upon the 
 stars, chanted a Hindoo war-song, with a monotonous wail for the 
 refrain, which was really a glorification of the invincible tulwar. 
 In the midst of one of these quavering stanzas he put the helm 
 down, bringing the boat head to wind, to wait for the passage of a 
 schooner passing down Channel. The altered motion of the boat 
 wakened Mr. Jones. Zeba was informing the mermaids of the 
 Channel that the warrior's tulwar was like the resistless flow^ of the 
 Ganges, in tones loud enough to be heard by them forty fathoms 
 
ACROSS CHANNEL. 175 
 
 below the surface. ^Ir. Jones was rubbing his eyes as the schooner 
 glided bv,*and the Hindoo's last words were echoed from the stern 
 of the vessel with startling accuracy, and in a key a full octave 
 above his own voice. At the same instant the transoms in the 
 schooner's stern closed with a clash. 
 
 "Running a little too close, mate !" said Mr. Jones, taking the 
 tiller and drawing in the main-sheet. The boat fell off, pointing 
 once more to the double stars. "Now if it had not been bright 
 moonlight that fellow might have run us down. He is going his 
 best. Both tiiw'sails, jib and flying-jib. How long have we been 
 running? Nigh an hour, I fancy. If that isn't Nord's Head I'm 
 a Dutchman ! Milford Haven five miles off, right under the lee- 
 bow. Well steered, mate !" 
 
 Zeba relinquished the helm and coiled himself up between thwarts, 
 staring at the departing schooner as the boom lifted with the roll 
 of the boat. All was quiet on board, and nothing visible except 
 the twinkling light at the head of the foremast. The keen vision 
 of the Hindoo availed nothing, and the schooner gradually melted 
 out of sight to seaward. 
 
 Mr. Jones very soon recovered the full use of his faculties, and 
 the " Ripple" bounced over the waves in gallant style under his 
 guidance. When they doubled the point at the entrance of the har- 
 bour a steamer passed them, and her passengers were going ashore 
 as the " Ripple" glided into the narrow dock above the landing. 
 The sailor lowered the jib and mainsail, securing them with skilful 
 fingers, while Zeba stood on the dock watching him. 
 
 " All snug alow and aloft," said the mate, as he stepped ashore 
 with the anchor-chain in his hand. He passed the end of the chain 
 through an iron ring on the dock, drew the links together, fastened 
 them with a padlock, and dropped the key into the pocket of his 
 oilskin coat. 
 
 He stood regarding the Indian a few moments, as if in doubt 
 about the relations subsisting between them. Zeba endured the 
 scrutiny with stoical patience. 
 
 " Know anybody in Milford ?" he asked, at length. Zeba shook 
 his head. There were two or three boys on the dock, conversing in 
 the language of the bards, and the Hindoo listened with wonder at 
 the unwonted sounds. 
 
 " Better come with me," said Mr. Jones. " I can give you a 
 shake-<lown to-night, and to-morrow we'll go fishing." 
 
 As they moved up the pier they passed the covered entrance to 
 
 .. _ A 
 
176 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 the steamboat landing. The few passengers were straggling out of 
 the building, and Zeba touched the arm of his companion and pointed 
 out one of the new-comers a few steps in advance of them. The 
 sailor looked in the indicated direction and caught a furtive glance 
 out of ferret eyes thrown back at them and instantly averted. 
 
 " Aye, aye !" said Mr. Jones, in a hoarse whisper, " he is looking 
 after me. I don't owe him anything, as I knows on. Anyway, 
 we'll fool him a bit. Keep close and follow me." 
 
 Down through a blind alley, which the mate traversed rapidly, 
 knowing every inch of the way; then emerging in a lighted street, 
 and pausing at a shop window ; then back again, through the alley, 
 to the pier, and to the dock where the " Ripple" was secured. The 
 boys were still there, and ]Mr. Jones addressed them in Welsh, ad- 
 vising them to retire to their respective couches, as the night waned. 
 Zeba drew the corner of his cloak over his face to avert the storm of 
 objurgation which he supposed the unknown accents conveyed. As 
 the juveniles withdrew the sailor seated himself on a beam, drew 
 forth his pipe and indulged in a quiet smoke. All this time the 
 red-eyed man kept them in view, dodging into the shadow whenever 
 possible, and keeping a respectful distance. When the pipe was out 
 Mr. Jones arose, and, taking Zeba's arm, walked soberly into a public 
 house at the town-end of the pier. It was a house frequented ex- 
 clusively by natives, and the harsh intonations of the Anglo-Saxon 
 tongue were apparently unknown within its walls. The mate or- 
 dered bread and cheese, while he watched the efforts of his quondam 
 companion at Ilfracombe to make his wants known. At last the 
 red-eyed man departed in disgust, and after one moderate libation, 
 and one immoderate fit of laughter, the sailor and his guest departed 
 also. The coast was clear, and a short walk brought the two to Mr. 
 Jones's lodgings. 
 
 " To-morrow," said the host, as Zeba stretched himself on a cot 
 that stood in a corner — " to-morrow, if wind and weather serve, 
 we'll try the fish. You're welcome ! Good night !" 
 
 Kicking off his boots, divesting himself of oilskin coat and hat, 
 he rolled himself into a similar cot, laughing solus at the memory of 
 the discomfited ferret, who was at the same moment noting down 
 the number of his house and the name of the street by the waning 
 moonlight. 
 
FISHING. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Fishing. 
 
 MR. JONES occupied a modest cottage near the pier. He had 
 a tenant on the second floor, who engaged to keep a general 
 supervision over the premises in consideration of a moderate rent, 
 and who was expected to see the outer tloors locked at night, in case 
 the hindlord should not be in condition iiimself to attend to that 
 dutv. On the morning after the cruise of the " Ripple," the cx-mate 
 slept late, and the tenant, Mr. Flillen, was the sole witness of Zeba's 
 extraordinary antics in the back yard. 
 
 There was something unusual in the ceremony on this occasion. 
 The Hindoo was without clothing excepting a pair of short drawers, 
 covering his brown body from the waist to his hips. He was 
 dancing around a stunted tree that stood in the middle of the narrow 
 yard, whirling his tulwar in all directions, tossing and catching it as 
 it descended, sometimes on one side of the tree and sometimes on the 
 other. At last he suspended the blade from a branch by a cord, 
 twirling it violently as he quitted the hilt. 
 
 " Beebe !" he said, squatting on his haunches, while the sword 
 gyrated, sparkling in the morning sun. 
 
 When the revohitions ceased, he took a boat-hook that stood in a 
 corner of the enclosure and stuck it in the ground, after sighting 
 along tiie blade. The point of the weapon was towards the west, 
 and the Indian spread his chart out on the ground, beside the com- 
 pass. Apparently satisfied with his test, he took the blade from the 
 tree, and carefully wiped it with a handful of leaves. He held it 
 up, pointing to the sun, and chanted the ode of the previous night, 
 apparently assuring tlie great luminary that the tulwar in the hand 
 of its lord was like the rush of waters in the great cataract of the 
 sacred river. Then he cast the sword upward, caught it in descent, 
 hung it on the branch again, and caused it to gyrate as before. 
 
 " Sahib !" 
 
 The motion cea'^cd at last, the sword pointing a little south of 
 east. Once more the Hindoo ascertained the direction, sighting 
 along the blade, then removing the boat-hook, which he stuck up 
 behind the hilt, and again consulted his chart and compass. Mr. 
 Jones touched him on the shoulder, curiously inspecting the stump 
 of his lost arm while he was thus eno-affcd. Zeba arose and bowed 
 courteously to his host. Then, with his slender finger, he pointed 
 
 12 
 
178 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 to a spot on the chart. The sailor glanced at it, his practised eye 
 recognising the coast lines on the instant. 
 
 " Linton Sands," said Mr. Jones. " There is where we will fish 
 to-day." 
 
 " Ready," wrote Zeba, on the deaf man's slate. 
 
 '* Better get some toggery on first," observed his host ; " people 
 will think I have canght a one-armed gorilla if I take you through 
 the streets in that fashion. Besides, we want grub. Come in the 
 house and we will get up some breakfast." 
 
 The " Ripple" danced out of her miniature dock at nine o'clock. 
 Mr. Jones skipper, Zeba crew. A trim schooner lay in the stream, 
 just off the entrance to the dock. As they passed under her stern 
 Zeba read the name, "Juliet." Mr. Jones ran a critical eye over 
 vessel and rigging. 
 
 " Some swell's yacht," he said. " About eighty tons, I fancy. 
 Very good little craft for smooth waters. Masts rake too much, and 
 too lofty for the hull. Well found, no doubt, in gimcracks. No 
 better than the 'Ripple' in a gale ! Came down from Cardiff yes- 
 terday, ready for a cruise. Wanted me to sail her. Dock-master 
 asked rae yesterday. But I am too old to be swore at by a land- 
 lubber ! Rather go fishing with you, blackie !" 
 
 Out past the light-house, and on the open Channel. The weather 
 was fine, but the long swell coming in from the Atlantic tossed the 
 fishing-boat about rather more than Zeba approved. He crouched 
 down in the stern sheets, while the skipper " manoovered" the 
 vessel, examining his compass occasionally, and keeping his sharp 
 eye on a spot of white water dead ahead. Beyond this, the top of 
 a light-house stood out against the clear sky. 
 
 " Yonder is Linton Sands," observed Mr. Jones ; " it was a bad 
 bit of navigation in ray young days. But government has built the 
 light-house since I went to Calcutta, and now it is safe enough. It 
 is only the craft from Bristol that need the light. I know all the 
 ins and outs of them sands. Good anchorage in forty places, and 
 good fishing. We must keep a good south offing until the light-house 
 lines with the mountain there on the mainland. Then run in." 
 
 A stone building of one story connected with the tower, standing 
 on a ridge of rocks not much above the surface. Then little sand 
 islands, a score of them, spreading out towards the Welsh coast, 
 the waves breaking over the most of them, and thus making thou- 
 sands of acres of white water. No signs of vegetation anywhere. 
 Close by the light-house, a rocky island of small extent, and a 
 
FISHING. 179 
 
 narrow channel of still water. Into this channel the " Ripple" glided, 
 and, obedient to a sign from the skipper, Zeba (Iroi)ped the anchor. 
 The sails were fnrled, and the two were speedily endejivonring to 
 entice the fish to nibble at the bait. A man came out of the tower, 
 letting himself down by an iron ladder bolted to the structure, and 
 walked down to the verge of the rock. 
 
 "Hillo, dad!" said the man. 
 
 " Ilillo, Tom !" answered ^Ir. Jones. 
 
 " A\'liat have you got aboard, dad ?" bawled the other. 
 
 "Injin. Passenger in the * Bengal.' Found him last night at 
 Ilfraeombe. How do you like the barky ?" 
 
 " She'll do. Mast stepped too much forward. Can't bawl. 
 Come ashore when you're ready." 
 
 " Aye, aye !" responded the elder ; " got a bite now." The son, 
 who carried an oil-can, disappeared in the low building, and pres- 
 ently returned and rcclimbed into the tower, having replenished his 
 can. In a few minutes his head was projected over the grating that 
 surrounded the lantern. 
 
 " Dad !" he screamed, drowning the rush of the breakers that 
 washed the base of the tower — " dad ! did you see a yacht at Mil- 
 ford?" 
 
 "Aye, aye!" replied Mr. Jones — "an eighty tonner; schooner 
 rigged ; masts rake like blazes." 
 
 "Good!" said the younger, withdrawing his head. 
 
 Zeba had taken in all the surroundings by this time. The low 
 ledge of rocks that lay south of the light-house served as a break- 
 water. Xo storm that came from the west or south would be likely 
 to damage the building. On the north and east the sandy islets 
 afforded similar protection. There were times when all the area of 
 Linton Sands was covered with foaming breakers. In such a time, 
 the one secure anchorage was the very spot where the "Ripple" now 
 rode on the gentle swell ; and even there, no craft whose hull rose 
 above the rocky barriers on either side could live a mornent. On 
 the northwest the building stood on the edge of the rock, presenting 
 only blank walls of cemented stone, and the storms of four or five 
 winters had beaten against this wall, producing no impression. The 
 water was shoal all around the light-house, and at low tide the sea 
 broke three or four hundred yards to the westward. At present it 
 was high water, and the waves foamed and frothed at the founda- 
 tions of the round tower. 
 
 Zeba had taken in all this. lie had also taken in an accurate 
 
180 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 estimate of the character of Tom Jones, Junior, and his estimate 
 was not flattering. Something in the tones of his voice; something 
 in the sharp, suspicious glance of his eye ; something in the furtive 
 scrutiny of the Indian's placid face; something in his slouching gait 
 as he passed from tower to house and back again — all of these tokens 
 Zeba rapidly translated into choice Hindoostanee, and the phrase they 
 made was equivalent to "rascal" in English. 
 
 When the son came back to the water-side he beckoned his father 
 ashore. The elder tossed a line to his son, who drew the stern of 
 the " Ripple" near enough for his progenitor to step on the rock. 
 The boat swung back again with Zeba still aboard, and father and 
 son entered the low building. Zeba continued his piscatorial occu- 
 pation. 
 
 Sitting in the bow of the " Ripple," the Hindoo had a view of the 
 dwelling. There were three windows and a door. The window 
 next the tower was curtained, but both sashes — for all the windows 
 were furnished with double sashes — were up. The curtain waved 
 in the breeze, giving occasional glimpses of the interior. The rest- 
 less eye of the Indian moved over the entire building. "While he 
 watched, a woman came out, went to a M'ater-cask that was bolted 
 down to the rock, and filled a pitcher with water. Presently Zeba 
 heard the clink of glasses, and he inferred that father and son were 
 indulging in a libation. Then the curtain blew aside under a puff 
 of wind a little stronger than usual, and he saw the head and shoul- 
 ders of a woman, apparently reclining on a couch near the window. 
 Then he began to chant in Hindoostanee. The reader will probably 
 prefer an English version of his poem. 
 
 " Let the lips of Beebe be sealed I 
 One watMies and sleeps not. 
 The bite of the cobra is death ; 
 But the stroke of the tulwar is swift, 
 And the Lord of the tulwar " 
 
 " Hillo, blackie !" said Mr. Jones, issuing from the door, followed 
 by his son. " What are you howling about ?" 
 
 " Don't want any more of that infernal gibberish !" added the 
 younger Jones. 
 
 Zeba half rose and bowed. 
 
 " Singing to the fishes, sahib," he said, deprecatingly. 
 
 " Never mind the fishes !" growled Jones, Junior. " Time you 
 were going, dad, if you want this tide." This sentence was a howl 
 that shamed Zeba's efforts. 
 
FISHING. 181 
 
 "Going to try t lie South SiiikIs," answered his father; "always 
 had luck there. Give us the boat-hook, blackie. So! Hold on, 
 Tom, till I <jot aboard. Wind souVast. We will pole throM;:;h this 
 channel, mate, and up sail when clear of the sands. Up anchor! 
 By-bye, Tom !" 
 
 As the boat glided away from the rock, Zeba caught a glimpse of 
 tlie face at the window through a rift in the curtiiin. He threw 
 back the cloak from iiis shoulder and tapped the hilt of his weapon, 
 and the face disajipeared. The bulky body of the ex-mate Avas be- 
 tween Zeba and his son, and this bit of pantomime was invisible to 
 both of them. 
 
 " Not many men would venture through this channel," said Mr. 
 Jones, as he poled the boat along ; " but it is safe enough at high 
 water. All these bits of rock are old landmarks for me. I've 
 known — that is — I've heard of smugglers running their kegs through 
 this channel, when the coast-guard boats were rocking on the sea 
 beyond the big ledge yonder. That was before the light-house was 
 built. They call this ' Brandy Channel,' because so many kegs have 
 gone through it. Out there by the double rocks — they're called The 
 Twins — there was a big ship wrecked, twenty years ago. She was 
 a West Injy liner bound for Bristol, and got blowed up here on the 
 sands. All hands lost. It was a big storm. Some of us got a 
 cask or two of rum when she broke up. That was the first time I 
 learnt what real Jamaiky was! And your gov'uor sent me some 
 prime stuff' from Taunton t'other day ! Keep to starboard now, till 
 you are clear of white water. Once get The Twins fairly astern and 
 we will get the sail up. S'pose you put that oar out on the port 
 bow? Can you pull with one arm?" 
 
 Zeba answered by thrusting the oar out and rowing against the 
 larboard stay. 
 
 " Aye, aye !" said ]\Ir. Jones. " You manoover pretty well ! I'll 
 steer against you a minute or two and then get up the jib. Don't 
 you see the line of deep water in our wake? In two hours it will 
 be all breakers. That is the reason we — I mean the smugglers — 
 could run in a cargo under the noses of the coast-guard. They did 
 not think of looking in Linton Sands, where a dozen boats could 
 ride safely in good weather, and when the tide was young ebb they 
 could slip through Brandy Channel and make shoal water on the 
 coast. Now come aft and take the tiller, and we will get up some 
 canvas." 
 
 The " Hippie" had to tack once and again before she could get a 
 
182 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "straight slant" for harbour, and it was high noon when Mr. Jones 
 made fast at the dock in Milford. There were sundry casks and 
 bales on the pier, and Zeba's watchful eye caught sight of the red- 
 eyed man, who was peering at them from behind a pile of bales. 
 He announced his discovery to the ex-mate, writing on his slate : 
 
 " Red-eye peep from water-side." 
 
 Mr. Jones carried the product of his morning's sport, which 
 consisted of two soles. He walked soberly away from the dock, 
 meditatins;. AVhen he turned the corner he growled out a hoarse 
 whisper. 
 
 "Lubber hove in sight?" 
 
 Zeba fflanced backward. The coast was clear. Another turn 
 brought them to Mr. Jones's residence, and they entered unseen. 
 
 "Now, then !" said the host, hanging his yellow coat and hat on 
 pegs behind the door ; " some deviltry is afoot, blackie ? What's 
 to be done ?" 
 
 Zeba took the pencil and wrote : 
 
 " Red-eye watch us. I go watch red-eye." 
 
 "Good !" ejaculated Mr. Jones. "I'll cook the fish. If you can 
 worrit the lubber, all right. If you can make excuse, punch his 
 head. Blast his eyes !" 
 
 Zeba adjusted his cloak, and, after a cautious scrutiny of the street, 
 left the hospitable mansion of Mr. Jones, who was already preparing 
 the fish for the frying-pan. The Hindoo went quickly back to the 
 dock, walked around and among the packages of merchandise, but 
 the watcher had disappeared. He walked up the pier, and reaching 
 the landing-place of a steamer, saw the object of his search on board 
 the vessel, intently studying a paper which he held close to his 
 purblind eyes. 
 
 " Where ship go ?" said the Indian, addressing a sailor, who was 
 tugging at the gang-plank. 
 
 " Bristol," was the reply ; " get aboard if you're going. Cast 
 hoff!" 
 
 And one minute later Zeba was steaming down the harbour. 
 He obtained a second-class ticket, and finding a sunny spot in 
 the fore-castle, coiled himself up behind the windla&s and went to 
 sleep. 
 
 He was shaken up once by the official who was collecting fares 
 and tickets, but like a true philosopher went to sleep again imme- 
 diately. He had no definite plan, but the tulwar had indicated this 
 exact direction in his morning incantations, and he was content to 
 
AT BATH. 
 
 183 
 
 pursue it. On the va^sol nothing oouUl be done, so he slept on 
 until he was wakened by the stopping of the nuiclunery. 
 
 ''What town?" he asked. ., , , , . i . 
 
 " Cuntbrd, stoopid !" answered the same sailor he had accosted at 
 stiirtin'^- " You don't seem to know where you are going. Forriner, 
 belike" Aye, aye! Well, this is six miles from Clifton. We wait 
 liere an hour for the tide. If you choose you can take the rail here, 
 and you will beat us into Bristol about two hours. There goes a 
 
 cove ashore now." . ... 
 
 It was the red-eyed man. Zeba followed, keeping him in view, 
 until he disapp&ired in a second-class railway carriage. The Hindoo 
 bovight a third-cia-ss ticket for Cliftou, and took his seat in the same 
 
 *' Meantime, Mr. Jones fried the soles. Zeba did not return, so the 
 mariner ate them both. And as the day waned and the Indian still 
 tarried, Mr. Jones sought consolation in the demijohn of " first-class 
 rum from Taunton." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 At Bath. 
 
 THIS veracious history began by recounting in the initial chapter 
 certain adventures of a strolling photographer, who had taken 
 a picture, witnessed an abduction, and then suddenly retired from 
 the scene with no satisfactory explanation. He obtained a cab, was 
 driven to Bristol, and taking the train there, arrived in Bath quite 
 early in the evening. 
 
 He pulled his felt hat down upon his brows, and stood a moment 
 at the station watching the pas.sengers. One of them is a lady 
 wearincr a straw hat adorned with a scarlet flower on one side. A 
 gentleman meets her, and greets her with eager questions. The 
 photographer is near enough to hear her murmur in musical accents: 
 " All successful. How came you here ?" 
 
 Then they pass out of the station, and he follows. Down George 
 street to the corner. The lady enters the corner house. The gen- 
 tleman goes hastily back to the station. So the picture-maker follows 
 him and sees him enter an up-train, after getting a ticket lor Bristol. 
 Presently the train moves out, and the photographer runs against an 
 unoffending citizen, because his head is turned towards the departing 
 
184 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 train, while his feet are walking the other way. He apologises 
 promptly. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Robinson !" said the citizen. 
 
 " Mr. Holly !" 
 
 "De-lighted to see you again, sir ! This is prime luck ! I know 
 you'll be kind and come with me. Nanny is just dying to see you." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Holly, I " 
 
 " Now don't say another word, sir. It's only a step, and I won't 
 detain you a minute. We've talked about nothing else but you, sir, 
 since I got home last night. I s'pose you haven't taken that picture 
 yet " 
 
 " By this light I have, though !" said the other, startled. " Do 
 you know I had entirely forgotten your warning until this moment? 
 And I have the picture in my pocket. Come, I will go with you 
 and show it. I took two or three more from the same negative, and 
 have left them at Clifton. Tommy took me directly to Mrs. Noils's, 
 and he is there now. Is this your house ?" 
 
 A comely young woman, with a wholesome English face, opened 
 the door, and Mr. Holly kissed her without asking leave. 
 
 "This is him, Nanny," he said, ungrammatically; "stumbled 
 against him at the station, and he Avas good enough to come with me. 
 Mr. Robinson, Nan ; my wife, sir. Come in, sir. Take this chair. 
 Tommy is all right. Nan. He has got the best master in England." 
 
 " I said to Tim to-day, sir," said Mrs. Holly, shaking ]Mr. Rob- 
 inson's oifered hand warmly, " that I never could leave England 
 without seeing you, and thanking you. But I did not think I should 
 have the pleasure so soon. How kind of you, sir !" 
 
 " Pure selfishness, Mrs. Holly," answered the other, " if you refer 
 to my purchase of Mr. Holly's outfit. It was exactly what I wanted. 
 I have to roam about England in odd nooks and corners, and could 
 not do it more pleasantly than with Tommy's aid. Do you think 
 your husband made a good bargain ? Well, I would not sell Tommy 
 alone for fifty pounds. In fact, I shall never sell him. Here is the 
 picture, Mr. Holly." 
 
 The ex-artist got a magnify ing-glass, and, drawing the lamp to his 
 side of the table, examined the picture with absorbed interest. 
 
 " You will not drive about the country long, sir?" observed Mrs. 
 Holly. "Anybody can see you are not accustomed to that sort of 
 work." 
 
 " Why not ?" said the visitor, amused. 
 
 " Because you are a gentleman." 
 
AT BATH. 185 
 
 " And he lias taken the picture of a hidy !" broke in her husband. 
 " A real, no-niistake hidy. Witli the Observatory background, Nan. 
 Lovely ! lovely !" 
 
 "You excite my curiosity, Mr. Holly," said Mr. Robinson. 
 " Allow me to look at the picture. I have not had a good view of 
 it since it was finished." 
 
 He took the glass, and drawing the lamp nearer, studied the pic- 
 ture with critical scrutiny. " Three-quarter face," he said ; " the 
 background is perfect. You can see the stones in the Observatory, 
 and the branches on the trees beyond. The hat is well taken, and 
 the curls below the rim. The eyes " 
 
 He ceased his audible comments, but continued, mentally : 
 
 " The eyes ! What glorious eyes ! They are not eyes, they are 
 stars ! What a paragon of loveliness is this ! I remember noting 
 her grey eyes. They look darker, but the same expression is here. 
 By this light ! I seem to see the girl again in bodily presence. How 
 could I be so dull when near her? She seemed a mere child there, 
 and here, she is a matured woman. Fearless and true, if eyes ever 
 tell the truth. Surely I have never seen her before to-day, yet those 
 eyes seem to awaken a thousand memories ! If I ever saw that face 
 before, could I possibly forget it? Positively, there is an air of 
 queenly dignity in the face! The mouth and chin are entirely fault- 
 less, and the poise of the head is simply magnificent. If I were ten 
 years younger, I could fall madly in love with such a face as this !" 
 
 " Mr. Holly," he said, aloud, " I took this picture by accident. I 
 had the Observatory in focus, and the lady just stepped in and got 
 taken." 
 
 " Exactly !" replied Mr. Holly. 
 
 " Well, I never saw this lady — that is — I think I never saw her. 
 It may be that I knew her when a child, because she seems to remind 
 me of some one. And I shall never see her again " 
 
 " Ho, ho !" said Mr. Holly. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ?" said his guest, nettled. " Do you 
 doubt my word ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ! Excuse me. But you are bound to see her again ! 
 I only wish I was as sure of a hundred pound." 
 
 " I have a great mind to promise you a hundred pounds, to be paid 
 when I see the original of this picture." 
 
 "I'll let you off easier!" replied Mr. Holly. "I'll be satisfied 
 with the hundred pounds when you marry her ! For you are bound 
 to marry her, you know !" 
 
186 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Indeed I don't know. Come ! I bet you a hundred pounds 
 against a shilling that I don't marry her." 
 
 " Done away with you, sir ! Hooray, Nan ! We're a hundred 
 pound richer, or my name's not Tim Holly ! Why, Mr. Robinson, 
 if you didn't marry this lady, with the Observatory in the back- 
 ground, it would be flyin' in the face of Providence ! Do you re- 
 member what I told you about old Morrow's saying? The man 
 who carries the picture of a woman, with Clifton Observatory in 
 the background, is a gone goose ! Excuse me, sir ! That's what 
 Morrow always said. And I'll swear it always came true as far as 
 I know !" 
 
 " Is there no way of escape for me ?" said the other, derisively, 
 even while he felt his heart beating rather faster than usual. 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir!" replied Holly. "Sell the picture — destroy the 
 other copies and break the negative." 
 
 " Will it answer as well if I destroy all the pictures ? I am not 
 likely to find a purchaser, you know." 
 
 " Just as well, sir." And after a moment's pause, he continued, 
 suddenly, " Excuse me, sir ! Will you take five pounds for this 
 picture, and promise to destroy the rest and the negative ?" 
 
 " Ha !" said the other, the blood rushing to his honest face. " I 
 understand you, my friend. You would not give five shillings for 
 the picture." 
 
 " I am certain you would not sell it for a hundred pounds !" said 
 Holly. 
 
 " This is too absurd !" said Mr. Robinson, in hot indignation. 
 " Look you ! I am not in immediate want of money, and therefore I 
 should not sell the picture at all. It is a curiosity. It has no 
 intrinsic value. It " 
 
 " It is a capital likeness of Mrs. Robinson as is to be !" retorted 
 Holly. " And you are not apt to sell your wife's picture promis- 
 cuous !" 
 
 " Suppose the lady should happen to be married ?" said the other, 
 desperately. 
 
 " You would just have to wait for t'other fellow to die, and give 
 her a year for mourning," was the cool rejoinder. 
 
 "You are incorrigible !" said Mr. Robinson, after a burst of un- 
 controllable mirth. " I must leave you now." 
 
 " Wait a minute, sir, please. Nan is making a cup of tea. You 
 will do us the honour to take a cup of tea ? Besides, I have some- 
 thing to show you." 
 
AT BATIf. 187 
 
 While his wife spread a Aiowy cloth on the table, and arranged 
 cups and sancers, Mr. Holly rnniraaged in a bureau drawer, and 
 came presently with a handful of jjliotographs. 
 
 " Tiiese are some of old Morrow's duplicates," he said, as he looked 
 through them ; " and I saw one yesterday which I'd like you to see. 
 Ah, here it is ! Look through the glaas again, sir." 
 
 The Observatory again, No mistake about that. And a lady 
 looking out of the picture directly at you. Totally unlike in dreas, 
 expression, attitude, yet startlingly like! Was there some devilish 
 enchantment about this Observatory? Or was the last photographer 
 going mad ? He laid the two pictures side by side on the table, and 
 studied them with absorbed attention. The old one, somewhat faded 
 and blurred, was still highly attractive. Certain faults in the exe- 
 cution, which later jihotographic art had removed, did not destroy 
 the accuracy of the likeness, and it was the likeness of a woman of 
 great beauty. The new one, all fresh and perfect as it was, owed its 
 excellence to the singular sweetness of exprassion in the countenance, 
 and the brave eyes which were so brave because the heart was so 
 guileless. The old one had an expression of hard common sense 
 and unflinching firmness. The new one had an indescribable air of 
 romance mingling with its utter perfect truthfulness, 
 
 " How old is this picture, Mr. Holly ?" asked Mr. Robinson, at 
 last. 
 
 " Twenty-five year, sir," 
 
 " What ! Do you know the exact age?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ! The date is on the back. But I'd know that 
 picture, anyway." 
 
 " Do you know the lady ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, sir! Take a cup of tea, sir. Sugar? Yes, Nan. 
 These are some of Nan's muffins, sir. When we get out in the 
 Bush we'll astonish them heathens with Nan's muffins." 
 
 \y\\Qn Mrs. Holly removed the cloth the visitor prepared for his 
 departure. He indulged in another long look at the old photograph, 
 and fancied he detected more and more points of resemblance to his 
 own. 
 
 " You did not tell me the name of this lady," he said. 
 
 " I told you about that picture yesterday. That is Miss An not." 
 
 " Miss Annot ? Ha ! I remember ! This is Colonel Mordaunt's 
 sister, who was married to Mr. Dale ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Can I purchase this from you, Mr. Holly ?" 
 
188 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " No, sir ! It is not for sale. But I'lf give it with all the pleasure 
 in life. It belongs to you by rights, anyway. You bought my kit, 
 and all these pictures belong to it. Take it and welcome, sir. Good 
 night, and good-bye, sir ! We shall be on the sea in two days. 
 Don't forget that hundred-pound bet. I'm sure of it, sooner or later. 
 Let me put some tissue-paper around the pictures. There is a like- 
 ness between them, by jingo! It is all in the way they hold their 
 heads ! Don't you see ? They seem to own everything they look 
 at!" 
 
 Mr. Robinson walked down the street under the mellow light of 
 the moon. Arriving at the corner, where the lady of the scarlet 
 flower had entered, he knocked, and was speedily admitted. 
 
 " If Miss Carey is disengaged," he said, giving a card to the ser- 
 vant, "say I ask for a few minutes' conversation." 
 
 The footman glanced at the dress of the visitor. They observe 
 the proprieties at Bath. Mr. Robinson's attire was faultless — for 
 morning promenades, but not suitable for evening visits. Still, the 
 footman ushered him into the drawing-room with sober politeness. 
 
 "Some beggin' gent," muttered the servant, as he retired, "or, 
 mayhap, a literary gent, wot don't care for looks. His clothes is 
 clean, anyway. Miss Carey can say not at home if it ain't all right." 
 
 But Miss Carey was at home. She sent the footman back on the 
 instant. 
 
 " Tell Mr. Rayneford I will be down immediately." 
 
 " Rayneford I" said her companion, starting to his feet. " Hy- 
 land ! Stop, Blain, I will go down." And he skipped down, two 
 steps at a time. 
 
 " Hyland, my dear fellow, welcome !" 
 
 " Glendare ! This is an unexpected pleasure !" 
 
 " I should not have known you, Hyland," said Glendare, " bearded 
 like the pard, and looking so robust. My last sight of you was 
 when you crawled out of your bungalow, gaunt and feeble. You 
 came by the ' Bengal' ? And Zeba also. Where have you been ? 
 Where are you going ? To Scotland with me ? Why, man, I am 
 a landed proprietor. Laird of Glendare, with an actual rent-roll !" 
 
 " I congratulate you, Hamish," replied Hyland. " I was wishing 
 for you when you burst in at the door. Are you living here?" 
 
 "No. I called to see Mildred. I am at the George Hotel. 
 What do you want ? How can I serve you ?" 
 
 " Let me answer when I have seen Miss Carey. I hardly know 
 yet what I want. I — ah, here she comes !" 
 
THE PICTURE. 189 
 
 ^lildred entered with stately grace. A little more colour in 
 her cheek than usual, but otherwise unchanged. She welcomed her 
 visitor with genuine pleasure, and seated herself by his side. 
 
 ** I heard you had called," she said. "Mr. Brentam told me. 
 We tiiought we should meet you in London. But you only re- 
 mained one day. Mr. Plimpton saw uncle on Monday. No tidings 
 of your brother?" 
 
 " None," answered Hyland, looking with great curiosity into her 
 placid eyes. " 1 thought you might give me some hint, perhaps, 
 that would aid me." 
 
 " Alius, no !" she replied, with a deeper tint in her cheek. " My 
 lord gave me no clue to his intentions. Where are you going, 
 Hamish?" 
 
 "To the hotel. Good-bye. Hyland, you will come, presently? 
 I have a letter to write, which will occupy me half an hour." 
 
 " I will be with you when you affix your signature," said Hyland. 
 
 AVhen Glendare departed, Hyland walked across the room once 
 and again, Mildred watching him in silent wonder. At last he 
 drew up a chair and sat opposite, regarding her with a troubled 
 expression of countenance. 
 
 " We were children together, Mildred," he began. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, startled by the sound of her name on his lips. 
 
 "I have something to say to you. And I do not know how to 
 begin. I am in great distress. I saw you to-day ou Clifton 
 Downs." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The Picture. 
 
 TTYLAND found Mr. Glendare waiting for him an hour later, 
 -' — ■- at the George Hotel. The night was fine, the moon nearly 
 full, and they took their chairs out on the balcony of the billiard- 
 room, where smoking was lawful and conversation easy. 
 
 "First of all," said Hyland, "tell me about your voyage. Where 
 is the colonel? Where are the ladies?" 
 
 "The colonel is here, in Bath. Miss Juliet also. Dr. Leigh and 
 Haidee went to Clifton to-day. The others will follow to-morrow. 
 AVhere have you been ?" 
 
 "I came from Clifton this evening," answered Hyland. 
 
190 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " All ! Then you saw Haidee ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " But you would not know the child," continued Glendare ; " it is 
 another Haidee. Imagine a robust young woman, steeped to the 
 lips in romance, yet full of excellent sense. A reader of heavy 
 philosophy ; learned in no end of Hindoo lore ; able to translate 
 with amazing accuracy their misty dreams into sober English. 
 Instead of crawling about with muffled cheeks and dreading each 
 zephyr, facing a marine storm with eager delight when stout-hearted 
 men were filled with dread. Instead of the pale and fragile slip of 
 a girl, imagine a pretty — nay, the prettiest woman you ever saw. 
 That letter of yours about your favourite drug did the business." 
 
 " But you wrote me she would none of my drugs." 
 
 " Exactly ! That is, Leigh pooh-poohed your remedies, and 
 hunted up some more powerful agent, and cured her. She has had 
 no neuralgia since, except some slight spasms, which she cures 
 without difficulty." 
 
 " And her sister?" said Hyland. " I left Frank devoted to Miss 
 Juliet." 
 
 " Yes. He remained constant until we left the Cape." 
 
 " And then ?" 
 
 " And then his affections waned," said Mr. Glendare. " Or rather, 
 he transferred them to the younger, and no wonder !" 
 
 "The wretch !" said Hyland, laughing; "he had expressly stipu- 
 lated that I should court Miss Haidee, and leave him a clear 
 field." 
 
 " But you did not." 
 
 "No. I am under very peculiar entanglements. Fate has bound 
 me for life to one young woman whom I have never seen, except 
 for a brief instant. And I am trying to perfect a plan to deliver 
 another young woman, whom I have never seen at all — yes ! I did 
 see her boot ! And there is a third young woman " 
 
 " Well ?" said Glendare. 
 
 " We will say nothing about the third," said Hyland, cautiously, 
 "especially as two are more than enough. Hamish, my friend, 
 answer me candidly ! Have you ever detected in me any tendency 
 to — insanity ?" 
 
 " What rubbish ! Certainly not!" said Glendare, indignant. 
 
 " Well, then," continued Hyland, earnestly, " have you ever seen 
 a disposition towards the supernatural : a readiness to swallow super- 
 stitious theories ?" 
 
THE PICTURE. 191 
 
 " I have seen in yon," said Mr. Glendare, with crisp exactness, 
 " a profound belief in any delusion of the devil that came to you 
 in either of two forms. First, any metaphysical absurdity that was 
 endorsed by some High Dutch authority, provided the sum of his 
 philosophy was the annihilation of Deity. Second, any form of 
 pantheistic materialism that has been plucked up by the roots and 
 killed two or three tliousand years, lieyond these, I have never 
 found in you a tendency to believe anything." 
 
 " Thank you !" said Hyland, much relieved. "Now, then, hear 
 my confession ! All the way from Calcutta to England I was 
 under a devilish spell ! Zeba, who came with me, performed a lot 
 of absurd antics, under solemn forms, every week. And when his 
 manipulations were over, he would come to me with grave politeness 
 and announce that ' Sahib's brother was well, and was over there,' 
 alwavs pointing westwardly." 
 
 "What do you mean by absurd antics?" said Glendare, much 
 interested. 
 
 " He began by sweeping his tulwar about his head like a stream 
 of light, then threw it whirling in the air, catching it always by the 
 hilt ts it fell, then suspended it by the main rigging, and watched 
 its gyrations until it became stationary. Then he got the exact di- 
 rection by the compass and noted the result. After we rounded the 
 Cape, he would bring me the responses he obtained from his oracle, 
 and they varied very slightly from week to week. As we came 
 north the point of the weapon deflected more and more, and his 
 latest revelation, which he obtained at the mouth of the Channel, 
 indicated a locality considerably south of west. 
 
 " I had some books with me, of course. I read Kant and Locke 
 and Leibnitz every day. I Avould reach the sure conclusion that 
 Zeba and his incantations had not the poor merit of being devilish. 
 They were simply absurd. And then, I waited with feverish impa- 
 tience for his next announcement, hoping it would contradict the 
 previous record. But there was no such contradiction. I^ook you ! 
 The Hindoo could not possibly construct a string with the precise 
 twist that would bring the sword suspended by it to repose with its 
 point alwaxjs to the west! Once I asked him what force controlled 
 the weapon, and he replied, with magnificent confidence, ' Saiiib is 
 Lord of the tulwar. Tulwar mxist serve sahib !' 
 
 " When we landed at Plymouth we went directly to Hawkley. 
 His mummery was re-enacted on the lawn, and Zeba marched nearly 
 due west in search of Miles, with no more apparent doubt as to the 
 
192 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 direction than I had as to the direction of London. I have not seen 
 him since. 
 
 " Confession first : Zeba's atrocious tomfoolery has bewitched me 
 to such an extent that I cannot get up enough steam to search for 
 Miles in any other direction than westward. 
 
 "However, I bought a horse and conveyance, intending to travel 
 over the entire island, by cross-roads and lanes, any way, every way, 
 and hunt for traces of Miles. The trap I purchased is a photog- 
 rapher's trap. You know I can take pictures. When I parted 
 from the seller he gave me a word of caution. ' If you take a view 
 of Clifton Observatory,' he said, 'be sure there is no woman in the 
 picture ! Because, if you take such a picture, and keep it, that 
 woman will own you, sooner or later !' Did you ever hear Sbch 
 rubbish ? 
 
 " Of course not ! Very well ! I went to Clifton. I went to the 
 Observatory. I arranged my apparatus, and just as I was ready to 
 take the Observatory a woman stepped in between it and the camera, 
 stood stock still, and was taken ! What the deuce are you laughing 
 at? I feel more like weeping or swearing ! 
 
 " Mark ! I had forgotten that foolish caution. It had gone 
 clean from my memor}^ until an hour ago, when I accidentally met 
 the man from whom I bought the trap. His first question was about 
 the picture. I declare to you, Hamish, I felt my heart bound as 
 his warning came back to my mind ; and now that I am recounting 
 all this to you so composedly, I am labouring under strong excite- 
 ment. 
 
 "I know very well all you are going to say. You will prate 
 about remarkable coincidences. You will quote a dozen cases where 
 similar unaccountable events occurred. But you do not thereby 
 deliver me from the appalling weight of the delusion ! It fills my 
 mind ! 
 
 " I hardly know whether to tell you any more or not." 
 
 "Go on, my dear Hyland," said Glendare. "I am enormously 
 interested." 
 
 " Well," said Hyland, slowly, " I happened to have the picture in 
 my pocket, and Holly — that is — my ex-photographer, produced a 
 magnifying-glass, and I have studied the picture very carefully. 
 And positively ! the mere picture has taken such possession of me, 
 that I would follow blindly to the gates of death wherever that face 
 might lead ! Feel my pulses ! Try me on some complicated prob- 
 lem in Euclid. Ask for a lucid synopsis of the Cartesian philoso- 
 
THE PICTURE. 103 
 
 j)hy. Put me to any test, and yon will find me sane. And yet tliis 
 bondage is so real, that material chains on my limbs would not bind 
 me more effectually !" 
 
 " Let us discuss the points separately," said Glendare, gently. 
 "About Zeba first. Do you doubt the Hindoo's sincerity?" 
 
 " Xot at all." 
 
 " These high-caste Indians are peculiar people. They are deli- 
 cately organi/x'd. They are marvellously acute reasoners. Yet I 
 have found several mesmerisers among them, and I am bound to 
 admit that I could not account for their sublime confidence in their 
 occult powers. Now, all these manipulations of the tulwar accord 
 with one of their theories, which invests steel with unusual proper- 
 ties. • One old Brahmin in Calcutta, who is an accomplished mag- 
 netiser, has a steel baton covered with curious hieroglyph ies, which 
 he habitually uses at his seances. Remember that science does not 
 say much about magnetism. It does not know much. It has re- 
 corded a mass of phenomena, but it makes no dogmatic laws. You 
 can place me on a stool with glass feet, and charge me with some- 
 thing which you call electricity. Then, if I put my finger on a 
 third person he feels an electric shock. Now suppose I have within 
 my organism something analogous to the Voltaic battery. Suppose 
 this force latent, and supjwse I discover a method whereby it can be 
 vitalised at will. In such a case you do not need the isolated stool 
 or the mechanical battery. 
 
 " I believe Zeba magnetises you, Master Hyland ! 
 
 " Next, about the picture. Are you sure, quite sure you did not 
 remember the artist's prediction when you took it?" 
 
 " Positively sure !" answered Hyland. " I was trying to get the 
 Observatory into focus. The girl annoyed me by darting in my 
 way once and again. I did not notice her, except as an obstruction. 
 At last, when I was all ready, had the plate in, and was about to 
 remove the covering, she stepped in again, and, with her face half 
 turnal to me, stood still as a rock. It was a momentary impulse 
 that led me to remove the velvet and allow the sun to take her. I 
 expected her to fidget about and spoil the picture. But she was a 
 statue. I saw her on the bridge a little later, and then for the first 
 time I noticed her fine eyes. And after I had obtained two or three 
 proofs in the afternoon I mounted one, only because time hung 
 heavy on my hands and I wanted occupation. And I did not look 
 at the picture until Holly accosted me, two hours ago, here in Bath." 
 
 " What brought you here?" 
 
 13 
 
194 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Heh? I — I was going — I was looking for— 
 
 "No matter/' said Glendare. "Pardon me; my question was 
 indiscreet and not pertinent at all. May I see the picture?" 
 
 " Certainly ! When we finish our cheroots we will go in and you 
 shall examine it." 
 
 " Meanwhile," said Mr. Glendare, " I will tell you a bit of per- 
 sonal history. I came home with the Mordaunts because Leigh said 
 the summer would kill me if I remained. I was very eager to come. 
 But my missionary work was encouraging, and I was reluctant to 
 leave it, and nothing short of positive orders from Leigh would have 
 brought me. When we reached London I took the first train for 
 the North, and was iu Glendare, my native village, the next 
 morning. 
 
 "A life-long enemy of my house, the hereditary enemy of my 
 clan, was owner of Glendare. You do not know anything of High- 
 land enmities ! However, I had no personal enmity towards this 
 old solitary man, though he had injured me to the extent of his 
 power in my youth. He was dying, Hyland, and the local minister, 
 an excellent Presbyterian gentleman, was in Edinburgh. The old 
 laird heard of my arrival and sent for me, saying he was dying. I 
 went and remained until he breathed his last, having assured him 
 of my full forgiveness and received his blessing. I attended his 
 funeral, wearing my native tartans as the only representative of the 
 old clan. And when his will was opened I found myself' his sole 
 heir. 
 
 " Now for the superstition. A week before I landed he had sent 
 for his lawyer and executed that will. He had an old servant, 
 Strachan, who had been a playmate of my grandfather's, and Stra- 
 chan has fits of second sight. And in one of his recent visions he 
 had seen Hamish Glendare somewhere oiF the Canaries, with his 
 face towards bonnie Scotland. Hence the will. The old laird was 
 waiting for me when I arrived." 
 
 " JSIr. Glendare ?" said a servant, stepping out upon the balcony. 
 
 " I am Mr. Glendare." 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir, a telegraph. Boy waitin' for answer." 
 
 Mr. Glendare threw away his cigar and entered the billiard-room, 
 followed by Hyland. He read the despatch, handed it to his friend, 
 while he wrote a reply. Hyland read : 
 
 " From Dr. Leigh, Clifton, Bristol, to Hamish Glendare, George 
 Hotel, Bath. Haidee cannot be found. Have not seen her since 
 arrival. Am still searching. Tell the colonel. She may have met 
 
THE PICTURE. 195 
 
 some acquaintance here, and is perhaps in sonic private house. Am 
 searching systematically through the town." 
 
 "This is most extraordinary," said Glendare. "They were at 
 some little town on the A\'elsh border, and were to come to Clifton 
 this morning, and to Bath to-morrow." 
 
 "Does he mean Miss Mordaunt?" said Hyland, a thousand 
 tlioughts rushing through liis mind, some wise, some grotesque, and 
 all maddening. "Can he possibly mean Miss Mordaunt?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly." 
 
 "Come!" said Hyland, impetuously. "How can we get there? 
 That poor child ! Oh, matchless scoundrel !" 
 
 " There is no train to-night," said Glendare, astonished at Hy- 
 land's vehemence. " Where are you going?" 
 
 " To Clifton." 
 
 " What can you do. Ply land ? What do you know ?" 
 
 " Everything ! Nothing ! But I will find out, and find her." 
 
 "Sit down a moment," said Glendare, "and answer me a few 
 questions. You know something or suspect something. Did you 
 see or hear anything to-day at Clifton about Haidee?" 
 
 " Nothing. That is, I am not certain. But delay will drive me 
 mad ! Let us go to the station, and find when a train will go." 
 
 " What is that in your hand?" said Glendare, still detaining him. 
 
 " Ah ! this is the Clifton picture ! It has lost its influence already ! 
 Take it, and come away." 
 
 Glendare unwrapped the picture and held it up to the gaslight. 
 As he looked, he uttered an exclamation of wonder. 
 
 "Whose face is this, Rayneford?" he said, watching Hyland's 
 countenance with earnest scrutiny. 
 
 " I do not know ! I do not care ! Come !" 
 
 " One minute. Have you never seen this woman?" 
 
 " Never, except for one short minute. Why do you ask? Why 
 do you gaze at me in that fashion ?" 
 
 " Because this is Haidee Mordaunt, beyond the possibility of 
 doubt!" 
 
196 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 SiSTA. 
 
 SISTA, Haidee's ayah, had two distinguishing habits. Tliese 
 differentia separated her from European ladies of an uncertain 
 age, rather than from her own countrywomen. The first was her 
 custom to fall asleep upon all occasions. She was more somnolent 
 than the fat boy immortalized by Dickens, but her slumbers were 
 so light that she generally knew all. that was proceeding around her. 
 Her second specialty was a habit of confiscating any sort of intoxi- 
 cating liquid that came within reach of her slender fingers. She 
 was omnibibulous. Pale ale, sherry, brandy, or gin never came 
 amiss. Everything alcoholic was grist to her mill. In India, the 
 Mordaunts, who knew her peculiarities, locked up their liquids much 
 more diligently than their plate. Sista was unswervingly honest 
 about all other descriptions of property, but the appropriation of 
 loose drinks was to her an act without a moral quality. She had 
 been nurse to Haidee from the infancy of the latter, had taught her 
 two or three dialects of Hindoostanee, including the Pracrit. The 
 use " Beebe" made of her lingual accomplishments was to scold Sista 
 in various dialects whenever she violated her temperance pledges, 
 which was about three times a week. The old woman sustained 
 such a relation to her charge that she was dominant as nurse and 
 submissive as servant. When neuralgia dulled Beebe's acute facul- 
 ties, Sista got drunk. 
 
 On the yoyage from Calcutta the ayah had few opportunities. 
 Her young mistress was in excellent health, and provided one bottle 
 of pale ale per diem for Sista. This quantity, albeit received with 
 profuse outward gratitude, was always imbibed by Sista with an 
 inward sniff of disdain. It was equal to a quart of Avater poured 
 upon a sand-heap occupying a cubic yard of space. 
 
 No one knew by what subtle processes Sista obtained her drinks. 
 She waited upon Haidee at meal-time, and utilized all the dregs of 
 beer, brandy, or wine in any of the glasses on the table. She had a 
 remarkably happy faculty of slipping a half-emptied tumbler from 
 the side of any unobservant diner, tossing the contents into her 
 stomach, and deftly substituting a clean glass. If " Beebe" turned 
 her reproachful eyes towards her ayah on such occasions, the latter 
 incontinently fell into innocent slumber. 
 
 One day, after leaving the Cape, Daltman found a shady spot to 
 
SISTA. 197 
 
 windward of the fumiel. He was seated on a coil of ropo, regaling 
 upon hardtack and boer, an honr at"ter regular luncheon-time, Sista 
 was nciir him, waiting to remove his plate and glass. As he caught 
 lier wistful glance, he beckoned her to him. 
 
 "Here, Sista," he said, pouring the remains of his bottle into the 
 tumbler ; " toss it otf, old woman. I have had enough." 
 
 " Ram, ram, saiiib !" said Sista, obeying on the instant. 
 
 " I say, Sista," said Daltman, cautiously, " how long have you 
 been in the colonel's service?" 
 
 " When Madame Sahib die I take Beebe." 
 
 " You mean Miss Haidee?" said Daltman, eagerly. Sista nodded. 
 
 *' Where was that, Sista ? In Calcutta?" 
 
 " No, sahib. In Puujaub." 
 
 "Did Mrs. Mordaunt die there?" 
 
 "Yes, sahib; when Beebe born." 
 
 " And Miss Haidee was her only child ?" said Daltman, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, sahib. Did not know Colonel Sahib. Zeba bring me and 
 Be6be many days through jungle. Zeba no sleep. When get to 
 Lucknow, find Colonel Sahib. Hab Beebe Juliet. Much fight in 
 Luck now. Much fight Lahore." 
 
 " I have heard," said Daltman, watching the sharp black eyes 
 of his interlocutor, "that Colonel Mordaunt adopted Miss Juliet, 
 the daughter of a brother officer, who was killed during the mutiny." 
 
 " Yes, sahib," answered Sista ; " brudder hab Beebe too. Brudder 
 get kill in fight. Colonel Sahib make Beebe same as other Beebe." 
 
 " You mean Miss Juliet ?" said Daltman, somewhat confused 
 by tlie defective English. 
 '"Yes, sahib." 
 
 " That is — Miss Haidee is the colonel's real daughter?" 
 
 " Yes, sahib." 
 
 Daltman allowed the nurse to depart. Here was a piece of valua- 
 ble information. He knew of a certain estate in England, some- 
 what dilapidated now, but of great value doubtless. Mr. Brentam 
 had tokl him about it. The colonel was the last of the Mordaunts, 
 and Castledane would certainly be inherited by Haidee. He had 
 neglected the child too much hitherto. He would be more attentive 
 henceforth. He had asked Glendare and Dr. Leigh the same ques- 
 tions, but neither of them could furnish the required information. 
 He had it now from the best source, and he would keep his knowl- 
 edge to himself. He was not impecunious, by any means, but he 
 had a hankering after Castledane. "Frank Daltman of Castle- 
 
198 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 dane" was far better than plain Frank Daltman. He would cer- 
 tainly cultivate Haidee. 
 
 There she sat under a strip of awning with her everlasting book. 
 Juliet was walking with Dr. Leigh. Frank had always been rather 
 patronising in his intercourse with the slender girl, but she was quite 
 a robust young woman now. She had suddenly emerged from miss- 
 hood under his very eyes, and he had not noted it. No sea-sickness ; 
 no neuralgia, and with eyes that were positively lovely ! If Hyland 
 had not been such a chucklehead he might have gotten this prize for 
 the asking ! 
 
 He strolled across the deck and sat down on one of Haidee's 
 numerous cushions. 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Haidee," he said, " but I saw you so absorbed 
 in your book, that I could not restrain my curiosity. May I ask 
 what you are reading?" 
 
 " * Ivanhoe,' " answered Haidee, politely closing the boolv, 
 
 " Ah, yes ! I remember. All about knights and warriors and 
 lovers." 
 
 "Not much about lovers," replied Haidee. " I was just reading 
 about DeBracy and his courtship of Rowena. He wanted an estate." 
 
 "Mercenary!" ejaculated Daltman, while he winced under the 
 grey eyes. " Still, I suppose he had the requisite amount of affec- 
 tion for the lady. I forget. Did he get her at last?" 
 
 " Certainly not !" replied Haidee. " Sir Walter could not make 
 such a mistake as that! I really think the Templar far more 
 respectable." 
 
 "The Templar? Oh, yes! He was the fellow that carried off" 
 the Jewess. What stunning horses they must have had in those 
 days ! You see the Templar had half a ton of old iron on his body. 
 You have read the story ?" 
 
 " Six times." 
 
 " By Jove !" said Daltman, involuntarily, " I've heard of a fellow 
 that kept sane when in a dungeon by losing six pins and then hunt- 
 ing for them in the dark ! But to read one of those books six times ! 
 Whew!" 
 
 " What sort of books do you read, Mr. Daltman ?" asked Haidee, 
 demurely. 
 
 " I ? Oh, I have to read up all sorts of things. Chiefly scientific 
 books. Those that relate to my profession, of course. You know 
 we subalterns have a lot of engineering to do. Then we have to 
 study histories of wars. But Sir Walter always seemed dry sort 
 
SISTA. 199 
 
 of reading to me. Anyhow, you have read enough for to-day. 
 Allow me to escort you from the after hatch to the foremast and 
 back. You should take more exercise. The doctor says so. See I 
 he is giving your sister a regular constitutional. Let us take the 
 other side of the deck." 
 
 Haidee took his offered arm, wondering what this unwonted po- 
 liteness meant. He had been very devoted to Juliet hitherto, and 
 this was a sudden attack of courtesy. It indicated something, and 
 Haidee with keen vision sought out the motive. 
 
 " Why don't you read poetry sometimes, Miss Haidee ?" said 
 Daltman, as they began the promenade. 
 
 " I do. I read the * Lay of the Last Minstrel' yesterday." 
 
 " Scott again. He must be your favourite author." 
 
 " I have not read much poetry. I mean rhymes. I have read 
 ' Paradise Lost' Also ' Pollok's Course of Time.' It is dreadful !" 
 
 " Which?" said Daltman, smiling. 
 
 " The * Course of Time,' " answered she, with a shudder. " But I 
 have read Maha Nataha. It is in the Pracrit, and is very pretty. 
 Zeba taught me more than anybody else. Poor Zeba !" 
 
 "What ails Zeba?" said Daltman, a little roughly. He was 
 jealous of Zeba. 
 
 " He lost his arm, you know," said Haidee, simply, "and his eye. 
 There was more poetry in Zeba's attitude when he faced the tiger 
 than I ever found in books. He is a noble, you know. He taught 
 me a Pracrit song — the ' Song of the Tulwar' — while he was getting 
 cured of his wounds." 
 
 " It was quite plucky, no doubt," observed Daltman, " but he 
 probably thought he had killed the brute instead of only wounding 
 him." 
 
 "I fancy not," replied Haidee, quietly; "he only stood there be- 
 cause we were in danger. He says he knew his shot had missed." 
 
 " Well," said her companion, " Zeba was a soldier. He was 
 brave. He risked his life, of course, but all soldiers do that. There 
 is poetry in all battle-fields, only a fellow don't have time to pick it 
 out. Any soldier would have done the same that Zeba did." 
 
 " Mr. Rayneford did more," said Haidee — " he killed the tiger. 
 And he is not a soldier either." 
 
 " Ah, well !" answered Daltman, " I see that tiger fight made a 
 great impression upon you. I have killed a dozen tigers, and never 
 found much fun in the sport." 
 
 " When one is on an elephant, with plenty of guns, and with 
 
200 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 plenty of armed companions, it is not so exciting as when one stands 
 alone with nothing but a tulwar and a dauntless heart." 
 
 " Really !" said Daltman, laughing, "you should write that down I 
 It sounds like a passage from a romance. But I am not going to 
 make game of your heroes. If you had passed through rough 
 scenes, and escaped from more frightful perils, you would not invest 
 that encounter with such romantic interest. By-the-bye, Rayneford 
 prefers the more peaceful pursuits. He refused to join us, because 
 he was cultivating some horrid vegetable drug !" 
 
 "And Zeba?" said Haidee. 
 
 " Oh, Zeba was just mysterious and obstinate. He pretended, or 
 perhaps believed, that his tulwar announced Hy land's return to 
 Calcutta. Of course, we knew better." 
 
 "/don't," murmured Haidee. 
 
 "Why, Zeba would have detained the ship if he could!" said 
 Daltman. 
 
 " And as he could not he — waited." 
 
 Mr. Daltman was growing weary of the discussion. But Haidee 
 went on. 
 
 " When I was too young to know anything, Zeba brought me and 
 Sista through a howling wilderness to papa. Sometimes we were 
 surrounded by enemies, and had to hide for days in the thickest 
 jungle. The Sepoys were chopping up little children wherever they 
 found them, only because they were white. If he had given me up 
 he could have gone with safety from Lahore to Lucknow. There 
 was no risk. Papa did not dream that I was living until Zeba 
 placed me in his arms at Lucknow." 
 
 "I shall remember Zeba with gratitude hereafter," said Daltman, 
 fervently. 
 
 " It was because Zeba was a gentleman," continued Haidee ; " that 
 is all. Papa sent him to Lahore without any positive orders. Cer- 
 tainly not to bring me back. For he did not know that I lived. 
 He knew my mamma was dead, but did not know that I was born. 
 And Zeba was only instructed to get all the information he could 
 obtain and some jewels of value that my mamma owned." 
 
 '' Did he get them ?" said Daltman, much interested. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Heigho ! I don't like to think of that horrible time. 
 I have learned all I know about it since I have grown up. How 
 nice it is to have all the sails spread ! The captain says we shall be 
 in England in two weeks." 
 
 " And you have never seen England ?" 
 
SISTA. 201 
 
 " Xo. But I know Castledane. Papa has told me so often 
 about it. And Clifton Downs! I am more eager to see Clifton 
 than any other place." 
 
 "There are hundreds of places in England far more attractive," 
 answered Daltnian. " I hope to show you all the Court beauties 
 during the summer. AN'hen the colonel is well enough, he is going 
 to take a cruise in the 'Juliet.' " 
 
 "But lam going to ex])lore them by land," said Haidee. "I 
 have had enough of the sea." 
 
 " Do not traduce the sea, Miss Haidee ! It has planted a large 
 crop of roses in your cheeks. I look back with amazement to the 
 time, only a few months ago, when you were a confirmed invalid. 
 You are not the same little Haidee of the hill country. The sea 
 has transformed you." 
 
 "With the aid of — quinia," thought Haidee. "And now," she 
 continued, aloud, " I will go back to ' Ivanhoe,' if you })lease." 
 
 Mr. Daltnian had full occupation for his wits during the remain- 
 der of the voyage. He had been quite pronounced in his attentions 
 to Juliet hitherto, and it was no easy task to reduce the devotion 
 by degrees, while he made regular approaches in a different direc- 
 tion. He was, hapj)ily, so completely satisfied with himself, that he 
 had no doubts of the result, when he decided which lady to tixke. 
 Castledane with either, and neither without Castledane. He was 
 by no means a "bad fellow," only supremely selfish, and consequently 
 totally incapable of the sort of affection that would attract Haidee. 
 If he could have seen into her mind, and detected how accurately 
 she had weighed him, he would have abandoned all hope of winning 
 her. The conceit that blinds its victim is a beneficent infliction 
 after all. It prevented Daltman's discovery of the humiliating fact 
 that Colonel !Mordaunt would ])romptly decline the honour of his 
 alliance ; that Juliet thought him a terrible bore, and that Haidee 
 would far prefer her old neuralgia to him for a life-long companion. 
 
 He had repeated short colloquys with Sista. The ayah had dis- 
 covered that it was important for Sahib Colonel to be Haidee's pro- 
 genitor. She got more beer for any little additional knowledge she 
 could impart, and when her memory was defective or her knowledge 
 limited, her imagination was active. Daltnian became possessed of 
 sundry scraps of personal history concerning the Mordaunts which cer- 
 tainly could not have been found in their diaries, if they kept them. 
 Sista was acute enough to know she incurred no risk in making these 
 liberal revelations. It was a secret investigation, and she knew it. 
 
202 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Ouce Daltman ventured a hint to Dr. Leigh. 
 
 " Doctor," he said, " do you think there is a more decided likeness 
 between Miss Juliet and the colonel than between the two ladies?" 
 
 " Hum I" said the doctor, " did you ever notice the colonel's nose?" 
 
 " Not particularly." 
 
 " Well, there it is ! Take a look." 
 
 The colonel was in his hammock, ten yards distant. His profile 
 stood out against the horizon. It was a well-cut nose, with thin 
 nostrils. The ladies were promenading the other side of the deck, 
 to windward, as they did not like smoke. Daltman examined the 
 fair faces, as they passed near him, in their walk. 
 
 "I think they all look alike," said Frank, at last. "They all 
 have noses and I cannot detect the least difference. Miss Haidee is 
 singing some gibberish " 
 
 " Gibberish ! That is the ' Song of the Tulwar.' " 
 
 "But the noses, doctor?" said Daltman. 
 
 " Well ! They all have noses, as you have said, and so they re- 
 semble one another. But the girls have very defective noses. Don't 
 you see ? They don't like the odour of our cheroots." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Disinterested Affections. 
 
 " T TNCLE," said Mr. Daltman, three weeks after the discussion 
 ^^ of noses, " please tell me what you know of Castledane and 
 its owner." 
 
 Mr. Brentam started. They were seated at dinner. Miss Carey 
 and Frank on opposite sides of the table, and !Mr. Brentam at the 
 head. 
 
 " Castledane ?" said the latter, deliberately. " That is the name 
 of an old ruin not far from Bath. The estate belongs to the Mor- 
 daunts." 
 
 " Exactly !" responded Frank. " And I am curious to know to 
 which of them." 
 
 " Which of the Mordaunts ?" said his uncle. " So far as I know, 
 there is only one of them left — Colonel Mordaunt, who came with 
 you from India." 
 
 "And. the estate is his?" 
 
DISINTERESTED AFFECTIONS. 203 
 
 " I suppose so. I remember there was a joint ownership, twenty- 
 odd years ago. Two brothers, Horace and Dane, inherited jointly. 
 There was some sort of encumbrance upon the estate, in the form of 
 an annuity, I think ; but it probably ceased at the death of the an- 
 nuitant. It is a very pretty property. Horace, the colonel, is sole 
 heir, no doubt." 
 
 "He was married in India, I suppose?" 
 
 " Yes. So I have heard. He is a widower, I believe, with two 
 daughters." 
 
 " Only one." 
 
 " You certainly wrote about two," said Mildred — " Juliet and 
 Haidee." 
 
 "One is adopted," said Daltman. "At least that is the rumour. 
 No one seems to know which of the ladies is the colonel's daughter." 
 
 " You might detect a family resemblance, certainly," observed 
 Mildred. 
 
 " Well ! I spent two weeks on that special investigation," replied 
 Daltman, discontentedly, " but I could reach no certain conclusion. 
 At one time I would fancy I had detected a distinguishing trait of 
 character, or tone of voice, or peculiarity of feature, and the next day 
 I would be sure to find these very marks more decidedly manifested 
 by the other." 
 
 His uncle and cousin laughed immoderately at this speech. Frank 
 was nettled. 
 
 " A fellow would like to know positively, you know," he said. 
 "But there is no way to find out. One cannot ask the question, of 
 course. It would be a pretty mess — no end of a sell — for a fellow 
 to propose to the wrong one !" 
 
 " You can afford to take your choice, Frank," said Mr. Brentam. 
 " Give me a drop of Burgundy. Plenty, thank you ! Your fortune 
 is large enough now for either of the ladies." 
 
 "Yes. But Castledane?" 
 
 "Pooh!" said his uncle. "What of Castledane? If you get 
 the wrong one you can probably buy Castledane of the other. 
 Anyhow, the estate belongs to the colonel. He can leave it to 
 either." 
 
 " Ah !" answered Frank, " that is precisely what he cannot do. 
 The estate is tied up by stringent provisions." 
 
 " How did you learn that ?" asked Mr. Brentam, incredulously. 
 
 " Oh !" replied Daltman, with charming frankness, " I investi- 
 gated that point since I landed. Castledane is certainly Colonel 
 
204 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Mordaunt's property now, but he cannot bequeath it at all. It is 
 entailed. The future owner may be the child of either one of the 
 joint heirs, and there were three — Horace, Dane, and Annot. 
 But no one^of their children can inherit except by the concurrent 
 conveyance of tiie others. Horace still lives, and is present owner. 
 We have to find proof of the death of the others, without issue, 
 before Colonel Mordaunt's daughter can perfect her title." 
 
 "A little more |Burgundy, Frank," said Mr. Brentam. "Dane 
 went to India before his brother. He may have married there, and 
 there may be a dozen heirs." 
 
 " No, sir," replied Daltman. "I think — that is — I have heard 
 the colonel has his brother's will. He died very soon after his 
 arrival, or very soon after the colonel arrived. The difficulty is 
 about the other." 
 
 "What other?" 
 
 " Annot." 
 
 There was a pause in the conversation. INlildred arose and passed 
 out to the drawing-room. The gentlemen cracked walnuts and 
 sipped wine in solemn silence. Mr. Brentam appeared to be medi- 
 tating over by-gone days. Mr. Daltman was recalling his talks with 
 Sista. While they were smoking, each waited for the other to 
 renew the conversation. 
 
 " Annot Mordauut married a Mr. Dale," said the other. " It is 
 twenty-five years, I think, this summer. They went to America. 
 Mr. Dale once owned land here " 
 
 " Dale's Manor ?" said Daltman. 
 
 " Yes. Twenty years ago I wanted his signature, and I sent a 
 trusty man to hunt him. He was gone six months. America is a 
 large country, and he could not find Mr. Dale. But he found a 
 cemetery and a tombstone in it, bearing the name of Annot ^lor- 
 daunt Dale, and the age recorded was twenty-eight years. I have 
 no doubt this was the colonel's sister." 
 
 " And her heirs ?" said Daltman, eagerly. " Did she leave chil- 
 dren?" 
 
 " I cannot tell. No traces could be found. My agent advertised 
 in all the large papere, offering a reward for intelligence of Mr. Dale. 
 It was in Charleston, South Carolina. So I have concluded to wait 
 patiently for some claimant to demand the signature of ]Mr. Dale, to 
 perfect ray title. It is not probable that the property will be offered 
 for sale, so it makes little difference." 
 
 "It borders on Hawkley, if I remember," observed Daltman. 
 
DISINTERESTED AFFECTIONS. 205 
 
 "Are you going in, sir? Thank you ! I have luul plenty. Mil- 
 dred will ,<i;ive us some tea." 
 
 They gathered around the whist-table after the conventional cup 
 of tea, Mr. Brentixni taking the dummy. 
 
 " ]>v-the-l)ye, uncle," said Fratd<, " talking of Hawkley, what has 
 become of Lord Kayneford ?" 
 
 " That question has been propounded a hundred times since the 
 spring, but I have not been able to give a very satisfactory answer. 
 The general impression is that he has left England." 
 
 " His bankers ought to know," said Daltman. 
 
 "Tiiey have not heard one word from him since his disappear- 
 ance," replied his uncle. 
 
 "If anything should happen to him Hyland would be in luck. 
 That is, if Hawkley is not weighted down too heavily. He would 
 have the title anyhow. And he is such a skinflint that he is safe to 
 die rich." 
 
 " Skinflint !" said Mildred. " That must be a slander, Frank !" 
 
 " Well, I did not mean skinflint. I should have said prudent or 
 economical. He would not participate in any expensive amusements 
 in Calcutta. Pie said ' he was after rupees.' He told me so. He 
 wanted a lac. Now if he meant silver rupees only, you can judge 
 how long he would have to scrape and save to make ten thousand 
 pounds !" 
 
 " Is he in Calcutta ?" asked Mr. Brentam. " Diamonds, IMildred ! 
 You are certainly not going to revoke, with the trump turned up at 
 your elbow?" 
 
 " Excuse me, uncle. Play, Frank !" 
 
 "Calcutta?" said Daltman. "Oh, no ! He is up in the moun- 
 tains. Got a fine post. Getting double pay. He has made friends 
 Avith the chief, and gets no end of praise. He is engineer, photog- 
 rapher, and arboriculturist. We wrote, inviting him to join our 
 party and visit England. But he was too busy to answer." 
 
 "Perhaps your invitations did not reach him," said Miss Carey. 
 
 " But they did !" replied Frank. " Glendare got some missionary 
 news from the same station a day before we sailed. This was in re- 
 sjwnse to enquiries that went with our invitations. Why, I asked 
 him to join me in a cruise in my yacht ! By-the-bye, uncle, I shall 
 be ready for sea in a week or two. AVIU you go?" 
 
 " Not I !" 
 
 " It will be jolly !" said Daltman. " I am going to sail right 
 down Bristol Channel, and tlien circumnavigate the island ! We 
 
206 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 will stop where we please, and as long as we please, and when you 
 get enough of the sea, you can always get to a railway " 
 
 " Provided you are not wrecked !" said the elder. " I am grateful 
 for your invitation, but beg to decline. I can get quite as much sea 
 as I want in crossing from Dover." 
 
 " Mr. Plimpton says," continued Frank, " that Lord Rayneford 
 is somewhere in England. He is entirely satisfied about that. He 
 has some detective fellow prowling all over the island. But I forgot ! 
 that is a secret. I played the king, sir. Three honours in my own 
 hand. That is game." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Brentam, rising, " I am going into the library, 
 if you will excuse me. You and Mildred can play cribbage." 
 
 But the younger gentleman preferred a cheroot out on the lawn, 
 and Miss Carey was kind enough to accompany him, and endure the 
 detestable odour. There were sundry matters relating to his Indian 
 experience that interested her. When they were comfortably seated, 
 Frank being to leeward, she adroitly drew out the information she 
 sought. 
 
 " You wrote me that you and your friend had drawn lots for 
 the ladies," she began, " and I think you said you won the 
 elder?" 
 
 " Ya-as !" drawled her cousin, " that is very true, Milly. But 
 Rayneford is a flirt ! No constancy about the fellow !" 
 
 " Oh, then ! he began with attentions." 
 
 "No," interrupted Frank, "not that exactly, either. He did 
 not draw lots. But I made him choose between Juliet and Haidee 
 before we had seen them. I can't say he selected Haidee ; he only 
 rejected t'other angel. At that time I thought Juliet as the elder 
 would be most likely to inherit Castledane. I don't mind telling 
 you, Milly, that my heart has been set on Castledane for ever so 
 long. I went all over the property ten years ago. And when I 
 met the colonel in Calcutta, I thought it was quite providential." 
 And he blew away a cloud of smoke and fell into pious meditation. 
 Mildred waited. 
 
 " Rayneford is a sort of woman-hater !" he continued ; " that is, 
 he has a lot of romantic ideas about the sacredness of marriage, the 
 necessity for undying mutual attachment, the meanness of taking a 
 young woman who happens to be encumbered with tin." 
 
 "Tin?" 
 
 "Yes. Tin, loot, money," explained Daltraan. "Hamishand 
 he read me an awful moral lecture on the subject. They were thick 
 
DISINTERESTED AFFECTIONS. 207 
 
 as thieves, inseparable in fact, and I did not see as much of Rayne- 
 ford after wo went to the hills." 
 
 " But you did not go," said Miss Carey ; " you wrote uncle an 
 account of Mr. IWneford's departure, and said something about his 
 wound healing. Wliat wound?" 
 
 " lie got a scratch in a tussle with a tiger," answered Frank ; 
 " we were all in the mess, Glendare and I, but Rayneford was armed 
 and we were not. The brute leaped at him, and as he was not 
 accustomed to the use of weapons, he was clumsy, and got a bad 
 scratch." 
 
 If it had happened that Mr. Daltman encountered that tiger 
 instead of Hyland, it is not at all probable that he would have 
 recounted the adventure in after-life. Some such thought occurred 
 to him. 
 
 " But I must say," he went on, " Rayneford showed no end of 
 jiluck ! He stood his ground, and killed the beast. And it was a 
 royal man-eater, too ! 
 
 "I tell you, Milly!" he continued, after a pause, "that adven- 
 ture was unlucky for me ! The girls were present, and Rayneford 
 has been a kind of demigod in their eyes ever since. Haidee espe- 
 cially holds him in reverence ! I should not care if the fellow had 
 any heart. But he is callous as a stone ! It would be an immola- 
 tion for a sensible girl like Haidee Mordaunt to be married to 
 a cold-blooded fellow like Rayneford ! It makes me shudder to 
 think of it!" 
 
 " But you are surely needlessly distressed," said Mildred. " You 
 say he cares for no woman. Miss Mordaunt will hardly marry him 
 against his will." 
 
 " He has never seen her," said Daltman ; " I mean since she has 
 come out. She used to go about the bungalow with her head tied 
 up in a sack. After he went to the mountains she was cured of her 
 neuralgia, and she suddenly bloomed into a beautiful woman. I did 
 not notice her particularly until we were at sea. She is always 
 swallowed up in some infernal romance, and Miss Mordaunt was 
 rather exacting, and — and, I did not dream that Haidee would 
 inherit Castledane until recently." 
 
 Mildred laughed at this last sally, blurted out with rare honesty. 
 
 " Your disinterested attachment — to Castledane, is quite touching, 
 Frank ! But I am still at a loss to account for your disquietude. 
 Your formidable rival is at the other side of the world " 
 
 " Ah, but I don't know that !" said Frank. " Another ship was 
 
208 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 to follow the ' Lord Clive' in a few days, and it is possible that Hy- 
 land may come in her. In fact, both Haidee and Juliet expect him." 
 
 "Why should he decline your company, and then come at last?" 
 
 "Just like him !" ejaculat€d Frank. " It does not seem reason- 
 able to expect him, yet he may come." 
 
 "And if he does?" 
 
 " Then he will see Haidee ! And then — good-bye to Castledane !" 
 
 "Really, Frank," said Miss Carey, with some asperity, "you are 
 an enigma! You have everything in your favour. You are upon 
 terms of particular intimacy with the lady. You have a hundred 
 opportunities. You are far more eligible " 
 
 " Ah, Milly ! will you help me? I need your woman's wit." 
 
 " How much money is Castledane worth ?" said Mildred, mis- 
 chievously. 
 
 " Castledane be blowed ! I tell you I could get spoony about 
 that girl in a week. Now hear the whole truth. If I knew Haidee 
 Mordaunt had not a shilling in the world, I should court her with 
 all my powers. She has laid a spell upon me. And the devil has 
 made her prefer Rayneford. I cannot tell you how I know that, 
 but I do know it. Will you help me ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It is a compact, then," said Frank, " and now I will tell you my 
 plan. She is full of romance. Any fellow who would put on a lot 
 of armour, and go gallopping over the country, and run his head into 
 danger on her account could get her. I am going to rescue her, by 
 Jove!" 
 
 "From what?" 
 
 " I don't know yet. I must think about it. I will " 
 
 " Frank," said Mr. Brentam, from the library window, " have you 
 seen the pajier ?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Well, here is a bit of news. The 'Congo' arrived yesterday, 
 bringing late news from the Cape. The ' Bengal,' from Calcutta, 
 sailed on the 10th, with one passenger, Mr. Hyland Rayneford. 
 She will arrive withiri a week. Better come in. It is damp out 
 there." 
 
 " Did I not tell you ?" said Frank, as they went in. " My pro- 
 phetic soul warned me! W^hat next, Milly?" 
 
 " Wait," she answered ; " the * Bengal' has not arrived yet." 
 
THE START. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 The Start. 
 
 YERY soon after the mysterious (lisa]>pea ranee of Lord Rayne- 
 ford, his kinsman, Mr. IMimpton, decided to employ tlie de- 
 tective, Mr. Dancer, who had distinguished himself several times in 
 the service of Mr. Plimpton's legal firm. He had uneartiied two or 
 three frauds of large j)roportions in a celebrated will case; had re- 
 covered certain stolen documents that were hopelessly lost, and vir- 
 tually gained the case for the clients of Plimpton and Plunger. It 
 was not strange, therefore, that the senior partner had great confi- 
 dence in Mr. Dancer's abilities. And as he was at this time on a 
 cold scent, hunting an absconding cashier whose testimony was all- 
 important to the firm, Mr. Plimpton added the search of Rayneford 
 on ins private account. 
 
 The effect of this double commission was to keep Mr. Dancer in 
 perpetual motion. When in York, for example, and quite warm 
 on the track of Mr. Nokes, the missing cashier, the detective would 
 suddenly obtain some scrap of information that seemed to promise 
 the recovery of the missing nobleman. And, travelling all night, 
 he would take breakfast at the Queen Hotel, in Belfast, the next 
 morning. After running this clue to earth, and, as the reader knows, 
 without result, he would start for Plymouth on an errand similarly 
 fruitless. The travelling expenses of Mr. Dancer, which were paid 
 by Plimpton and Plunger, kept the head clerk of the firm in a half- 
 frantic state of mind, as he was obliged to analyse the account of 
 outlays and distribute the expense among the clients " in interest." 
 
 It was some stray scrap of information from Ilfracombe, about a 
 half-drunken mariner who had spoken of " Rayneford," that took 
 Mr. Dancer to that village. It happened that he encountered Mr. 
 Jones, as already recorded in a previous chapter, and the mysterious 
 obstinacy of the sailor, and his sudden departure in the " Ripple," 
 convinced Mr. Dancer that he was at last on the right track. His 
 course was plain enough now. He had only to keep the ex-mate in 
 sight and wait developments. So he telegraphed Mr. Plimpton that 
 he had a promising clue, and announced his intention to remain a 
 few days at Milford. He was very much discomfited the next day 
 by the receipt of a despatch from Mr. Plimpton, requesting his 
 imme<liate presence at Clifton on urgent business. 
 
 He found the lawyer at one of the hotels, in company with Dr. 
 
 14 
 
210 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Leigh. The urgent business was the recovery of a lost young lady, 
 who had disappeared unaccountably the previous day. She was a 
 stranger in England, having very few acquaintances in the country, 
 and there was no conceivable motive to induce her voluntary disap- 
 pearance. Her father, his client, Colonel Mordaunt, had just ar- 
 rived with his family from India, and he was the only person who 
 knew her that had not been consulted about her. The colonel was 
 an invalid, and the fact of her disappearance was concealed from him 
 by the doctor's advice. 
 
 Mr. Dancer listened to this account without winking: his ferret 
 eyes, and noted in his memorandum-book the chief points in the 
 story. 
 
 " Now, gents," said Mr. Dancer, " please answer one or two ques- 
 tions. How old is the lady ?" 
 
 " Twenty." 
 
 " Where was she positively seen last ?" 
 
 " I left her at the door of this hotel," answered the doctor, " and 
 I saw her turn the comer and walk towards the Observatory on the 
 Downs. Then I went in, examined rooms, ordered dinner, drove to 
 Bristol in a cab, and returned before dark. She had not been here 
 at all." 
 
 " Did anybody else see her ?" said Mr. Dancer. 
 
 " The porter who took our luggage in saw her a few minutes after 
 she went on the Downs. She was near the Observatory." 
 
 " Was anybody else there? Was she talking to any one?" 
 
 '•'■ No. Nobody was on the Downs except a travelling photog- 
 rapher, who was taking views." 
 
 " Who is he ? What does he say ?" 
 
 " He is gone. Probably driving about the surrounding country 
 taking pictures." 
 
 '* Have you looked for him ?" enquired Mr. Dancer. 
 
 " Not specially." 
 
 " All right, gents ; I'll report to you in the morning." And Mr. 
 Dancer bobbed his red head, Avinked his red eyes, and departed. 
 
 Out on the broad Downs, prowling around the Observatory, peer- 
 ing into the eyes of every person he met. An old woman seated on 
 a stool, having a rough table covered with a newspaper, and exposing 
 bits of polished stone for sale. Geological specimens from St. Vin- 
 cent Rocks, in the shape of paper-weights, worth about a penny a 
 bushel, and selling at a shilling each. It is a fine evening, but 
 yonder is a man with a cloak on his shoulders. Hi ! It is the very 
 
THE START. 211 
 
 foreign savage he saw at Ilfracombe, going out into the Channel with 
 the tjjruir oUl s:iilor. What is lie up to? lie just sh)uehes about, 
 looking at the people. He don't notice women or chiUlren, but 
 watches all the men. By-the-bye, he does not seem to see Mr. 
 Dancer. Can hardly call that slouching, either. His step is even, 
 and rather stately. His head erect, and his body straight as a pole. 
 Now he steps aside in the damp grass, to allow a little party of chil- 
 dren p:\ssage on the path. The heathen bows like a courtier. 
 
 There comes the moon, and the sun has just disappeared behind 
 the western hills. And here comes tiie foreign gent, marching 
 straight down the path, and facing the moon. His eye — he has 
 only one eye — fixed in steadfast scrutiny ujion the ferret eyes of 
 Mr. Dancer. It is rather jolly now. Here is a savage that the 
 detective has been shadowing in desultory fasiiion for a day or two, 
 and the swift conviction flashes upon the mind of Mr. Dancer that 
 the heathen is perhaps shadowing him. Better accost him. 
 
 "Fine night," said Mr. Dancer, as the Indian reached him. "It 
 will be cooler in an hour." 
 
 "Sahib Rayneford?" answered the Hindoo, cautiously. "You 
 look for Sahib Rayneford. Find him?" 
 
 "Oh, ah!" said Mr. Dancer, cautiously; "you are looking for 
 Lord Rayneford, are you? When did you see him last?" 
 
 " Yon look last night," replied Zeba; " look in ale house; look on 
 pier when boat sail away ; look on pier at Milford ; look up two 
 streets; look behind bales and casks. What want?" 
 
 " Suppose we go down this court ?" said Mr. Dancer. " There is 
 good beer in a house I knoM'. I'll stand a pot." 
 
 " Thanks, sahib," said Zeba; " no want beer. Promenade down 
 river. Promenade across bridge. Sahib go get beer and come 
 back." 
 
 "This looks like business," thought Mr. Dancer; "he wants to 
 get rid of me. No harm in killing two birds with one stone. I'll 
 work up this case a bit. When did you come here, friend?" 
 
 "Came with sahib in train." 
 
 " And Jones ?" said Mr. Dancer, suddenly. " AVhat have you 
 done with Mr. Jones?" 
 
 "Ah! sahib know Jones? ' Jones much drink rum. Too much 
 drunk. Jones in Milford." And, with a bow of dismissal, Zeba 
 turned away, catching the arm of a new-comer who brushed by them, 
 and putting an interval of ten yards between Mr. Dancer and him- 
 self before the detective recovered from his surprise. 
 
212 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Salaam, sahib!'' whispered Zeba; "thief behind. Look for 
 Lord Hyland. Ask nie much question." 
 
 " Zeba !" said Hyhmd, astoni.shed. " How did you find me ?" 
 
 "With tulwar," answered Zeba, simply. "Find Beebe with 
 tulwar. Safe. Lord Hyland come get Beebe? Out on the sea." 
 
 " What!" said Hyland, clutching his arm, "do you mean the lady 
 Haidee?" 
 
 " Yes. Beebe Haidee out on the sea ! Tulwar find her. Come !" 
 
 Crossing the high bridge with such enormous strides tiiat Mr. 
 Dancer, trotting behind them, was quite blown, they paused at a 
 cottage door. There were tall trees along the roadside, shading the 
 path and hiding him, and when the door was opened, he was near 
 enougii to hear the voice of the old woman who oi)ened at their 
 knock — " Mr. Robinson !" 
 
 " It is I, Mrs. Noils," said Hyland. " I want Tommy." 
 
 " He is in the stable, sir. Walk in, and I'll fetch the key." 
 
 " Stable ?" said Zeba, in a whisper, " horse ? Too slow ! Sahib 
 take train on river-bank. Catch steamship at Mendon, where river 
 grow large. Steamship get Milford when moon high in sky. Get 
 Beebe before sun come back. Come !" 
 
 While Mr. Dancer crouched down on the roadside in the shadow, 
 tiie two men came racing out from the cottage, and passed him. The 
 heathen's cloak blew aside, and the detective saw the long sword 
 strajiped up to his left breast, his hand resting on the hilt. 
 
 " Desperate burglars, murderers, and savages!" said Mr. Dancer, 
 rising, and watching them as they sped across the bridge; " but I'll 
 know '.m. And now to see what is in the house." So saying, he 
 entered the enclosure, and knocked at the door just closed. A placid- 
 faced old woman opened, holding up a lamp, and peering at him 
 through her spectacles. 
 
 " Sorry to disturb you again, Mrs. Noils," said he, " but Mr. 
 Robinson left a paper, and sent me back for it." 
 
 " Walk in, sir !" replied the landlady ; " he was only at the door. 
 Did he drop it ?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" answered Mr. Dancer, readily ; " it is somewhere about 
 his room. Lend me your lamp, please. I can find it." And he 
 passed in with easy confidence. 
 
 Meantime, Hyland and Zeba descended the bank to the railway 
 station. Zeba had gained accurate information about trains and 
 connections. The train about to start would reach Mendon as soon 
 as the Milford steamer, which had left Bristol two hours earlier. 
 
THE START. 213 
 
 Tliov obtainoil tickets for Miltonl, and entered the first little tunnel, 
 while Mr. Dancer was industriously searching for the lost "paper." 
 
 Hvlaiid had spent the entire day in seckinii; some information 
 about the "Ariadne." He had witnessed the abduction of Ilaiilee, 
 and had seen the name of the schooner, as she passed down the river 
 on the previous day. He had a vague idea that some villainy was 
 afo(»t, but was perplexed when he discovered that Miss Carey was an 
 apparent partv to the abduction. The object of his visit to Bath 
 was to see Colonel ^lonlaunt and tell him the whole story, little 
 dreaming that Haidee w'as enwrapped in the bundle of shawls he had 
 seen on the deck of the " Ariadne." His subsequent discoveries came 
 in rapid succession. First, the arrival of JNIildred at Bath in his 
 own train. Second, the information he gained at his interview with 
 her. Third, the fact that Haidee Mordaunt had disappeared, and 
 the swift conclusion that she had been carried off by the schooner ; 
 and la.st, the identity of Haidee with the maiden whose picture he 
 had in his breast. 
 
 Then came the prompt impulse to find and rescue her, and he and 
 Glendare had gathered all that could be learned about the schooner 
 at the Bristol docks, and this was very meagre information. A 
 stupid clerk at a shipping office only knew she had sailed for Cork. 
 She had brought a cargo to Bristol from some Spanish port, and 
 she went to Cork in ballast. He parted from Glendare at the hotel 
 in Clifton, and encountered Zeba a few minutes later, on the Downs. 
 
 He had eaten nothing during the day, and when the little steamer 
 left the dock at Mendon, he and Zeba obtained a substantial supper 
 in the dining-saloon. With the after-supper cheroot, Hyland's 
 faculties recovered their normal tone, and as he and the Indian paced 
 the narrow forecastle, Hyland began to be conscious that he was 
 being led by the most absurd of superstition or humbug, and to 
 doubt his own sanity. 
 
 "Tell me, Zeba," he said, leaning against the capstan, and looking 
 steadilv at the sober face of the Hindoo, "how did you hapj)en to 
 findBeebe?" 
 
 " Not happen," replied the Indian, composedly. " Hunting sahib's 
 brother. Ask tulwar. Tulwar say to Milford go. Find Jones at 
 Ilfracombe, and sail in his little ship to Milford. Jones sleep and 
 I sing. The song of tulwar sing. Big ship sail past while I sing, 
 and Bcebe sing back to me. Nobody know song of tulwar but Beebe 
 and warrior. Ask tulwar next day, when sun come. Tulwar say 
 to Linton Sands go. Find light-house there, and sing again. Sing 
 
214 TUE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 not same song ; but sing Be^be wait till Lord of tulwar come. Tliat 
 Sahib Hyland. Then to Clifton go. Ask tulwar where Sahib Hy- 
 land find ? Tulwar say, Clifton. Jones want drunk. Go Clifton 
 and find sahib. That all." 
 
 '• But you were not hunting Beebe," said Hyland. 
 
 " No !" answered Zeba, thoughtfully. " I go Milford to find 
 sahib's brother. But tulwar know Beebe on ship. Tulwar must 
 serve Lord of tulwar." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 "No. Myself not understand. Sahib Lord of tulwar. Sahib 
 must be Lord of Beebe too!" 
 
 Hyland felt the warm blood rushing to his forehead. Despising 
 himself for the weakness, he was still conscious of a tlirill that shook 
 his frame, and seemed to shake the solid capstan. With a shame- 
 facedness that he could neither justify nor resist, he changed the topic. 
 
 " And when will you find my brother ?" 
 
 " Tulwar will show," answered Zeba, tapping the hilt ; " get Beebe 
 first, then sahib's brother find." 
 
 It was near midnight when Mr. Flellen, who occupied the upper 
 floor of the ex-mate's domicile, admitted Hyland and Zeba. They 
 found Mr. Jones spread out upon the cot in a state of happy uncon- 
 sciousness. There was a fine aroma in the room, compounded of 
 Jamaica rum and tobacco-smoke. He was deaf when awake and 
 sober. He was totally oblivious when asleep and drunk. 
 
 " Good drunk !" said Zeba, after a vain effort to arouse the sleeper. 
 " Not wake till sun come. Sahib take boat and get Be^be." 
 
 " This is madness !" said Hyland. " Who can guide us to the 
 light-house ?" 
 
 " Zeba," answered the Indian. " Sahib not fear ! Come !" And 
 he took down the key from the wall. ''Unlock boat. Sail put up. 
 Know all the way. Come ! Sahib put on Jones's coat and hat. 
 Jones's son have light-house. Maybe get Beebe without kill. Son 
 
 think Jones come back. If he find sahib not father " He drew 
 
 the tulwar out a few inches and drove it back into the scabbard with 
 an ominous click. 
 
 The moon was directly overhead as the " Ripple" glided out of 
 the narrow dock. Hyland sat on the after-thwart, holding the sheet, 
 •while Zeba steered. They had to tack once to pass a yacht anchored 
 in the stream. As the " Ripple" luffed up, almost under her bows, 
 Hyland heard the clank of the capstan bars as the anchor was hoisted 
 in, and saw jib and mainsail rise in the bright moonlight. 
 
A PROPOSAL. 215 
 
 " Boat ahoy !" came the hail from the yacht. There was no re- 
 sponse, and the little fishing-boat slipped away as the larger vessel 
 slowly moved in the light breeze. 
 
 " No use to hail," said a voice from the waist of the yacht. " It 
 is old Jones. Deef as a log ! Belay there and up witii the foresail ! 
 Never heed Jones. He will keep out of our way. He can see 
 prime if he is deef." 
 
 CHAPTEll XXXVI. 
 A Proposal. 
 
 COLONEL MORDAUNT found Castledane in a dilapidated 
 condition. The great park had been neglected for twenty 
 years. The mansion had been rented to a succession of tenants, who 
 had not improved the appearance of the property. The agent made 
 no repairs that could be avoided, the owner was at the antipodes, 
 and one tenant after another vacated the house, which was in charge 
 of a kee])er when the family arrived in England. The young ladies 
 were charmed with the natural beauties of the grounds, and especially 
 delighted with the ivy-grown ruin that gave the name to the estate. 
 That was to remain in its rugged wildness, but extensive inroads 
 upon the colonel's stock of rupees had been projected at their first 
 hasty visit. 
 
 The day following Mr. Daltman's confessions to his cousin found 
 that gentleman at Bath. The colonel and his daughters had driven 
 over to Castle Dane with an architect from London. Mr. Daltman, 
 if he arrived, was to follow, and join the party at luncheon alfresco 
 at the ruin. 
 
 He found the party exploring the mansion, which was quite an- 
 cient, though more recent than Castle Dane. It had been erected 
 in the days of the Virgin Queen, when the Mordaunts were prosper- 
 ous courtiers, but had suffered at the hands of the soldiers of the 
 Commonwealth. From that time to the beginning of the present 
 century the Mordaunts had been poor and proud, and the first rep- 
 resentative of the line who might be called rich was the present 
 owner, who had held lucrative offices in India, and was entirely able 
 to restore the ancient inheritance to its original grandeur. And as 
 Daltman, following them from room to room, overheard the discus- 
 sions between the colonel and the architect, he gradually reached the 
 
216 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 conclusion that his host had "lacs, no end." His own inheritance, 
 with its late addition, made him quite eligible, however, and the 
 uppermost thought in his beneficent mind was, that he had better 
 secure one of the two ladies for himself before some enterprising 
 countryman should also learn the financial dimensions of his pro- 
 posed father-in-law. He observed that the colonel always paid 
 special attention to any suggestion from Haidee touching the pro- 
 jected improvements. This confirmed his conclusion that Haidee 
 was the true heiress of Castle Dane. 
 
 The park in the neighbourhood of the ruined castle had been 
 severely left to nature, and was consequently " lovely," as the ladies 
 asserted. After luncheon, when the rest of the party returned to 
 the grounds near tiie mansion to inspect the stables and coach-houses, 
 Mr. Daltman begged Haidee to remain and explore the surround- 
 ings, offering to forego his cigar. The quick-witted maiden had 
 divined his purpose to make serious proposals to herself, and quietly 
 consented. They had taken their mid-day repast under a giant 
 oak, which was reproduced in Mr. Robinson's first photograph a day 
 or two later, and they were seated upon very old-fashioned chaii's, 
 which had been brought from the dining-room at the mansion for 
 this special occasion. 
 
 " I am not going into the park, please," said Haidee ; " it is too 
 pleasant here. The view is beautiful, and these old chairs are far 
 nicer than bits of stone and roots of trees." 
 
 " But I want to see the wood," expostulated Daltman. 
 
 " Ah ! Well, I will wait for you. I have been all through it 
 once." 
 
 " But I don't want to see it without — that is, alone," said Dalt- 
 man. " I cannot tell what should be admired. You see, I have been 
 in the jungle of late years." 
 
 "' It is not as pretty as the jungle," said Haidee. 
 
 "So you keep up your attachment to India?" said Daltman. 
 " You surely would not go back ?" 
 
 " Yes. If papa and Juliet went." 
 
 "But Castledane?" said Daltman. "Do you feel no attachment 
 to Castledane ?" 
 
 "Yes. I should like to live here always. It is more beautiful 
 than I expected to find it. I am quite impatient to see it in winter." 
 
 " I have almost decided not to go back," said Daltman, after a 
 pause. " I have a little place in Essex, and I think of settling 
 down, and quitting the army." 
 
A PROPOSAL. 217 
 
 "And go into Parliament?" said Haidee. 
 
 "Pei'linps. lint I must ivlin<inisli my baclielorhood. A fellow 
 is notliiiii;- in Parliament without a wife. And I feel" — putting as 
 mueh pathos into his tones as he could command — " quite lonely. 
 A fellow's life is wasted so long as he is single." 
 
 Haidee did not reply. She had eaten a liberal supply of salad, 
 and had imbibed some beer, and was drowsy. 
 
 " Perhaps yon — perhaps I had better stick to the army ?" said 
 Daltman, after some reflection. "You would think so, I suppose, 
 as the colonel " 
 
 "Army?" said Haidee, rousing herself. "Oh, no! I am going 
 to make pai)a retire on half-pay." 
 
 "Ah, then!" said Daltman, eagerly, "we are agreed thus far. 
 Now about matrimony. Don't you think I might venture to 
 marry ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " You know I am not at all exacting," continued Daltman, trying 
 to recall some of Glendare's postulates. " Marriage is a very serious 
 business." 
 
 " Yes," said Haidee, nodding, partly in acquiescence and partly 
 from somnolency. 
 
 "Very serious! No fellow should marry until he — until he has 
 fully weighed the responsibilities. Should he make a mistake, and 
 get the wrong young woman, there would be no end of a mess, you 
 know." 
 
 "You might take a middle-aged lady," observed Haidee, M-ho 
 had actually caught a dozen winks, and had heard the last remark 
 imperfectly. 
 
 " I wish you would tell me what you think about love and matri- 
 mony, ^liss Haidee. You know you have read such a lot of books 
 about that business, and I am entirely green. I only know there is 
 a depth of devotion, and all that sort of thing. Of course! Very 
 proper! I am sure I am capable of undying devotion, if encour- 
 aged. There is no fellow in England more easily satisfied than I 
 would be. All I would ask would be a — a sympathising heart, 
 you know. My estate is quite respectable, and no doubt I could 
 take ray pick of — that is — I mean I would not be rejected as ineli- 
 gible. But the heart ! the heart ! Ah ! one may control everything 
 else, but his aflfections once fixed on the beloved object! If his 
 hopes are wrecked, it is — a dreadful sell ! Will you please give me 
 your oj)inion ?" 
 
218 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " My opinion ?" replied Haidec. " I have not formed one, Mr. 
 Daltman." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Excuse me, but you must have some theory about 
 love '' 
 
 " Yes," answered Haidee, coolly ; " but you would not understand 
 it, Mr. Daltman. Let us go see how they will remodel the stables." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Daltman, " and hear me out. I am sate to 
 make a mess, I know, but you will forgive me. If I had only read 
 up a little more on this subject ! But I can learn. Miss Haidee, 
 if you could only give me the least bit of encouragement, I would 
 kneel at your feet " 
 
 '* Pray don't !" said Haidee, rising. " John spilled some oil there 
 when he was dressing the salad." She moved away, and he caught 
 her hand and detained her. She looked round at him composedly, 
 but with a little more colour in her cheek than usual. 
 
 " Pardon me again," he said, humbly ; " my awkwardness is 
 shameful, I know. But I am in dead earnest. Miss Haidee. I will 
 do anything you wish. I will wait as long as you say. I will never 
 oppose your preferences, and I will swear to make no complaints. 
 Do not say no without reflection. You think I will be exacting and 
 capricious and unreasonable. I swear to you " 
 
 " Pray don't swear at all, Mr. Daltman," said she, withdrawing 
 her hand ; " I am quite flattered by all you say, but I'd rather go 
 look at the stables." 
 
 " What the devil ought a fellow do ?" said Daltman, despairingly. 
 " I am quite ready to prove my sincerity, if you will only say the 
 ■word. I have set my heart upon this — upon you, and you throw 
 me over without mercy. Will you marry me — upon any terms you 
 like? Settle your property — every penny of it upon yourself — yes 
 — and mine too! every penny of it! Only say I may hope!" 
 
 " Mr. Daltman," said Haidee, slowly and with stately dignity, " I 
 am very sorry I allowed you to say all this. Forget it, and I will 
 forget it, and no one in the world will know. You seem to be so 
 earnest that I cannot believe you are not sincere. But there is no 
 possibility " 
 
 " Please don't, Haidee !" said he, eagerly — " please don't say the 
 final word yet ! Please wait until to-morrow — next week ! Only 
 wait ! Something may turn up. I may have the chance to prove 
 my devotion. Grant me only this. I will not ask for anything but 
 delay. Heavens ! How can you be so cruel as to tear a fellow's 
 heart up into bits and then trample on it?" 
 
A PROPOSAL. 219 
 
 " It is not probable that I shall ever marry," said Haidee, as they 
 walked away. '' 1 could not marry unless the man I called lord 
 were nobler than any ideal I have formed. I have never read in 
 
 books any description of the man I could marry " 
 
 « Is there no such man on the earth?" said Daltman, jealously. 
 " I do not know," she answered, with perfect comi)osure ; " but I 
 am certain he is not among my acquaintances. All you have said 
 about hearts broken and trodden down I have read. It is quite 
 pretty, but— excuse me— it is your word, you know— bosh !" 
 He staggered as if hit by a bullet. 
 " I am quite willing to believe you are disappointed. Nay, I am 
 
 willing to believe you prefer me to any other woman you know 
 
 " That is true as gospel 1" he said. 
 
 "Well, I thank you for the compliment then. And show the 
 sincerity of your attlichment by granting my request." 
 " Any request of yours is law to me," he said. 
 " Then let this be our last conversation upon this subject. You 
 need never refer to it to me or to others. I certainly shall not 
 remind you of it. We have been very good friends. Let us fall 
 back into our old relations." 
 
 " You seem ten years older," said Daltman, " since I began this 
 talk, and ten years wiser, and ten thousand times more attractive. I 
 have been a rash fool, and destroyed my chances by my unseemly haste. 
 If I had known you better, I should have been more circumspect. 
 I should have made my approaches in more courtly fashion. But I 
 was afraid some other 'fellow would see you, and win you before I 
 had spoken, and so I rushed headlong to my own destruction." 
 
 " Do not think so, Mr. Daltman," said Haidee, as they drew near 
 the stables. " It would not have been more impossible to marry 
 you, if I had been already married, or already buried ! Excuse me, 
 please ! I say this to relieve your mind. You have thrown away 
 no chance. Do not think so. You never had the ghost of a chance 
 to throw away. Your mode of address made no sort of difference. 
 If you were king of England it would not alter the case. Excuse 
 me again !" And she stopped in the path and faced him, with fearless 
 grey\yes, full of truth and gentleness. " You have laboured to 
 convince me that you would be entirely satisfied with me, and would 
 not exact too much. But it has not occurred to you to enquire 
 whether / might not exact more than you could render ! With all 
 your excellent qualities— and doubtless you have many— you have 
 one fatal fault. You are selfish !" 
 
220 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " I suppose so," said Daltman, gloomily ; " all men are selfish." 
 
 " Then I shall never marry," answered Haidee ; " and let that 
 content you. I do not even say you are more selfi.>^h than other men, 
 or more selfish than all humanity. But I shall never marry a selfish 
 man !" 
 
 *' If the old times would come back again !" said Daltman, speak- 
 ing through his teeth, " when deeds of valour counted, when patient 
 endurance found a reward, when long exile awakened pity^ — " 
 
 " Bosh again !" said Haidee ; " excuse me ! But don't you see that 
 your persistence is the proof of all I have said ? Knightly valour 
 counted for nothing unless the valour was beneficent ! Patient 
 endurance never found a reward when the reward was })ayment for 
 the endurance." 
 
 " It seems to me," said Daltman, sullenly, "that you are full of 
 romantic notions that every day's experience should dispel. Do vou 
 suppose any man in the world would seek to marry any woman in 
 the world merely for lier sake? It is because you are necessarv to 
 my happiness that I sought you ! AVhy should I attemj)t to deceive 
 you by so shallow a pretense as an unselfish affection. There is no 
 such thing on earth. It is a contradiction in terms. You have heard 
 the absurd stuff that Glendare and Rayneford used to formulate 
 last year ! It is the same idle dream, of unselfish devotion !" 
 
 Ah, Mr. Daltman ! That was a very unfortunate speech ! While 
 Haidee turns that pleasant smile upon you, it is not you she smiles at. 
 
 "Come, Mr. Daltman," she said, "let us go in. I hear papa's 
 voice. " But do not delude yourself by supposing I have learned 
 my theories from ^Ir. Glendare or any one else. I never heard a 
 word spoken on the subject by any one. I never read it in foolish 
 romances. All that I think on the subject of marriage I have gotten 
 from one Book — the Holy Scriptures !" 
 
 " Why !" said Daltman, startled, " that is precisely what those 
 fellows said last summer !" 
 
 Oh, blockhead! 
 
 "Haidee!" said Colonel Mordaunt's voice, "are you there?" 
 
 "Yes, papa." 
 
 " You must have been asleep ! Come round to the door." 
 
 " I think I have been asleep once or twice. It was the salad." 
 
 "Asleep!" murmured Daltman, lighting his cigar, and walking 
 away. " Asleep ! Well, that is positive mendacity ! I wonder if 
 she learned that in the Bible, too! What a beautiful little devil 
 f-he is ! I'll not relinquish her, by Jove !" 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 The Abduction. 
 
 HAIDKE was impatient to soc Clifton Downs. Dr. Lei*;!) was 
 going to Menclon by the Bristol steamer, iintl coming back by 
 rail, and would spend a day or two in Clifton. So a letter was sent 
 to St. Vincent's Hotel to secure rooms. In due time they reached 
 Clifton, and after climbing the Zigzag, the doctor proceeded to the 
 hotel, charged with the bestowal of the luggage, and with an order 
 for dinner at six, at which time Haidee promised to present herself. 
 Then she walked out upon the wide Downs. 
 
 The Observatory iirst. She was going to inspect it carefully, and 
 then cross the bridge. There was a photographer near the Observa- 
 tory, crawling around his tripod half asleep. His wagon, drawn by 
 a glossy pony, was rather in the way, l)ut she walked by. The pony 
 looked good-natured and winked lazily at her, and she put out her 
 hand and patted his neck. Then she peeped over his back to see if 
 the owner had noticed her. But he had buried his head in a yard 
 of black velvet and was adjusting his camera. So she passed on 
 and surveyed the structure with great deliberation. The photog- 
 rapher was still " under a cloud," jerking the tripod al)out, and turn- 
 ing screws back and forward in a half-somnolent fashion. How 
 tiresome the man was! Then she saw a placard announcing a grand 
 display of fireworks at "the Gardens" at nine o'clock sharp. She 
 would make Dr. Leigh take her, and she carefully read the list of 
 attractions, standing still as the Observatory behind her. A few 
 seconds were enough, and in those few seconds the artist had with- 
 drawn the slide, uncovered the camera, counted fifty, and thrown the 
 velvet cloth over the instrument. While he was fumbling about the 
 tripml, she turned away, repassed the pony, who remembered her and 
 winked again, and who received another gentle ])at. Then she 
 strayed on to the bridge, and leaning on the parapet, looked down 
 the Avon, admiring the hills on either side. 
 
 Here comes the photographer. He is lolling indolently on the 
 seat, not driving at all ! The pony is master of the situation. The 
 reins are twisted around the whip, and the driver is asleep and 
 smoking. Look at the smoke coming through his thick beard ! 
 No ! he is not asleep ! He straightens his body up — he looks like a 
 gentleman — he lifts his hat as he passes her with a courtly bow. 
 
 Sir Hyland ! All bearded and bronzetl, but undoubtedly Sir 
 
222 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Hyland. And he does not know her. He never looks back — not 
 once! 
 
 She walks back to the Downs, recklessly sacrificing the sixpence 
 she had paid to " cross the bridge and return." Why did he not 
 recognise her? When she saw him last he was thin and feeble, 
 wearing a well-trimmed moustache. Now, his face is covered with 
 a lovely beard, and he looks strong enough to lift the Observatory. 
 He does not know that he cured her neuralgia. Some day she will 
 tell him in strict confidence. 
 
 Three o'clock. Plenty of time to spare. She will go down the 
 river and see the Carpen Rocks. Mr. Glendare mentioned them as 
 curious geological formations. And Mr. Daltman was quite eloquent 
 about them yesterday. By-the-bye, Mr. Daltman had entirely re- 
 covered from his late attack of tenderness. The Rocks were a short 
 mile from the Observatory. She can see them already. 
 
 What a pretty river ! Here comes a schooner down, passing 
 under the bridge. She will reach the Carpen Rocks before it is 
 abreast. There are two men on the bank, with a quantity of shawls 
 on their arms. One of them has tied his handkerchief to his cane 
 and waves it high above his head. She had better go back, as there 
 are no people about here. Yes ! there is a lady at the base of the 
 Rocks. It would be absurd to go back without seeing them. The 
 two men are going — no, they are coming. And the lady is beyond 
 them. Here they come. Honest-looking men. 
 
 " Beg pardon, miss !" said the foremost, touching his cap. " Miss 
 Mordauut ?" 
 
 " Yes." The lady is approaching with rapid steps. 
 
 " Then it's all rig^ht, miss !" said the man. " The colonel is aboard 
 the schooner, and sent us for you. See ! the boat is coming ashore." 
 
 " The colonel !" said Haidee, drawing back. " There is some 
 mistake." 
 
 " No mistake, miss !" replied the man, shaking out a shawl and 
 throwing it suddenly over her head. " Don't be alarmed, miss. 
 Nothing will harm you. Only we must take you aboard ! Put 
 another shawl on, Bill ! She may squeal ! Hurry, stoopid !" 
 
 Almost smothered and entirely helpless, the shawls bound over 
 her arms, she feels the men lift her from the ground and beiir her 
 swiftly away. And while bewildered and half unconscious from 
 fright, she still knows she is on the boat, is lifted up on the vessel, 
 and laid upon the deck. She makes one struggle to free herself, 
 but is picked up again and carried a few steps down into the cabin. 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 223 
 
 Then she hears the hatch close with a snap, and tlic click of the 
 capstan as the anchor is raised. 
 
 " Now, miss," said a voice neiir her, " if you will promise to make 
 no noise, I'll take off the shawls and trust you. Please hold up 
 your hand if you promise and meiin fair." 
 
 IShe held her hand up prom[)tly, and in a moment was freed from 
 the smothering wrappings. She took in the surroundings rapidly. 
 A small cabin, with a mattress on a long locker. Two windows in 
 the stern. A small table in the centre, bolted to the floor. The 
 man was standing at the stairway waiting for her to speak. 
 
 "What does this mean?" she said. "Is it money you want? 
 How much ?" 
 
 He shook his head. "It is nothing, miss! Only be patient a 
 little while. Xo harm is intended. We would not have touched 
 vou if vou had come alouff." 
 
 " Where am I going ?" 
 
 "Only down the river a bit. Cawn't tell exactly how far. But 
 ypu'U be taken home as soon as possible. I am ordered to tell you 
 this." 
 
 " Ordered by whom ?" said Haidee. 
 
 " Ah ! that I cawn't tell you, you know ! No use to ask that ! 
 Nobody knows but me, and fire wouldn't burn it out of me ! I must 
 go on deck now, miss. If you want anything just knock on the 
 table, please." 
 
 " Before you go answer me one question. Will you put me ashore 
 for money? A hundred pounds. A thousand pounds." 
 
 "I dasn't listen to you, miss!" said the man, ascending the stairs. 
 " Please don't worrit yourself. It'll all come right. I swear it, by 
 gum !" And he departed, closing the cabin hatch behind him. 
 
 What can it all mean ? Apart from the outrageous seizure of her 
 body she had been treated with the greatest deference. Tlie man 
 who had just left her stood with cap in hand while he talked with 
 her. There was certainly no cause for present alarm. She had a 
 vague knowledge of the geography of the east coast, but could not 
 remember how far Clifton was from the sea. She had promised to 
 make no outcry, and no help was near, let her cry never so loudly. 
 She climbed up on the after locker and examined the fastenings of 
 the stern transoms. They were secured by bolts, and she found she 
 could slide the sash back, which she did. The cool breeze from the 
 water revived her, and she actually found herself admiring the 
 scenery upon either bank of the widening river as the schooner 
 
224 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 glided onward. By-and-bye slie remembered that she had ordered 
 dinner in Clifton, and she had eaten no Inncheon. She descended 
 from her perch and knocked on the table. The hatch opened on the 
 instant, and her captor appeared. 
 
 " I want some tea !" she said. 
 
 *' Coming, miss !" he replied. " Almost ready. Bear a hand 
 there, Bill !" 
 
 In five minutes he descended the stairs, bearing a tray. There 
 was a pot of tea, a sugar dish, six large buns, a plate of cold roast 
 beef, and a salt-cellar. He placed the tray on the table, touched his 
 cap, and scrambled up the stairway. 
 
 "I cannot eat anything," she murmured; "but perhaps I can 
 drink some tea." And when she mounted the locker again there 
 was one bun left and almost all the salt. The sun was down, the 
 river was still wider, and the vessel rose and fell upon a very per- 
 ceptible swell. In spite of her indignation and excitement the 
 monotony told upon her, and she leaned her head upon the window 
 and fell asleep. 
 
 Two or three hours of dreamless slumber, and then she was in 
 India again. Some incidents of her early life came to mind, and 
 she dreamed she was pursued by rebellious Sepoys. Her only hope 
 was in Zeba, who was hidden in the jungle. He was to announce 
 his proximity by singing a Pracrit war-song, which her enemies 
 could not understand. And while she slowly awakened, and con- 
 fusedly mingled the realities around her — the lapping of the water 
 against the hull, the creak of the yards on deck, and the flap of the 
 sail — with the fading fragments of her dream, the song came, clear 
 and distinct, from the moonlit river : 
 
 " The Ganga is born in the high hills 
 Where the frost god chains the streams ; 
 But it leaps from the rocky prison 
 Tearing its path to the plain. 
 So is the sweep of the tulwar 
 In the hand of the tulwar's lord." 
 
 It was the Pracrit song. She leaned out, and anticipating the 
 singer, who should have repeated the last two lines, she sang : 
 
 " So is the sweep of the tulwar 
 In the hand of the tulwar's lord." 
 
 " Beg pardon, miss," said a voice at her elbow, " but this is against 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 225 
 
 contract ! Orders is to close the transoms." And he shut the sashes 
 :uk1 secured them. 
 
 " I insist upon an explanation of this outrage," siie said, facing 
 the man with iianghty vehemence. " I recall any promise I have 
 made. I will scream for help as long as I can raise my voice." 
 
 "What will you have, miss?" said the man, submissively. 
 *' Don't make a row, and I'll do whatever you bid me." 
 
 "Put me ashore instantly," she answered. "That is all I ask." 
 
 " We are a good bit away from tlie shore, miss. If you promise 
 to keep quiet, I'll take you on deck and let you see for yourself." 
 
 " I promise," she answered, eagerly. " Where am I ?" 
 
 " Honor bright," said the man. " You won't cut up rough, nor 
 flop down in a fit nor nothin' if I take you up ?" 
 
 " I will not." 
 
 He went up the stairway, and held his hand out to assist her, as 
 she gained the deck. A wide expanse of water, the moon gilding 
 leagues of wavelets in the wake of the vessel, and nothing in sight 
 except a cockleshell of a sailboat far astern. 
 
 "Now, miss," said the man, with contrite accents, "I am sick of 
 this business! If you want to stay aboard, and go to — to Glasgow 
 — all right! If you want to be landed, I'll put you ashore. I 
 swear it, by gum !" 
 
 " Where can you land me?" she said. " And when?" 
 
 "Look forrard, miss," replied he. "D'ye see that red light just 
 off the starboard bow?" 
 
 " Yes. What is it ?" 
 
 " That is Linton light, miss. There is shoal water all round this 
 end, but we can heave to, and land you there. The light-house 
 keeper will take good care of you, and you can get to Milford to- 
 morrow. There is a steamer running from Milford to Clifton." 
 
 " How soon can I land?" she asked, all other considerations sink- 
 ing out of sight. Once on terra firma, she Avould be safe. 
 
 " In thirty minutes, miss. Will you go?" 
 
 "Go! Certainly. I have very little money with me, but I will 
 pay you any sum you demand after I get home." 
 
 " Don't want no money, miss," said the man, sighing, " thank 
 you all the same. Only want to get my conscience clear of this here 
 business." And he smote his breast with his fist. " You see I'm 
 under orders, miss, and I should be broke if I disobeyed. But I'm 
 going to land you, by gum ! And if you could only forgive me for 
 my part of this here outrage, I'd die happy." 
 
 15 
 
226 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Only put me on land, and I will forgive you all you have done." 
 
 "Thank'ee, miss. It takes a load off my mind. Would you 
 mind signing a bit of paper, just to show in case I get nabbed ? I'll 
 write it, if you'll be so kind. Here, Bill, bring me that lantern. 
 Set down here, miss. Bill, spread a cloth there on the hatchway." 
 And taking the lantern, he dived down into the cabin. 
 
 " AVhat is the name of this vessel ?" said Haidee to the attendant. 
 
 " The ' Swaller,' miss," said Bill, promptly. 
 
 " And the name of — the gentleman ^^'ho just went down ?" 
 
 "Captain Scroggs, miss," replied William. 
 
 These two lies slipped from his tongue so readily that he rose largely 
 in his own estimation. Somehow, Haidee knew he was lying, and 
 propounded no more questions. Captain Scroggs reappeared in a 
 few minutes with a slip of paper and pen. 
 
 " I'll read it, miss," he said, putting the lantern on the hatchway. 
 "This certifies that John Scroggs has landed meat Linton light, 
 without reward, and at my own request." 
 
 Haidee read the paper, and affixed her signature, notwithstanding 
 the defective orthography. He had spelt the final word " rekwest," 
 
 Her attention w^as next attracted to the, movement of the vessel, 
 which turned towards the light-house, now plainly visible, and quite 
 near. She could hear the breakers and see the line of white water. 
 The boat was lowered, and she was carefully assisted over the side 
 and seated in the stern sheets. Captain Scroggs and Bill dropped 
 aboard, put out the oars, and pulled straight for the light. Pres- 
 ently the boat grated against the landing, and she was assisted again 
 as she stepped out upon the flat rock at the base of the tower. To 
 her joy, she was met by a woman, whose arm she grasped, while she 
 tried to gather some meaning from the strange language the woman 
 used to welcome her. A man was standing at the door of the tower 
 with a pipe in his mouth. 
 
 "What is all this?" said he. 
 
 " Lady. Seasick. Take her to Mllford in the morning. You'll 
 be well paid." This came from the boat, already backing away 
 from the landing. 
 
 "Aye, aye! Walk in, mum. She'll show the way. Pity she 
 can't talk to you, mum. Leastways not in Hinglish. She don't 
 know a word of any lingo but Welsh. Walk in, mum." 
 
THE RESCUE. 2.21 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 The Rescue. 
 
 HAIDEE MORDAUXT coukl never give a coherent aeoonnt 
 of the events of the next twenty-four liours. 8he knew slie 
 slept fitfully through the night, and that the next morning she ex- 
 plored the narrow, rocky ledge upon which the light-house stood. 
 She heard the Pracrit war-song again in the morning, and saw Zeha 
 through the window, which was securely fastened. She saw an old 
 sailor in an oilskin coat, and saw the sail of the "Ripple." She 
 snatched up her hat to rush out, but her door was locked on the out- 
 side! And while she debated the question Jis to whether she should 
 scream for help, she saw the " Ripple" glide away. She had heard 
 the warning song of Zeba, enjoining silence, and suddenly concluded 
 that Sir Hyland was busy ])lanning her rescue ! She repeated this to 
 hei*self a thousimd times, and therefore did not go mad as the hours 
 wore on. The wife of the light-house keeper could not make her 
 understand a solitary word, and the man kept out of her sight 
 except during the few minut&s before the " Ripple" sailed away. 
 
 On the second night, about an hour after midnight, she was 
 startled by the sound of the Pracrit song, and, rushing to the window, 
 she saw the "Ripple" coming through the narrow channel in the 
 sands. AVhile she watched with absorbed attention the boat touched 
 the landing, and a man leaped ashore. It was the old mariner of 
 the previous day, in his oilskin coat and hat. He o^me to the win- 
 dow and endeavoured to open the sash, which was secured and bolted,, 
 and of course immovable. After a momentary hesitation he re- 
 turned to the landing and took an axe from the boat, while Zeba, 
 for it was he beyond doubt, secured the vessel to the rocky pier. 
 The old sailor wedged the axe in the outer sash, and with a M'rencli 
 tore it from its fastenings. Two quick blows demolished the inner 
 sash, and Zeba put his hand through the opening, while the sailor 
 cleared away the fragments that prevented her egress. 
 
 " Beebe, come quickly !" said Zel)a. She stepped upon the sill, 
 and, supported by the two men, reached the boat as the door of the 
 dwelling oj)ened and the light-house keeper appeared. 
 
 "Hillo!" he shouted, "what the devil are you up to, dad?" 
 His voice was husky and his step uncertain as he stumbled down to 
 the pier. 
 
 " Gov'ment property, old man !" he roared. " What d'ye mean 
 
228 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 by smashing winders this time o' night ? What are you doin' with 
 the girl ? You are ruining everything ! Come back, bless your 
 eyes !" 
 
 Zeba faced the drunken keeper, disdaining to draw his weapon, 
 while the old man drew the boat near the rock. At the moment, a 
 boat containing half a dozen men glided up to the mimic pier, and a 
 gentleman sprang ashore. The moon was lull and the sky cloudless. 
 The tall masts of a yacht, just off tiie sliore, drew graceful curves 
 against the sky as the vessel rocked on the waves. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Daltman !" said Haidee, springing to the side of the 
 Dew-comer, " take me away from this dreadful place !" 
 
 "That is just what I came to do," said Daltman ; "what devil's 
 work is this ! "Who has dared " 
 
 " No matter now !" said she ; " take me away !" 
 
 Zeba glanced at the old man in the oilskin garments, and then 
 silently drew his tulwar. But his connmnion caught his arm, and 
 M^hispering a word in his ear, stepped aboard the " Ripple," fol- 
 lowed by the reluctant Hindoo. As the boat drifted away, Dalt- 
 man called out — 
 
 " Stop that boat! Cockswain ! stop them ! I want to investigate 
 them a little." 
 
 A boat-hook was thrust over the side of the yawl, and catching 
 the " Ripple" by the mainstay, drew her back to the landing. Mr. 
 Daltman stepped aboard. The oilskin coat was in the stern, quiet 
 and peaceful. 
 
 "Tumble up here!" said Daltman, imperatively. "Let us see 
 what you are like." 
 
 " Deef !" said the keeper, with drunken gravity — " deef and drunk I 
 smashed the gov'ment winder ! Here's a go !" 
 
 "Come out, I say!" said Daltman, in a louder tone. The oilskin 
 arose, stumbled over the after-thwart, caught Mr. Daltman's legs as 
 he recovered, and with the strength of a giant, raised him up bodily, 
 and tossed him over the gunwale, into five feet of water. The tul- 
 war flaslied in the moonlight, and descended upon the boat-hook, 
 cutting it in twain, and the " Ripple" once more drifted into the 
 smugglers' channel. And when the cockswain had drawn his dripping 
 commander ashore, the " Ripple" was forty yards off. 
 
 " Follow them !" said Daltman, savagely. " Capture or kill I 
 Follow !" 
 
 " Aye, aye !" said the cockswain, " but that is old Jones, and he has 
 his sail up, and he knows every foot of the channel ! You will have 
 
TUE RESCUE. 229 
 
 to give liim up to-night, captain. Wc can get iiim when you want 
 him, at Mil ford." 
 
 Zoha sat in the stern of tlie flying "llij)ple," steering through the 
 channel with rare dexterity, lie looked anxiously into the sober 
 lace of his companion, who sat opposite, holding the sheet, but re- 
 mained silent until they had passed The Twins, and were clear of the 
 sanils. 
 
 "Where go, sahib?" said the Hindoo, as the boat danced over 
 the waves, beyond the line of white water. 
 
 " Back to Milford." 
 
 " With tulwar and axe could make good fight," observed Zeba, 
 his nostrils dilating ; " but sahib like not fight. Beebe go in ship." 
 
 " Mr. Daltman will take her home," said Hyland, composedly ; 
 "did you not hear her? She called for him." 
 
 "Beebe know not Lord Hyland," replied the Indian, "yellow 
 coat and hat. Sahib not speak." 
 
 " But she knew Mr. Daltman !" said Hyland, with a jealous pang; 
 "she flew to his side as soon as he appeared." 
 
 " Sahib Daltman dressed. Good coat. Good hat." 
 
 " I am afraid they got wet !" muttered Hyland, " but I could not 
 help it! It was bad enough to be too late. It would have been 
 Morse if they knew it ! You and I will keep the secret of this 
 adventure, Zeba." 
 
 When Mr. Daltman planned this rescue, he arranged to take 
 Haidee on a little longer cruise. He had prepared a lot of answers 
 to account for the delay, such as tides and currents and adverse 
 winds. But he had not made provision for the effect of salt water 
 on his habiliments, and no amount of romance could atone for 
 trousers that exposed his stockings, and a coat whose cuifs drew up 
 to his elbows. He found when he had dried his garments at the 
 galley stove, that he was not at all well gotten up, and he had no 
 change of raiment on board the yacht. It was absolutely imperative 
 to return to Milford, "where he had left his luggage, and repair 
 damages. He gave up the luxurious cabin to Haidee, informing her 
 that they would reach Milford in an hour or two. Before they left 
 the light-house, while he was assisting Haidee into the yawl, Mr. 
 Jone«, Junior, staggered up and touched his wet shoulder. 
 
 "Bad business, gov'nor!" he said. "Gov'ment property. A 
 matter of two pound smashed. Have to get a man from Milford. 
 Another pound !" 
 
 "Here is a five-pound note," answered Daltman. "It is rather 
 
230 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 damp. You will have to dry it. I shall be back here, and will see 
 that you are satisfied. Did you know the men who left the lady 
 here?" 
 
 "Perfect strangers!" replied Mr. Jones. "I say, gov'nor, how 
 the devil did the old 'un — I mean dad — you know — him that tossed 
 you over — how did he get mixed up in this here " 
 
 " How do I know !" said Daltman, angrily. " Cast off there ! 
 Give way, men, and get the lady on board the yacht." 
 
 It was three o'clock when Haidee landed at Milford. No cabs in 
 attendance at that hour, so Daltman escorted her to the hotel. She 
 clung to him, the heroism that had sustained her so many weary 
 hours deserting her now that she was in positive safety. She was 
 filled with a nameless dread, and Daltman seemed like a guardian 
 angel. The tide would not serve for six hours, and the yacht could 
 not enter the Avon. So he assured her, and she reluctantly con- 
 sented to go to her chamber and wait for daylight. The sleepy 
 chambermaid gladly accepted her proposal to lock the doors and to 
 sleep in the anteroom within call. And the worn-out maiden ob- 
 tained three or four hours' sleep, waking with the dawn, restored to 
 her ordinary vigour. She dressed rapidly and then wakened her 
 attendant. 
 
 "What is your name?" she asked, while the girl bored her eyes 
 out with her knuckles. 
 
 " Lucy, miss." 
 
 " Lucy, are you awake ?" 
 
 "Yes, miss." 
 
 "AVell, I want some tea and toast. How soon can I get them?" 
 
 " In five minutes, miss. I'll go order them." 
 
 " Go, then, and return immediately. And bring me a time-table." 
 
 "Beg pardon, miss — what kind o' table?" 
 
 " The book that tells about trains and steamboats. I wish to find 
 out how I can get to Clifton." 
 
 " Oh ! Don't want a book, miss. My mother lives in Clifton, 
 and I know all about it. The boat leaves for Mendon at a quarter 
 after seven. There it sometimes waits for the tide. But there is a 
 train for Clifton that leaves Mendon as soon as the boat gets there, 
 miss." 
 
 " Then we can go !" said Haidee, joyfully; " you can go with me ?" 
 
 " Don't know, miss. I'll ask the master." 
 
 " Send him to me. Run ! It is seven o'clock now ! Never 
 mind the tea." 
 
TUE RESCUE. 231 
 
 A sovereign in addition to the cliarge for lodging bought Lucy's 
 atteiidaiu-e for the day, and when Mr. Daltnian was leisurely dressing 
 for break fiust, the " Prince of Wales" was steaming out the harbour 
 with Haidee and her new maid on board. Mr. Daltnian sent his 
 card to Miss Mordaunt's room, and received in exchange the fol- 
 lowing little note: 
 
 "Dear Mr. Daltman — I have just learned that the 'Prince of 
 Wales' will sail for Mendon in fifteen minutes. As she is a steamer, 
 she will go so much faster than your yacht, and I can get to Clifton 
 by rail. I know the route, and have engaged a maid to accomi)any 
 me. I can take luncheon with papa to-day ! I am quite well and 
 filled with joy, thanks to your kind attention. 
 
 "Haidee Mordaunt. 
 
 " P. S. — I hope you did not take cold." 
 
 The remarks that fell from Mr. Daltman's lips when he mastered 
 the contents of this epistle made the attentive waiter's flesh creep. 
 He mentioned the " Prince of Wales," the hotel, the yacht, the tide, 
 and various other objects with an objurgatory prefix, and with heart- 
 felt emphasis. Then he ordered breakfast. 
 
 His cockswain waited upon him at eight o'clock by appointment. 
 There was some solace in the thought that Mr. Jones was within 
 reach. He would at least give the old wretch full payment for his 
 assault of the previous night. The cockswain led the way to the 
 Jones mansion, near the pier. They were admitted by Mr. Flellen, 
 the second-story lodger, who informed the sailor that his landlord 
 had passed a terrible night. They found Mr. Jones upon his cot, 
 with a medical man in attendance. 
 
 "What ails the old marauder?" said Daltman, rudely, after a 
 glance at the sick man. 
 
 " Threatened with mania-a-potu," answered the doctor. 
 
 " When did it begin to threaten ?" said Daltman, sarcastically, 
 while the cockswain examined the oilskin coat and hat, hanging 
 against the wall. 
 
 " I was called at midnight exactly," answered the doctor. " Flel- 
 len came for me, saying the old man was mad. I found him in a 
 very precarious condition demanding prompt treatment. I have 
 been exhibiting spintus Mindererus with very satisfactory results ! 
 He is mending. I do not apprehend another ])aroxysm. Probably 
 I shall administer some stimulant later in the day." 
 
232 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Why, I saw this man sailing out into the channel at midnight !" 
 said Daltman. 
 
 " And I saw him, too !" added the cockswain. The doctor shook 
 his head with an incredulous smile. 
 
 "Sorry to contradict you, gentlemen," said he, "but you are 
 certainly mistaken. Here, Flellen ! "What time was it when I came 
 last night?" 
 
 " Twelve !" answered the other, in good "Welsh. 
 
 " And I have not been out of this room since," said the doctor. 
 
 "And did he have this coat and hat on?" asked the cockswain, 
 derisively, touching the yellow garments. 
 
 " No. Those belong to a sailor friend, I suppose. He came in 
 between two and three o'clock, and hung the coat on that hook. I 
 saw him do it ! There can be no mistake about it," he continued, 
 with professional dignity. " The man left a sovereign with me, and 
 here it is ! It was to pay me for medical attendance." 
 
 " There is some mystery about this business, Blain," said Mr. 
 Daltman, as he and the cockswain walked down the pier. " Do you 
 think that doctor fellow was lymg?" 
 
 " It is Doctor Rice," said the cockswain ; " I cannot think he would 
 be up to any trick." 
 
 " It was that coat that threw me overboard !" said Daltman, 
 " Who the devil is the sailor friend ? Where is he?" 
 
 The sailor friend was seated in the forecastle of the " Prince of 
 Wales" at that precise moment, watching Haidee Mordauut prome- 
 nading the deck, leaning on the arm of her maid. 
 
 A one-armed Hindoo was coiled up on the deck at his feet, fast 
 asleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 The Arrest. 
 
 MR. HYLAND RAYNEFORD sat in moody silence on the 
 forward deck of the " Prince of Wales," his broad-brimmed 
 felt hat pulled down over his brow. Haidee was in sight, on the 
 after part of the vessel, sometimes promenading the deck, and some- 
 times seated on the long bench against the bulwarks, but always 
 closely attended by her maid. Zeba had drawn his cloak over his 
 
THE ARREST. 233 
 
 head and shoulders as soon as he saw Haidee on board, and, drop- 
 ping down on tlie deck, propped himself aj^aiiist the ca|)stiui and fell 
 asleep. He and Hyland had watched the hotel at Milford during 
 the time that Haidee slept, walking along the solitary street and 
 subsisting upon the fumes of cheroots. As soon as daylight re- 
 turneil, and the streets became populatetl, Zeba mounted guard 
 oi)posite the main entrance wiiile Hyland obtained his breakfast. 
 Then Hyland took his place, having ordered chops and tea for the 
 Hindoo. They were close behind Haidee and her maid when 
 they boarded the steamer, and, finding Daltman did not appear, 
 Mr. Rayneford betook himself to the forecastle, where smoke was 
 legal. 
 
 While he sat there he reviewed the course of events, and once he 
 half started to accost the maiden when she came up the stairs from 
 the dining-cabin. But Haidee had clutched the arm of her maid 
 and withdrawn from the little group of passengers, and a fit of shy- 
 ness came over Rayneford, and he resumed his seat. It was not at 
 all necessary to offer assistance or escort, and the offer would have a 
 second-hand appearance. Why did Daltman send her without him? 
 AVhy did she fly to Daltman last night M'hen he had broken her 
 prison open? Common sense answered. Daltman had a sea-going 
 vessel, with all appliances of comfort and safety, while he had only 
 an old fishing-boat. And she did not know him. Ah ! when he 
 took her hand in his and led her down to the boat he was dumb ! 
 
 If he had spoken Well — she would still have gone with 
 
 Daltman ! This was his conclusion. 
 
 At the same instant Haidee was reviewing. How did Daltman 
 find out her hiding-place? And Zeba? Zeba must have told Dalt- 
 man. But Zeba came to England with the Lord of the tulwar. 
 Surely he did not give that title to Daltman ! Did Sir Hyland send 
 Zeba with that old sailor? It must have been, because Daltman 
 assaulted them and was thrown into the sea by the sailor. She saw 
 that. Where was Sir Hyland? Perhaps on Clifton Downs, and 
 she was going there! What had become of Zeba? She saw his 
 lithe figure in the stern of the boat as it drifted away, while the old 
 sailor was fumbling with the mainsheet amidships ; and she had 
 previously seen the sweep of Zeba's sword as it cut through the staflP 
 of the boat-hook. It was very mysterious ! 
 
 By-the-bye! It could not have been an accidental encounter out 
 on the river when she was wakened by Zeba's song! Zeba must 
 have known she was there ! Therefore Zeba must have had some 
 
234 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 part in the outrageous abduction ! Now whom did he sen^e ? Sir 
 Hyland, of course ! Would he be guilty of such a crime ! Never ! 
 Never ! 
 
 " Talk to me, Lucy," she said, desperately, " or I shall go mad ! 
 Tell me about Clifton — your mother, where does she live? Have 
 you any sisters or brothers ?" 
 
 This opened the sluice-gates, and a torrent flowed. Lucy did not 
 pause, except to draw breath, until the " Prince of Wales" reached 
 Mendon. 
 
 At Mendon, Hyland watched as she went ashore, saw her pause at 
 the telegraph-office, rush in and write a message, pay a shilling; 
 heard the operator read the message aloud : " From Plaidee Mor- 
 daunt to Doctor Leigh, St. Vincent's Hotel, Clifton, Bristol. Safe 
 and well. AVill reach Clifton at eleven o'clock." Then he drew 
 back against the wall as she passed out and entered the station. 
 Saw her get into a railway carriage with Lucy. So he and Zeba 
 took seats in the next carriage, and the train started for Clifton. 
 
 Along the river-bank, sometimes through tunnels, sometimes skim- 
 ming over long stretches of coast, river on the right and rocks on 
 the left, until they passed the spot where the " Ariadne" had anchored. 
 The high bridge was in sight now, then the dark tunnel, and then 
 slowing down as the train slipped into the Clifton station, and the 
 guard unlocked the doors. 
 
 Doctor Leigh and Glendare catching Haidee's hands as she 
 descended. A torrent of questions, of course, and a torrent of tears 
 for answer. Then the two men take her between them and start for 
 the Zigzag, Lucy meekly following. And Hyland and Zeba crawl 
 out of their carriage and turn their backs on the party. Safe now, 
 certainly. No further need for watching. 
 
 There is a rude stairway nearer the bridge, partly cut in the cliff 
 and partly builded of timbers, and Hyland and the Hindoo climb 
 that. A few steps to the Downs ; they pass the Observatory, and 
 sit down under a tree. 
 
 " Zeba, my friend," said Hyland, " we have not yet found my 
 brother." 
 
 " Sahib's brother west," replied the Hindoo, sweeping his arm in 
 that direction. 
 
 "How long shall we look in that quarter?" asked Hyland, 
 incredulously. . 
 
 " Until find," answered Zeba, steadily. " Ask tulwar at Calcutta. 
 Ask tulwar on the sea. Ask tulwar at sahib's bungalow. Ask 
 
THE ARREST. 235 
 
 tulwar at Milford. Tulwar say west, Avest, west, west ! Four times 
 tulwar answer." 
 
 " Suppose it had happened to chano;e " 
 
 "Xo happen!" interrupted the Hindoo, with dignity. "Sahib 
 know law of happen ! If happen two times, then tulwar kill thirty- 
 one other happens. If happen three times, then tulwar kill many 
 thousand other happens. If happen four times, then tulwar kill 
 more otiier happens than all the stars in the sky— all the drops of 
 water in the sea." 
 
 Ilyland was stunned by this unexpected rejoinder. He had, in 
 previous intercourse with Zeba, been frequently astonished by the 
 display of unusual mathematical knowledge, sometimes by the na- 
 tive's rapid mental solution of abstruse problems, which solution he 
 afterwarils verified by elaborate processes. Given, the accuracy 
 of the tulwar's responses— Hyland felt that Zeba's argument was 
 unanswerable on any scientific hypothesis. 
 
 "Tulwar find Beebe," continued Zeba. 
 
 " Yes," muttered Hyland, discontentedly ; " and a devil of a mess 
 it made of it !" 
 
 " When tulwar chop enemy down," continued the Hindoo, "enemy 
 live two, three hours. Tulwar only chop once. But not done till 
 enemy die." 
 
 Hyland felt his heart bound at this suggestion, but remained 
 
 silent. 
 
 " Beebe safe," said Zeba, meditatively ; " but end not yet ! Tulwar 
 find Beebe because Lord Hyland look for her. Tulwar find Beebe 
 eleven o'clock two nights gone. When did sahib first want find?" 
 
 Stunned again ! Hvland remembered that it was eleven o'clock 
 when he discovered Haiilee's identity with the maiden on Clifton 
 Downs, in the billiard-room at Bath. 
 
 "By this light!" said Hyland, "this beats ordinary necromancy. 
 Tell me, Zeba, has the tulwar ever revealed other things to you?" 
 
 " Many times," replied Zeba, readily. " Tulwar tell sahib coming 
 from the' frost-hills. So Zeba wait. Not sail with Colonel Sahib. 
 Tulwar tell sahib at Clifton, two days ago. Not point west then." 
 
 " I'll hear no more of this awful rubbish !" said Hyland, in a rage. 
 " My friend, I will follow you ! The west is as full of promise as 
 any other direction. I will humour you and go." 
 
 "Sahib always wise!" answered Zeba, courteously. 
 
 " Now to go to Doctor Leigh. Learn what you can. ^Nliss Mor- 
 daunt saw you, and knew you. She will ask you many questions. 
 
236 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 It is not necessary to tell her who was with you. Probably she will 
 not enquire." 
 
 " Zeba has no tongue." 
 
 "I do not mean that exactly," said Hyland, "and I put no re- 
 strictions upon you. You are wise enough to answer discreetly. 
 Anyhow, it is great folly to be sensitive because I attempted to res- 
 cue her and — failed." 
 
 " Sahib not failed. Enemy struck. Not yet dead. Only dying !" 
 
 Once more Hyland noted the bound of his heart, which he sternly 
 repressed on the instant. At the same time he was touched by the 
 evident devotion of the Hindoo. 
 
 " Give me your hand, Zeba," he said, stretching out his own ; 
 "you are a brave gentleman, and I am proud to Ciill you friend. It 
 may be that we can discover the actors in this outrage. If we do, 
 let us be discreet." 
 
 "Sahib want? Tulwar find," said Zeba, as he left. 
 
 Hyland arose, and passing the Observatory, crossed the bridge, 
 and reached the cottage of Mrs. Noils. His first visit was to 
 Tommy, who was sleek and comfortable. Then he entered the 
 house, and after a luxurious bath, dressed with more care than usual. 
 His lu(yo;ao|;e had been sent from London durino; his absence, and he 
 had a choice of habiliments. It was possible that Zeba might bring 
 a message from — Dr. Leigh or Mr. Glendare, that would make it 
 proper for him to call on them. He was hungering for some slight 
 intercourse with his Indian friends. He would give fifty pounds 
 just to hear Haidee talk. Then he went into his dark closet to 
 inspect his pictures. He missed some of them. 
 
 "Mrs. Noils," he said, coming into his sitting-room, "somebody 
 has removed some pictures from the bath. I left them last night." 
 
 " Nobody has been there," said Mrs. Noils, " except the gentle- 
 man you sent back. He went in there for the paper you left." 
 
 " Ah !" replied Hyland. " ^yheu did he come ?" 
 
 " As soon as you went away last night, sir. He said you had 
 sent him back for a paper, and he took my lamp and hunted around 
 this room, your bedroom and the closet. He was here about ten 
 minutes." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Hyland. " What was he like ?" 
 
 " An ugly little man, sir, with red eyes. There he is ! That is 
 the same man out there under the tree." 
 
 Hyland looked through the window and investigated Mr. Dancer. 
 Although not very attractive in appearance, Hyland desired a closer 
 
THE ARREST. 237 
 
 view; so lie put on liis hat aiul walked out and across the road, 
 where the deteetivc was standinji;. 
 
 " Mrs. Noils tells nie," lie s:iid, with cold composure, " that you 
 searched my apartments last night. Who sent you, and for what?" 
 
 " Oh !" said ]Mr. Dancer, politely, " excuse me, sir. Mr. Robin- 
 son ?" 
 
 " What ditl you seek in my rooms?" said Hyland, sternly. 
 
 ** Beg pardon, sir," replied Mr. Dancer, " but you iiad better come 
 up on the jnith. Cab coming. Hi, Tom ! Stop!" 
 
 The cab stopped, and a man who was seated by the driver slid 
 down from his perch. 
 
 "All right, Tom!" said Mr. Dancer, "this is the gent! Now, 
 Mr. Robinson, if you please, I want you." 
 
 " What ilo you mean, you insolent scoundrel?" replied Hyland. 
 
 " Better go slow," said the detective, menacingly. " Of course you 
 cawn't understand ! Not much ! But I want you all the same. I 
 have a warrant for you. D'ye want to see it? Of course! Well, 
 I'm an officer of the law, and I want you on two or three accounts. 
 Do you happen to know Lord Rayneford ? Ah !" 
 
 " What of him? Speak, man ! Has anything happened " 
 
 " Better go dark now, young man," said the detective, impress- 
 ively. "Don't be fool enough to criminate yourself. You're 
 wanted ; that's enough. You never saw ]\Iiss Haidee Mordaunt, I 
 s'pose? Ah! troubled again! Now, take your choice" — and he 
 exhibited a pair of handcuffs — " have these on, and walk in town 
 with me, or get into the cab with me and Tom, and we can ride 
 in." 
 
 Hyland reflected a moment. 
 
 "Suppose this is an absurd mistake of yours?" he said, coolly. 
 " I am not going to resist lawful authority, but what redress should 
 I have if you have blundered in this matter?" 
 
 " Here is the warrant," replied the officer, exhibiting the paper. 
 " It orders me to take the body of John Robinson, Photographer." 
 
 " And sup|)ose I am not John Robinson, but a gentleman " 
 
 " I'll have to take the risk," said Mr. Dancer, a little staggered. 
 " Mayhap it's a blunder, as you call it. If you are not a gentleman 
 you are a cool hand. But appearances are against you. Get in the 
 cab. Help him in, Tom." 
 
 "I require no a.ssistance, thank you," said Hyland. "Do not 
 touch me, if you please. There! You and your friend will please 
 occupy the front seat." 
 
238 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 As the cab rolled across the bridge, Hyland decided upon his 
 course. 
 
 " There are two questions which you may answer," said he. 
 " First : about Lord Rayneford. Do you hnow of any harm that has 
 befallen him? Do not hesitate, man! I know he has beeu miss- 
 ing, and Mr. Plimpton told me he had set you on his track. Have 
 you any information about him?" 
 
 " I fancy I don't know any more than yoxL know," replied Mr. 
 Dancer, with a grin. " I found a pockmantle in your room marked 
 * Rayneford.' " 
 
 "Ah! Then that is all?" 
 
 " That is all I have to say," replied the officer. 
 
 "Question second. Was the paper you sought in my rooms — a 
 picture, for instance?" 
 
 " I found a picture or two," replied Mr. Dancer. 
 
 "Then will you have the kindness to preserve them carefully? 
 I shall want them. That is all. Where are we going?" 
 
 " To the lock-up at the Town Hall." 
 
 " I suppose I can have a room — for a price — until the authorities 
 discover your mistake ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly !" said Mr. Dancer, airily. " Hope you won't get 
 tired waiting for that. Well, you are a cool hand, and no mistake ! 
 I've made many a haul where coves carried a high hand, but you 
 bang them all. It is good as a book to listen to you. If I didn't 
 know better, I'd think you was His Royal Highness. But then 
 I've .seen His Royal Highness, and you ar'n't a bit like him. What 
 are you laughing at ?" 
 
 " What an enormous ass you are, Mr. Dancer !" replied the pris- 
 oner. " I am laughing to think how Mr. Plimpton will look when 
 I tell him " 
 
 " Well," said the detective, " that's lucky I Mr. Plimpton is in 
 Clifton now." 
 
CROSS-EXAMINED. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 Cross-Examined. 
 
 ZEBA entered the spacious hall of St. Vincent's Hotel, arrested 
 a living waiter, and asked for Glendare. 
 
 " Gone to Batli. Will be back to-night," said the servant.. 
 
 " Doctor Leigh ?" 
 
 " Gone to Bristol." 
 
 "Missee Mordaunt?" persisted the Hindoo. 
 
 " Ah ! Cawn't see her. She is very tired, and is in her room." 
 
 " Take name. Zeba. I wait." 
 
 The attendant hesitated, glancing doubtfully at the foreigner. 
 Zeba's make-up was not artistic. The old camlet cloak was weather- 
 stained and ftided. His shoes were dusty. His one eye had a fero- 
 cious gleam, though his manner was highly polished. 
 
 " Better take name !" he said. " Write on card Zeba. I wait." 
 
 The waiter departed, and in two minutes came down the stairway 
 three steps at a time. 
 
 " Walk up, sir, please !" he said. " Miss Mordaunt will see you 
 immediately. I'll show you her parlour. This way, sir." 
 
 A volley of Hindoostanee came through the doorway when Lucy 
 opened at the modest knock of the servant. Haidee was reclining 
 on a sofa near the window. 
 
 " Salaam, Beebe !" said Zeba. 
 
 "Come here, Zeba!" replied Haidee, relapsing into English. 
 " Shake hands and sit down there," pointing to a stool at the foot of 
 the sofa. 
 
 "Zeba stand!" said Zeba, touching her extended hand, bowing 
 profoundly. 
 
 " Sit down ! "stormed Haidee, going back to Hindoostanee, " and 
 tell me everything that has happened since we left you in Cal- 
 cutta." 
 
 The hotel-waiter retired stunned. The horrible gibberish sounded 
 more horrible by reason of the musical voice of the sjieaker. Lucy 
 returned to her seat equally astounded. Zeba dropped his camlet 
 and hat on the floor, tucked his long sword under his arm, and 
 obediently squatted on the low stool indicated. 
 
 " My lady asks too many questions at once," said the Hindoo, in 
 his native language. " I waited in Calcutta for the Lord Hyland. 
 Then we sailed many days on the sea. When we landed I began to 
 
240 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 look for Lord Hyland's brother. Found him not. But found my 
 little lady." 
 
 " And you told Mr. Daltman ?" said Haidee. 
 
 "No. I have not spoken to Sahib Daltman since he left 
 Calcutta." 
 
 " Did you know I had been seized and carried away ?" 
 
 "No. Tulwar knew. I did not know my little lady was in the 
 ship. But tulwar bade me sing when the ship passed. And my 
 little lady answered. Then I knew." 
 
 " And do you not know who carried me away ?" said Haidee, 
 watching him keenly. 
 
 The Hindoo deliberated. " Will find, and tell another day," he 
 said. 
 
 " Do you not know now ?" 
 
 There was another pause. " Little lady will wait," he said. " I 
 do not know. I only think. When I know I will tell." 
 
 "And how did you find me?" 
 
 "Tulwar said, Go to Linton Sands," replied Zeba. 
 
 " But it could not say Linton Sands !" said Haidee, positively. 
 Zeba drew a map from his pouch and spt-ead it open on his knee. 
 
 " Here is Lord Hyland's bungalow," he said, putting his finger 
 on the locality. "I asked tuhvar there. When the answer came, 
 I drew this line. It goes through Milford to Linton Sands, and the 
 sea is beyond. AVhen at Milford I had heard Beebe sing back to 
 me, and I asked again. It said Linton Sands. Then I saw Beebe 
 through the window. Could not kill light-house man Jones, because 
 his father fed me. Could not get Beebe without killing Jones. 
 Then went back for — my friend." 
 
 " Well ?" said Haidee, with glowing eyes. 
 
 "Find friend," said Zeba, in English, and choosing his words 
 carefully. " He was not home, and had wait. When find, night 
 come. Tell friend I had Beebe in prison, and want help." 
 
 " And your friend's name ? What is he called ? Where does he 
 "live?" 
 
 "Name?" answered the Hindoo. "Is called Mr. Robinson. Live? 
 Anywhere ! He sometimes here, sometimes there. Find him with 
 tulwar." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Friend go with me. Get boat, get axe. To Linton Sands sail. 
 Break down window. Get Bebee, and " 
 
 " What next ?" said Haidee, impatiently, as the Hindoo hesitated. 
 
CROSS-EXAMINED. 241 
 
 "Siiliib Daltman come. I U'll Sahib Robinson take axe. I take 
 tulwar aiul we take BeC'be. But Beebe call Sahib Daltiuan, and 
 friend s:iy, 'Come away. Be6be safe.' Then Sahib Daltman 
 come in boat. Friend put him in sea. I cut hook, and boat sail 
 home." 
 
 " Home ?" said Haidee. " Do you mean Clifton ?" 
 
 " No. jNIilford. Sailor man Jones come in * Bengal' ship. Good 
 friend, too. Live in JNIilford. liorrow Jones boat. Borrow yellow 
 coat. Take boat back, and watch for Sahib Daltman ship. When 
 ship come, see Beebe go in house. Watch house all night. See 
 Beebe get on ship. Get on, too. See Beebe on train. Get on, too. 
 See Beebe with Doctor Sahib. Then done. That all !" 
 
 " And you left your friend at Milford ?" said Haidee, very care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " No. Friend come too." 
 
 " Ah ! He lives here, then ?" 
 
 " Live anywhere, everywhere. Have horse. Drive about country." 
 
 " Bring him here !" said Haidee. " I wish to thank him." 
 
 " Not come !" answered Zeba : " going away." 
 
 Haidee mused, while Zeba waited. Then she took out her purse, 
 ostentatiously. 
 
 " Beebe not pay rupee," said Zeba, rising. " She take magic from 
 tulwar !" 
 
 " But it is not for you" she answered. " Sit down !" And she 
 took out some coins. 
 
 ''Beebe not send money!" said Zeba. "A thousand lacs too 
 little !" 
 
 " The money is for my maid," said Haidee. " Here, Lucy. I 
 may forget it when Sista comes. This is for yourself." Then turning 
 suddenly upon Zeba, she opened the cross-examination in Hindoo- 
 stance. 
 
 " How did the tulwar find me, when you were looking for Lord 
 Rayneford ?" 
 
 "Little lady will not understand Indian magic," replied Zeba, 
 evasively. 
 
 "Yes. And I know the Indian noble speaks always truth in 
 Hindoostanee. Answer !" 
 
 " Tulwar in magic must serve Lord of tulwar. When Beebe was 
 near, tulwar made me sing. I did not think of Be6be." 
 
 " Then it told you, because you were its lord ?" 
 Zeba glanced at her, uneasily. She was propped up with pillows 
 
 16 
 
242 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 in a corner of the sofa. Her eyes were half closed, and she looked 
 so innocent that Zeba was reassured. 
 
 " Tulwar serve tulwar's lord/' began Zeba in fair English. 
 
 " Hindoostanee !" said Haidee, opening her eyes, and glancing at 
 Lucy. 
 
 " The tulwar has no lord until warrior gains the lordship !" con- 
 tinued Zeba in his own language. " I have fought with it in many 
 battles, and have killed many times." 
 
 " And so became Lord of the tulwar?" observed Haidee, when he 
 paused. 
 
 "The lordship cannot be gained in battles," said Zeba; "too 
 many helpers. It must be won with naked hand, without defensive 
 armour, and the blood of the lord must mingle with the blood of his 
 foe on the blade. No other hand must help. He who would rule 
 the tulwar nmst stand alone and defy death ! If his breast is iron, 
 he will win. If he tremble once, he is lost ! No man can try twice." 
 
 "And you won the lordship in single combat?" asked Haidee. 
 quietly. 
 
 " I fought three times in single fight. Once at Lahore, but my 
 enemy was shot before I conquered. Then in the jungle, when I 
 carried Beebe to Colonel Sahib, I killed Sepoy scout. But I had 
 not a scratch on my body. Then at Cattaghur, I met rebel chief on 
 horseback. He gave me this" — and he showed a deep scar on his 
 neck — "and I killed him. When he fell from his horse, I found a 
 bullet in his side. Some stray shot had struck him, and the victory 
 was not all mine." 
 
 "Then I understand!" said Haidee: "you must kill a man in 
 his full power, without aid ?" 
 
 " Man or " He hesitated. 
 
 " I wait," said Haidee, patiently. 
 
 " Man or man-eater !" answered Zeba, sullenly. 
 
 " And have you killed a man-eater ?" persisted his tormentor. 
 
 " No, Hyland Sahib took the lordship ! I wear the tulwar, but 
 Hyland Sahib is Lord of the tulwar. Lord of Zeba, too ! If I ask 
 tulwar to serve me, it answers not. If I ask for Lord Hyland, it 
 answers always !" 
 
 There was a silence of several minutes. Zeba was wondering if 
 Beebe had gained any information. Haidee was wondering how 
 she could draw more information from the reluctant Hindoo. 
 
 " Did Mr. llayneford come with you from Calcutta?" she asked; 
 " I mean in the same ship ?" 
 
CROSS-EXAMINED. 243 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did you go with him to his bung-alow ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "And left him there?" 
 
 " No. Hyland Sahib went to London. I went to Linton Sands." 
 
 "At Linton Sands you found me," said Haidee, reflecting; "how 
 many days have you been in England ?" 
 
 " Twelve." 
 
 " How many times at Clifton?" 
 
 " Only once before. Came here for friend, two nights ago." 
 
 " What does vour friend — Mr. Robinson, you called him — what 
 does he drive about the country for?" 
 
 " He make pictures with the sun." 
 
 " Wiio told you he was at Clifton ?" said Haidee, suddenly. 
 
 "Tulwar!"' 
 
 "Zeba, you are not trying to enlighten me!" she said, severely. 
 "You said but now the tulwar would not answer you !" 
 
 She thought this was a shot between the eyes. But Zeba answered 
 compose<lly. 
 
 " I asked for Hyland Sahib. I knew Hyland Sahib had stood 
 between Beebe and the man-eater. I knew he would take her 
 from Linton Sands, if he had to swim over the sea ; and tulwar 
 must serve sahib. So tulwar brought me to — Robinson." 
 
 "And Mr. Robinson does not desire any thanks?" said Haidee, 
 with flushed cheeks. " I should not have known he sought me but 
 for you." 
 
 "Robinson say he do nothing," responded Zeba, in English; in 
 which tongue he always took refuge when driven into a corner. 
 
 "Speak in Hindoostanee," said Haidee. "Did Mr. Robinson 
 know Mr. Daltman ?" 
 
 " Be6be called out Daltman Sahib," replied the Indian. " Then 
 he know." 
 
 The flush deepened. While she revolved this answer, there was 
 a knock at the <loor, and a card presented. 
 
 " Mr. Plimi)ton !" said she. " Request Mr. Plimpton to walk 
 up." Zeba threw his cloak over his shoulders, and prepared to 
 retire. 
 
 " Please wait, Zeba," said Haidee ; '' I will not detain you long." 
 And Zeba walked over to the jirojecting window, and studied the 
 scenery on the other side of the Avon. Mr. Plimpton, rubbing his 
 hands and chuckling audibly, came in. 
 
244 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " My dear Miss Haidee !" he said, shaking hands, " welcome back. 
 I have good news for you. We've got him !" 
 
 " Got whom, Mr. Plimpton ? Sit down." 
 
 " No time ! Dancer has caught your abductor ! Got him safe at 
 the Town Hall. He is a swell, and is ensconced in a private room. 
 And the rascal had the impudence to send for me !" 
 
 "Have you seen him?" said Haidee. 
 
 "Not yet. Thought I would take you down to identify him. 
 Put on your hat ; it is a short distance, and I have a cab. Where 
 is Leigh ?" 
 
 " In Bristol." 
 
 " And Glendare ?" 
 
 " In Bath. He went to tell papa. He will return this evening." 
 
 " Well, come along. I'll bring you back." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Plimpton, I am not well enough to go out to-day. 
 I have been so excited, and have passed through such strange adven- 
 tures, and am so wearied, that Doctor Leigh says I must keep quiet 
 until to-morrow." 
 
 " But I want you to identify the rascal." 
 
 " Which I cannot do. I do not remember what the man was like. 
 He is a sailor, and called himself Captain Scroggs." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! he has a dozen aliases, no doubt. At present he calls 
 himself Robinson, and is a peripatetic photographer. What's that ?'' 
 
 It was the click of the tulwar. Zeba had drawn it a little way 
 out of the scabbard, and suffered it to fall back, as he whisked 
 through the open door and disappeared. 
 
 " What the devil — excuse me ! What was that ?" said Mr. 
 Plimpton. 
 
 "That is Zeba — a soldier in papa's regiment. I think I will go 
 with you. Can Lucy go also — my maid?" 
 
 " Certainly ; cab carries four. Come on ! I am curious to see 
 this fellow I To think of his impudence ! His compliments to Mr. 
 • Plimpton ! Are you ready ?" 
 
 " Quite ready," said Haidee. " I feel some curiosity also. Come, 
 Lucy !" 
 
MR. PLIMPTON. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 Mr. Plimi^ox. 
 
 THE cab drew up at the Town TTall, ami ^Fr. Dancer and his friend 
 alighted, loilowed l)y Mr. Kobinson. Tiiere was an old man 
 at a grated wicket, who inspected a j)aper presented by Mr. Dancer 
 with great deliberation, then unlocked the wicket and admitted the 
 party. 
 
 " Back or up?" said the aged warden. 
 
 "Oh, this gent wants a private room," answered ]\Ir. Dancer. 
 "Regular swell, you know." 
 
 " Eive shillin's a day, in advance," said the old man, after a glance 
 at the prisoner. ]\Ir. Robinson paid the money, and was ushered 
 up-stairs. 
 
 " iS'pose I ought to search you," said Mr. Dancer, who followed 
 him into the room ; " but don't want to be troublesome. Got any 
 pistols or things?" 
 
 "I have no weapon more formidable than my pocket-knife," 
 answered Hyland ; "do you want that?" 
 
 " It's no consequence, I fancy," said the detective, somewhat sub- 
 dued in manner. "Do you want to send for anybody?" 
 
 "Certainly! My compliments to Mr. Plimpton, and say he will 
 please come soon as possible. Here is money for the messenger. 
 Half a crown is enough. Stay ! It is possible that a friend of 
 mine may come. He is a Hindoo with one arm. Admit him, if 
 you please." 
 
 " All right, governor !" said Mr. Dancer. " AVe will entertain 
 him too, blast his black skin ! I want him. Don't say nothing to 
 me. Needn't criminate yourself!" 
 
 "Get out, then," answered Hyland, "and find Mr. Plimpton. I 
 must leave Clifton to-night." 
 
 Mr. Dancer withdrew and locked the door on the outside ; then, 
 holding the key in his hand, he addressed some remarks to it, in a 
 low tone. 
 
 "If you get a cucumber," he said, "and freeze it in four foot of 
 ice all round, and throw a peck o' salt on the ice, it's my oj)inion the 
 curuml)er won't be as cool as yon chap! Smash me, if he. don't 
 take the conceit all out of me .'" The key made no reply, and Mr. 
 Dancer walked down-stairs, depositing the key with the warden. 
 He thought he might as well earn that half-crown himself; so, 
 
246 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 leaving directions to admit Zeba if he appeared, he started off in 
 
 a brisk canter for Mr. Plimpton. 
 
 • ... 
 
 Hyland looked around his five-shilling apartment. There were 
 
 two windows looking out on the courtyard. No door except that 
 by which he had entered. The windows were grated, and the door 
 was substantial. There was a notice on the wall : " Smoking posi- 
 tively prohibited." So Hyland lighted a cigar, drew one of the two 
 chairs to the window, took a picture from his breast-pocket and 
 studied it with patient scrutiny. 
 
 "It is an eminently wise face," he murmured, ''and full of 
 candour. It is strange how it fascinates me. I wonder how it 
 looks when lit up by smiles? I never saw the child smile. Out 
 yonder, it was always muffled up, and I never saw anything but 
 those wonderful eyes. Poor little martyr, how I pitied her ! I 
 used to think what a crowning mercy it would be if the child 
 would only die. And now she has emerged from martyrdom and 
 childhood at one bound. What a beautiful face! You can see 
 truth and brave confidence in every line of it. That detective 
 ass carried off the otiier copy, which I left in the bath. And the 
 negative is spoiled by my clumsiness, and this is therefore the only 
 copy extant. By this light ! there is not enough money in England 
 to buy it ! 
 
 " It is strange, too, that the prediction of my mad friend. Holly, 
 should have faded clean away when I took this picture. If I had 
 been weak enough to attach importance to his foolish prophecy, I 
 could not have selected a better fate than this. The woman does not 
 live who could buy this bit of cardboard, with herself and her for- 
 tune. If I could ever entertain matrimonial intentions at all, how 
 easily could this girl take me captive ! Glendare says no man can 
 lawfully marry until he has found the only woman in the Avorld 
 whom he could love. There is but one, he says, and when she is 
 found, the orderly march of nature's laws and the stately march 
 of Providence will do the rest ! 
 
 " Which better endures the test of logic? Glendare's philosophy 
 or Holly's superstition?" 
 
 Steps on the stair, and then along the corridor. The key rattling 
 in the lock. He returns the picture to his pocket, and facing around, 
 meets Zeba, who bows profoundly. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" 
 
 "Smoking!" said the turnkey, sniffing the polluted air; "werry 
 well ! That's two shilliu' more. That's not rent, it's a fine !" 
 
MR. PLIMPTON. 247 
 
 "Here is the florin, friend," said Hyland ; "now get out, if you 
 please !" 
 
 While the old man was shutUing down-stairs, Zeba walked around 
 the room and examined the walls. Then he drew his sword. 
 
 "Will sahib take tulwar," he said, politely, "or Zeba cut down 
 door ?" 
 
 " Neither, my friend," answered Hyland, laughing; " it would be 
 a difficult task, and would do no good if successful. But we shall 
 get out anon without fighting. How did you find me?" 
 
 "Sahib never fight more?" said Zeba, enquiringly. "Sahib 
 prisoner, lock up, and fight not? Sahib travel all night to find 
 Be6be, and sleep not, and then to prison come, because he steal 
 Be6be ! And no fight ! Is sahib sick ?" 
 
 "Pretty well, thank you," replied Hyland, "but fighting is not 
 the wise thing to do now. A foolish man with red eyes thought I 
 Mas the criminal, and he obtained legal authority to arrest me. If 
 I had killed him, all the world would pronounce me guilty. If I 
 wait a short time, I shall be set at liberty by lawful process, and all 
 the world will know I am innocent." 
 
 Zeba struck his weapon into the scabbard by a dexterous motion, 
 sending it home with a crash. Evidently, he considered England a 
 semi-barbarous country. 
 
 " Man came see Be6be, said have Robinson in Town Hall. Then 
 I came, ask two men where Town Hall. Man unlock door and let 
 me in. Ask for Sahib Robinson. Say, all right. Lock me in too !" 
 
 " How is — Miss Mordaunt?" said Hyland. 
 
 " Little sick. Lie down. Ask who in boat with me. Say friend. 
 Not let mc tiilk English. Say Hindoo noble no lie in Hindoostanee ! 
 Ask where Sahib Hyland go? I say, London. Ask who took 
 Be6be away ?" 
 
 " Well ?" said Hyland, as Zeba paused. 
 
 " Not know. Only think. No tell her my think. Here come 
 men on the steps." 
 
 The door oi)ened, and Mr. Plimpton, followed by the detective, 
 entered. Hyland sat with his back to the door, his elbow on the 
 window-sill, blowing smoke through the grating. 
 
 "Upon my word!" observed Mr. Plimpton, "you are right, 
 Dancer. This gentleman is particularly cool !" 
 
 " Rather warm day, though," replied Hyland, turning. "Take a 
 chair, Mr. Plimpton, and fix the bail matter. I must get away from 
 Clifton to-niffht." 
 
248 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Hyland!" said Mr. Plimpton, in blank astonishment. "What 
 the devil are you doing here?" 
 
 " Waiting for you. This enterprising friend of yours was quite 
 pressing, and I concluded to come. Your absurd laws make no 
 provisions for fool-killing. Hence he walks over England in safety." 
 
 " Where is this Robinson ?" said Mr. Plimpton, bewildered, turn- 
 ing to Dancer. The detective pointed doggedly at Hyland. 
 
 " This gentleman !" said the lawyer, white with rage. " You mis- 
 erable blockhead ! This is Mr. Hyland Rayneford ! Lord Rayne- 
 ford, for aught I know ! Do you go prowling over the country 
 arresting British noblemen, you unmitigated ass? Come in, Miss 
 Haidee. Get out, you red-eyed scarecrow, and undo this mischief 
 as far as you can ! Confound you !" 
 
 Hyland rose, threw his cigar through the grating, shook Haidee's 
 offered hand, and gave her his chair. Dancer looked from one to 
 the other, blinking his red eyes, while the old turnkey peered through 
 the half-open door in stupid wonder. 
 
 " Will you please listen to me, sir ?" said Dancer. " I found this 
 gent was the last man that had seen the lady. I found out his 
 lodgings, where his name is Robinson." 
 
 Mr. Plimpton looked at Hyland, who nodded his head in 
 confirmation. 
 
 " When Mr. Robinson stepped out, I stepped in. I looked about 
 the room a bit, and found this in a basin of water." And he un- 
 rolled a picture, handing it to Mr. Plimpton. The lawyer put up 
 his eye-glass, examined the photograph, and handed it to Haidee. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Rayneford !" she said, astonished, " how did you get 
 this?" 
 
 " I was about to take the Observatory, the other day," he an- 
 swered, "you stepped in just on the instant, and — that is the result. 
 I need not say I did not know you. I went to Bath the same even- 
 ing, met Glendare there, and he told me you were missing and that 
 was your picture. Then I endeavoured to find you." 
 
 She took the picture nearer the window and studied it more care- 
 fully. Then she offered it to him. 
 
 " It is yours," she said, shyly. " I had almost asked if I might 
 keep it." 
 
 " Keep it ?" said Hyland, promptly. " Undoubtedly you may. 
 I will get a cardboard and finish it." 
 
 " It is better as it is," she replied, " if I may have it ? You can 
 make others ?" 
 
^7?. PLIMPTON. 249 
 
 "I can take you again," said Hyland ; "that is, if you desire 
 more. I was so unlucky as to spoil the plate after takin<^ tiiat. 
 Nav ! keep it, Miss Haidee. May I enquire, Mr. Dancer, wheu I 
 shall have the ]>leasure " 
 
 Dancer jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the turnkey, who 
 was in hot debate with Mr. Plimpton. 
 
 " Don't know nothin' about any Lord Rayneford," said the turn- 
 key, obstinately. " I only know this man coomed in here with a 
 warrant, and lie cawn't get out until you bring the dockyments!" 
 
 ^'Habeas corpus T^ said Mr. Plimpton, dancing around the narrow 
 room in a towering passion. "All the newspapers will have a full 
 and true account — oh, you blundering donkey !" turning upon the 
 unfortunate Dancer. " How the devil can you undo this mess?" 
 
 " I can go to the magistrate who issued the warrant," said Mr. 
 Dancer, "and get it countersigned and cancelled. Say, Sammy, 
 come down-stairs !" 
 
 " Don't stop for a fi'-pound note or so, confound you !" whispered 
 Mr. Plimpton. " Persuade that old dunderhead to let us out, and 
 fix the paper afterwards. I woukl not have this story get out for a 
 hundred pounds! What the devil do you want?" turning fiercely 
 upon Zeba, who had touched his shoulder. The Hindoo bowed, 
 threw back his cloak, and tapped the hilt of his tulwar. 
 
 " Will cut off red head," he whispered, " if sahib say so." 
 
 "Who is this, Hyland?" said Mr. Plimpton, despairingly. "I 
 vow I cannot decide whether I am awake or suffering under some 
 infernal nightmare !" 
 
 " This is Zeba," said Hyland, " sometime sergeant in Her Majesty's 
 army ; now honourably discharged with a pension. Colonel Mor- 
 daunt will endorse him, no doubt." 
 
 The red head was thrust in, and the door thrown open. 
 
 " You can all walk out, gents," he said, civilly. " I am sorry if I 
 have made a mistake in this here business. But I'll swear I was 
 actin' under orders. And I can show 'em in black and white, too. 
 And it's a clean loas of five pounds to me " 
 
 "Get out!" said Mr. Plimpton; "put it in your bill. Come, 
 Haidee. What are you up to now, Dancer ?" 
 
 " Want the nigger with the sword," whispered Mr. Dancer. 
 
 "Nigger with sword ! You thick-skulled vagabond ! He is an 
 officer in Her Majesty's army I You'd better retire into private 
 life, Mr. Dancer. At least until you get sober. I'm blest if I don't 
 believe you'll want to arrest me next !" 
 
250 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 The cab took Haidee and her maid, escorted by Mr. Plimpton, 
 to St. Vincent's Hotel. Hyland and Zeba took another cab and 
 drove into Bristol. When the sun went down, Dr. Ijcigh and Mr. 
 Glendare appeared with Sista, and Haidee's ad intanm maid was 
 sent to her mother's house, happy in the anticipation of a permanent 
 home at Castle Dane under Haidee's domination, at the end of the 
 month. 
 
 " I wonder where Rayneford has gone?" said Mr. Plimpton, when 
 dinner was announced. " I asked him to dine here this evening." 
 
 " I saw him in Bristol," said the doctor. " He and the Hindoo 
 were just starting for Cork by the steamer. I did not know the 
 fellow. He is sunburnt and robust, and has a great beard all over 
 his face. He used to be so handsome, too ! Poor fellow ! He is a 
 perfect scarecrow now !" 
 
 " Did he say he was going to Cork ?" said Plimpton. 
 
 " Yes. By-the-bye, that reminds me. He requested me to pre- 
 sent his compliments to you, and he begs you will telegraph any 
 secret agents you may have in Cork, or any other part of Ireland, 
 to let Zeba go free." 
 
 "Ah!" stammered Mr. Plimpton. "Yes, certainly. You see 
 one of my men is down here, and the Indian looked so outlandish 
 that he wished to arrest him. No danger in Ireland though. Come, 
 don't let the dinner spoil. Glendare, take Miss Mordaunt. Come 
 on, doctor." 
 
 While Hyland was tranquilly sleeping midway the channel, 
 Haidee was examining the Clifton picture in her chamber. 
 
 " He did not want it, evidently," she murmured, " and be has 
 destroyed the negative. And he went away from that horrid prison 
 without a word. It is my fault ! Oh, yes ! He must hate even 
 to think of me. But he never asked for Juliet ! 
 
 "What in the world has he gone to Cork for? Oh, yes! I 
 know ! Isn't it in the paper to-day ? Steeple-chase ! 
 
 "What in the world made him throw Mr. Daltraau in the water? 
 Ah ! if I could only get Zeba ten minutes !" 
 
THE MEETING. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 The Meeting, 
 
 CORK liarboiir is probably the most beautiful harbour on the 
 Irisii coast. The town is not specially attractive in appear- 
 ance, though there are many points of interest in the neighbour- 
 hood. On the morning of Ilyland's arrival the town wius agog, 
 because of the hurdle races announced for the day, and the hotels 
 were all full. But Mr. Jlayneford did not appear to be con- 
 cerned about lodgings, as he and Zeba went prowling along the 
 docks as soon as they landed from the Bristol steamer. It was high 
 noon when they stei)ped aboard a schooner, fully a mile from the 
 steamer landing. 
 
 " Is the captain on board ?" asked Hyland, as a sailor approached. 
 
 " In the cabin, sir. Walk aft, please." 
 
 " What is his name ?" said Hyland. 
 
 " Cap'n Scroggs, sir," answered the sailor. " Cap'n ! here is a 
 gintleman that would spake wid ye !" 
 
 Hyland descended the stairs, leaving Zeba seated on the cabin 
 hatch. The caj)tain was at tiie little table, copying invoices. Hy- 
 land took a seat under the transom, and steadily investigated the 
 skipper. 
 
 " So !" he Said, at last, " your name is Scroggs, now ? It was 
 something else in Calcutta. Captain Scroggs of the ' Ariadne,' now. 
 Then it was Corporal Logan of Her ISIajesty's twenty-ninth foot." 
 
 " I don't remember you, sir," said the other, uneasily ; " did I 
 know you in India ?" 
 
 " Probably not," replied Hyland, coolly, " but I knew you. I 
 saw you when you were taken from the barracks. You remember? 
 Do not be disturbed. I only want some information concerning 
 your later exploits. I know all about your Calcutta history, but 
 that need not be brought to the surface. Please inform me what 
 devil instigated your latest crime ? Who employed you to carry the 
 lady off' from Clifton Downs ?" 
 
 " Excuse me a moment, sir," said the captain, rising, " I'll get 
 the papers. They are in my coat-pocket, on deck." And he slipped 
 up the stairs, drew the sliding hatch tight, and was securing the 
 fastening, when he was interrupted by a peculiar sensation in his 
 shoulder. 
 
 It was the point of a tulwar that had passed through his shirt- 
 
252 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 sleeve, and was entering his flesh as he fell back. A capstan bar 
 was leaning against the hatch, and this the captain seized with both 
 hands and raised over his head, as Zeba rose and contronted him. 
 
 "Salaam, sahib!" said Zeba. 
 
 " What the devil do you want ?" said the captain, savagely, pois- 
 ing the bar. 
 
 "Open door!" answered Zeba, politely. 
 
 The captain glanced around. The Irish sailor was coiling a rope 
 at the foot of the foremast. Kobody else in sight. It was the 
 dinner hour, and the dock was deserted, so Captain Scroggs con- 
 cluded the time propitious, and aimed a blow at- the Hindoo that 
 would have killed an ox. It missed, however, as Zeba leaped aside, 
 and made a deep indentation on the hatch. Before he could heave 
 it up again the keen weapon arose and fell, and the bar was in two 
 pieces, and the point of the tulwar at his tiiroat. 
 
 "Open door!" said Zeba, his single eye blazing with ferocity. 
 The captain recoiled a step, and Zeba pushed the hatch open with 
 his foot. 
 
 " Sahib, come up !" said Zeba. 
 
 "On the contrary," replied Hyland, "the captain will please 
 come down." 
 
 There was no escape for him. Throwing the stump of the bar on 
 the deck, he descended into the cabin. Zeba seated himself on the 
 top of the hatch. The Irish sailor, who had raised his head at the 
 moment of the encounter, returned to his rope-coiling when the 
 captain disappeared. 
 
 "May I use this paper?" said Hyland, courteously, drawing 
 some loose sheets across the table. " I shall want your signature 
 presently." 
 
 " Help yourself!" replied the captain, with surly resignation. " I 
 s'pose you're a bobby ?" 
 
 " Well," answered Mr. Rayneford, " I flattered myself that I 
 might pass for a gentleman." 
 
 " Pooh !" said the captain, disgusted, " you detective swells can 
 pass for anything, by gum ! What do you want of me ?" 
 
 " The lady. JSIiss Mordaunt." 
 
 " Xo lady aboard." 
 
 " But slie was aboard on Tuesday night. You arrived here on 
 Wednesday night. And she was not on your schooner. I can have 
 you imprisoned without bail in ten minutes on that simple statement. 
 Who can say you did not murder her ?" 
 
THE MEETING. 253 
 
 " If that is all," said the sailor, " I am all ri<rht." And he produced 
 a .slip of i)aper. ''Please road that, ^Ir. Otlicor!" 
 
 " lliiin !" said liyland, copying the paper rapidly. " This will do, 
 though defective in ortliograj)hy. Tiie signature is probably genuine. 
 Here is your acknowledgment. You will need it, I suppose, to get 
 your reward, ^\'la're were you going — I mean if I had not found 
 you? What port?" 
 
 " Ostend." 
 
 " And when did you expect to sail ?" 
 
 " To-night, with young ebb. Cargo aboard." 
 
 " And you expect to meet your employer at Ostend ? Ah, yes ! 
 I undei"stand now. Very well ! I am disposed to be lenient. 
 Answer my questions truthfully, and I will not interfere with you. 
 What amount did your employer promise for this service?" 
 
 " Fifty pound. Twenty down, and thirty more when I produce 
 this receipt." 
 
 " Then Linton Sands was already selected as Miss Mordaunt's 
 landing-place ?" 
 
 " Yes. I'm obliged to split on this here business, by gum ! That 
 is, if you mean fair. You won't ask for any names, governor ?" 
 
 "No names at present," replied Hyland, Avriting his answer. 
 "Come, man! Tell your story in your own fashion. Tell the 
 truth, or as near the truth as you can. I will not use your confession 
 against you. Zeba!" 
 
 "Sahib?" answered the Hindoo, from the hatch. 
 
 " Chant a line or two of the Song of tiie Tulwar." 
 
 The Ciiptain looked in blank dismay at the inquisitor, while the 
 strange gibberish rolled from Zeba's thi'oat. When the song ceased, 
 Hyland again addressed him. 
 
 "Have you heard that before? Passing Milford, for instance?" 
 
 " Yes !" said the captain, bewildered. 
 
 "Well," said Hyland, dipping his pen in the ink, "begin your 
 story. I will not interrupt you. Go on !" 
 
 " He came on board at Bristol, and called me Logan. Never had 
 that name except in Calcutta. Then I knovved as lie knowed — what 
 you know. So he told me to keej) siiady, and earn fifty pounds. Said 
 it was a bet, and no harm would come. I was to go to Clifton Downs 
 with one man to help. I was to take a lot of shawls which he would 
 send. I was to hang around a pile of rocks opposite Hasper Head. 
 At four o'clock there would be a lady walking there. I was to ask 
 her if she was Miss Mordauut. If she said no, I was to leave her 
 
254 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 alone. If she said yes, I was to take her aboard any way I could 
 get her. Better tell her the colonel was aboard and wanted her. If 
 she refused — to wrap her up in the shawls and take her, but to treat 
 her gently as possible. Then I was to land her with Tom Jones — 
 I mean at Linton light. He had arranged with Tom. And I must 
 have the schooner off Hasper Head in time. It all happened right. 
 I spoke to the wrong lady first. She was at the rocks, drawing. I 
 asked her if she was Miss Mordaunt, and she said no! So I backed 
 out and left her. She followed us down to the boat, after we had 
 wrapped the right one up, and asked me about five hundred ques- 
 tions. She asked me if this here schooner was a yacht. I told her 
 
 yes, because it wasn't, you know. Then she asked if Mr. , my 
 
 employer, was aboard? And I told her yes again, because he 
 wasn't. Then she said this was a horrible outrage, and she would 
 scream for help if I did not release the lady. So I got aboard as fast 
 as I could, and she waved her handkerchief at me, by gum ! as we 
 got anchor up. I suppose she put you on my track ! Of course she 
 did. No one else knew. But how the devil she got that blacky up 
 there, to overhaul me off Milford — cuss me if I know ! Would 
 you mind telling me that, just to relieve my mind?" 
 
 "She never saw him," answered Hyland, quietly; "he got his 
 information from another source. Go on." 
 
 " There is not much more. I worried the lady until she insisted 
 on going ashore, and I took her receipt when I landed her. Tom 
 had a room all fixed up at the light-house, and she was going to be 
 took off the same night. Mr. — my employer — was going to get 
 Tom's father for his sailing-master, and he knew all the shallows on 
 Linton Sands." 
 
 " And did he appoint Ostend " 
 
 " Yes. He was going to cruise up channel a bit, round by the 
 Orkneys, and then down on the other side. That gave me time to 
 take in my cargo here." 
 
 Hyland had written all this account verbatim, question and answer. 
 Then he read it aloud to the captain, who pronounced the record 
 correct. 
 
 " Now," said Hyland, " please tell me who else is implicated. I 
 do not mean your employer. But M'hat aid had you ?" 
 
 " Only my mate. He is not aboard. I let him go to the races." 
 
 "Why did you consent to commit this felony? You certainly 
 knew it was a crime, and a very serious crime. Do not fear to 
 answer. I shall not use this to harm you. Probably I shall not 
 
THE MEETING. 255 
 
 liarm any one ; but I must have an honest statement from you. If 
 Colonel Mordaunt can get his hands on you — well, I suppose he 
 ■sviil hang you ! But I prefer hanging the instigator, by this light !" 
 He wrote down the (juestion as he spoke. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Logan, submissively, " it looks like giving him 
 away ; but I am in a cussed hole ! You see, he knew all about — that 
 Calcutta business. And he said he would keep dark about that if 
 I served him well in tiiis. I am going from Ostend to Havre, and 
 liave a cargo engaged there for New York. And I thought if I 
 could give him this lift and make fifty pounds, and then get clear 
 off to the States, it would be a good job. But I made him swear on 
 the Bible that he meant no harm to the lady! And, by gum! — I 
 may as well tell it — he swore he was going to marry her before he 
 took her home !" 
 
 "Only one more word," said Hyland, "and I will tear myself 
 away from your agreeable society. Now I write — look or listen : 
 'My employer came from Calcutta in the steamship "Lord Clive," 
 a few weeks ago, and is an officer in Her Majesty's army.' If that 
 is not true, write * No' under it. If it is true, just oblige me with 
 your signature. I do not ask for any names, but I want the truth." 
 And he handed the pen to the captain, and pushed the paper over to 
 his side of the table. The sailor held the pen irresolutely a moment. 
 
 " Is this all ?" he said. 
 
 " All." 
 
 The other wrote, in a bold hand, " John Scroggs" at the bottom 
 of the sheet. 
 
 " I will have to trouble you to add one of your other names," ob- 
 served Hyland, courteously. "Suppose you add there, 'otherwise' 
 — your last Calcutta name ?" 
 
 The sailor growled some inarticulate reply, which did not sound 
 like a pious ejaculation, and added "William Logan." 
 
 " Farewell, captain !" said Hyland, rising. " It is not probable 
 that we shall meet again. May I advise you to keep on the sunny 
 side of the law hereafter ? I am not very old, but I have yet to find 
 a solitary man who prospered in dishonesty. That is a poor argu- 
 ment, I know. But if you will try some of the legitimate pursuits 
 for which you are qualified you will probably be surprised to find 
 how pleasant your life will be. Why, man, you may obliterate your 
 evil record — I mean so far as this life is concerned. And if you 
 take any interest in another life — I suppose — you had better consult 
 a clergyman !" 
 
256 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " I flatter myself," said Hyland, as he walked ashore, " that I 
 delivered a very passable moral lecture, though the conclusion was 
 rather lame. Zeba, where shall we go ?" 
 
 " Has sahib got all he want from captain ?" said the Hindoo. 
 
 "All ! And now I want Miles ! Aliles ! my brother I" 
 
 Zeba drew forth his weapon, circled it around his head, tossed it, 
 flashing, up in the air, caught it by the narrow hilt as it descended, 
 threw a cord over a projecting yard of the "Ariadne," and set the 
 tulwar M-hirling at the end of the string. 
 
 " Tulwar alive to-day !" observed the Hindoo. " Have little 
 fight !" 
 
 It ceased its revolutions, the point steadily turned down the bay, 
 the direction not changing with the slight vibrations of the schooner. 
 
 " Must go back !" said Zeba, with unflinching gravity. 
 
 "Back?" said Hyland. 
 
 " Yes. Take first boat. Xo matter where go ! Here boat ! 
 Much people go on board. Sahib, come !" 
 
 It was a small steamer, just casting ofl" from the dock adjoining 
 the berth of the " Ariadne." Hyland, followed by Zeba, leaped on 
 board as the wheels began to revolve. 
 
 " Liverpool, sir?" said an official with a gold band around his cap. 
 
 "Yes," replied Hyland, somewhat bewildered. 
 
 " Get tickets, sir, at this window. Cannot promise a berth. The 
 'China' is unusually full. You will have to arrange with the purser." 
 
 Hyland hardly noticed his surroundings until they passed out at 
 the mouth of the harbour. A black-hulled steamer, with red fun- 
 nel, sea-stained. A gangway passed from the wheel-house of the 
 small vessel, and a stream of people passing over it to the steamer. 
 Gazing curiously at the strange faces on board, he is caught by the 
 shoulder and waist. 
 
 " Hyland ! Can it be you ?" said a familiar voice. 
 
 " Miles !" And the two stalwart men turned their faces to sea- 
 ward to hide the moisture that welled up from full hearts and 
 showed in their eves. 
 
A CHALLENGE. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 A Challenge. 
 
 CASTLEDAXE was inhabited. The "improvements/' which 
 is the name given to the unspeakable horror of" house repairs 
 in civilized society, were postponed until later in the autumn. The 
 colonel was regaining health rai)iclly. Miss Juliet had gone to 
 iiondon to inspect a house recently purchased, and which was also 
 open to improvements. It had been agreed that Juliet should reg- 
 ulate the repairs to the town house, and Haidee should have full 
 sway at Castledane. To cut a doorway through solid stone walls; 
 to fill up a window with masonry, and strew the grounds near the 
 house with rubbish ; to make the atmosphere reek with odours of 
 paint, while an army of workmen in soiled apparel infested every 
 quiet ^ook — these were the pleasant dreams of the gentle im- 
 provers. 
 
 The party at Castledane was composed of Mr. Glendare and 
 Doctor Leigh ; Mr. Plimpton and Mr. Daltman. Haidee was host- 
 ess, and on hospitable cares intent. Mr. Daltman, who was assidu- 
 ous in his attentions, was constantly baffled by incursions of domes- 
 tics requiring ]\Iiss Mordaunt's instructions. He had relinquished 
 his cruise, or rather had postponed it, until he could make up his 
 party. The yacht was in dock at Bristol. 
 
 A little time after breakfast, Mr. Daltman was on a camp-stool, 
 under the library window, and he overheard a conversation between 
 Colonel Mordaunt and the lawyer. They were evidently discussing 
 a will, and the listener was stricken dumb by a few words from the 
 colonel, distinctly spoken. 
 
 "But Haidee must be specially provided for!" Then the voices 
 sunk into lower tones, and Mr. Daltman lost several sentences. 
 Presently the colonel's voice was raised a little, and the listener 
 caught another announcement. 
 
 " But Haidee inherits nothing from me, I tell you ! You know 
 she is not my daughter !" 
 
 This was the intelligence that confounded Mr. Daltman. And 
 while still bewildered there came a final shot. 
 
 " No use to talk about Castledane," said the colonel, positively, 
 " let the law settle that. I have no power to disturb the title, if I 
 would. Give Haidee all the consols." 
 
 As Haidee happened to approach at this juncture, Mr. Daltman 
 
 17 
 
258 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 thought it politic to move. He threw away his cigar, and met her 
 on the lawn, and out of earshot of the library. The charming young 
 lady looked smaller and more childlike to Daltman. Heretofore 
 when he looked at her she represented five hundred acres of park 
 and the bulky ruin of Castle Dane, to say nothing of the mansion, 
 which held twenty guests without crowding. Now she had shrunken 
 into the compass of an ordinary school-girl, without even a definite 
 amount in the three per cents. Nothing of her own — and the col- 
 onel positively growing younger every day ! It was beneficial on 
 the whole, as he could now show disinterested affection. His own 
 fortune was big enough. It was hard though — deuced hard — to 
 think of Juliet taking some chucklehead who should be lord of 
 Castledane ! 
 
 " I am glad to see the colonel improving so rapidly," said Dalt- 
 man, as he joined her ; " he looks ten years younger already." 
 
 " Yes. He shall not go back to India," replied Haidee ; " he has 
 promised me that. Just now he is very full of my adventures. He 
 is going to discover the ' marauder,' he says." 
 
 " Has he any suspicions ?" asked her companion. 
 
 " I think not. He sent the detective to Linton Sands yesterday. 
 That dreadful man there drinks, and the detective expects to dis- 
 cover some clue. The vessel went to Cork, and — some one has 
 gone there too." 
 
 " What object could your abductor have ?" said Daltman, enquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Money." 
 
 " Has it occurred to you that some one might have seen you, and 
 being carried away by all-controlling passion, ran this desperate 
 risk in the hope of winning you?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" answered Haidee, promptly, " that is not a thinkable 
 proposition." 
 
 "Thinkable proposition!" muttered Daltman. " "Where did you 
 pick up these phrases ? You have listened to Glendare and Rayne- 
 ford, wrangling over some German metaphysics ! Anything is 
 thinkable !" 
 
 " I suppose," said Haidee, quietly, " that. Mr. Scroggs was not a 
 victim to the sudden enchantment you suggest " 
 
 " No. But he may have been employed by another." 
 
 " Yes. And the other could not have had very violent attachment 
 to me, or he would not liave placed me in custody of Mr. Scroggs ! 
 I hope he will not be found ! If he is a gentleman, papa will shoot 
 
A CHALLENGE. 259 
 
 him. If he is not, he will haii«r iiirn. But Zeba is looking for him, 
 and will be sure to find him. Oh, dear !" 
 
 " Zeba !" said Daltman, with a start. '' I forgot about Zeba. The 
 bUick rascal was at the light-house tiiat night ! He was with the 
 scoundrel that " 
 
 "Put vou in the water?" said ITaidee, as he paused. 
 
 "I should like to see him," said Daltman, through his set 
 
 teeth. 
 
 " So should I !" This was said in so low a whisper that Daltman 
 
 only heard a sigh. 
 
 " Here comes Glendare," said Daltman, " his eyes blazing through 
 his spectacles. What is up, Hamish ?" 
 
 Mr. Glendare put a paper in Haidee's hand. " Read !" he said, 
 " here is great news !" 
 
 Haidee read aloud : " Liverpool. Hyland Rayneford to Hamish 
 Glendare, George Hotel, Bath. My brother arrived by Ounarder 
 to-dav. We go immediately to Hawkley. But shall stop in Bristol 
 to-night. All well." 
 
 " Liverpool !" said Haidee. " Why, he went to Cork only two 
 davsago! Does papa know?" 
 
 " Yes," said Glendare. " The mes.sage was sent out from Bath, 
 and has just arrived. I showed your father, of course, and he sent 
 me for you. This is joyful intelligence, eh, Frank?" 
 
 " Um ! Ah ! Yes, certainly !" said Daltman, looking after 
 Haidee, as she floated over the lawn. " What the devil was she 
 saying about Cork?" 
 
 " Oh ! You did not know^ about it ?" said Mr. Glendare. " Zeba 
 and Hyland went to Cork to overhaul the vessel that carried Haidee 
 away. ' * The Ermine,' or some such name. Hyland found out 
 somehow. He has been prowling about the mouth of the channel 
 with Zeba. The colonel is bloodthirsty. Zeba is a hyena. And 
 Ray n (' ford " 
 
 "What of Rayneford?" said Daltman, with a malignant glare in 
 
 his eyes. 
 
 " Rayneford would not be in Liverpool unless he had finished 
 his search. He probably has the agents of the abductor in prison. 
 From Haidee's account, I judge the man — the miscreant who 
 planned the outrage — must have money. But all the money in 
 England will not buy him off if either one of the three can get at 
 him. And if all three should fail " 
 
 "Well, wliatthen?" 
 
260 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Then I, Hamish Glendare, will take up the case, and I shall not 
 fail." 
 
 Daltman looked with admiration into the eyes of the truculent 
 parson flashing through his spectacles. 
 
 " Why, Hamish !" he said, "you look positively bloodthirsty !" 
 
 " Consider the provocation !" replied Glendare. " The scoundrel 
 seized and carried away this innocent child, kept her in untold terror 
 two nights and a day " 
 
 "But can you think of no palliation?" said Daltman. "Miss 
 Haidee is no child. She is a most attractive woman. The fellow 
 may be madly in love with her " 
 
 "Love!" said the missionary, indignantly. "Frank, you disgust 
 me! To talk to me of love, when you know this man subjected 
 Haidee to unspeakable horrors. What do you suppose were her 
 thoughts in the thirty hours of captivity ? Among rude people, the 
 one woman on the island speaking only an unknown tongue ; the 
 man half drunk all the time, and whole drunk generally. The fel- 
 low who planned the outrage is no fool, and he must have known 
 all this. Hanging is a mild punishment for him !" 
 
 " Mr. Glendare," said Colonel Mordaunt, whose step had been 
 inaudible in the soft grass, "you will go to Bristol to meet the 
 Raynefords?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly," answered Mr. Glendare. 
 
 " Well ! The train is due at six. Bring them directly here. We 
 will wait dinner." 
 
 " Dinner at eight," said Haidee, who had followed the colonel. 
 " Take the grey horses. They can do it in seventy minutes." 
 
 "And I will go with you!" said Daltman, suddenly. "I want 
 to see about the yacht, anyhow. And, colonel, if the tide serves, I 
 may go down the river. Will you excuse me if I absent myself a 
 few days ?" * 
 
 " Certainly. But you had better wait for a change of wind. Due 
 west now." 
 
 " I will decide when I see my sailing-master. I'll get my valise 
 and be ready in five minutes, Hamish." 
 
 When the carriage reached Bristol there was an hour to spare. 
 Daltman said he expected to find Mr. Brentam at the hotel. He 
 would look for him and return before six. But he went first to the 
 docks and examined the sailing-master of the " Juliet" respecting 
 tides and winds. The yacht could go out at dusk. AVeather good 
 enough. Breeze a little stiffish, but none to hurt. So he left his 
 
A CHALLENGE. 261 
 
 valise in tlie cabin. Then he went to find his uncle. Mr. Brentam 
 had just gone to Clifton, and would return to-morrow. Back to the 
 station, which he reached in time to see the colonel's carriage drive 
 away. A gentleman and lady on the back seat. Mv. Glendare and 
 another stranger, an elderly gentleman, on the front seat. Hylaud 
 on the box with the driver. 
 
 "Clifton, sir? All the way to the Rocks!" It was the driver 
 of the omnibus who spoke. Daltman entered the vehicle and took 
 a seat next a dark-skinned passenger. It was Zeba. 
 
 " Hi !" said Daltman. " Is it you, Zeba ?" 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" 
 
 " Where are you from ?" enquired Daltman, scanning the Hindoo's 
 altered appearance curiously. He had his red coat with the ser- 
 geant's bands on the sleeve, his white turban, and uniform trousers. 
 The croas straps for bayonet and cartridge-box were wanting, but he 
 wore his tulwar, as of old. " Why, you are in full uniform ! Not 
 in the service ?" 
 
 " Discharged," said Zeba, politely. " But paper say may wear 
 uniform." 
 
 " But you cannot wear a sergeant's coat if you are a servant !" 
 said Daltman, rudely. " I suppose you are Mr. Rayueford's 
 servant ?" 
 
 " No servant !" replied Zeba, gravely. " Sahib Hyland friend, 
 not master !" 
 
 Daltman laughed derisively. The omnibus rolled awav from the 
 station, following the colonel's carriage. Instead of turning in the 
 direction of Castledane, the carriage took the Clifton road. There 
 were three or four i)assengers in the omnibus, all of whom got out 
 at the outskirts of Clifton, and Zeba and his ex-officer were the only 
 " insides." 
 
 " Have you been to Cork ?" ftiid Daltman, when they were alone. 
 
 " Yes, sahib. Find Lord Rayneford there." 
 
 " Did you find anything else?" 
 
 " Sahib Hyland look," replied Zeba, cautiously. 
 
 " It was Rayneford who was with you at Linton Sands," said 
 Daltman — "I mean in the yellow coat, the other night?" 
 
 "Sahib know him?" enquired the Hindoo. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Hi ! this is the hotel. Listen ! Say to Mr. Hyland 
 Rayneford that I will be at the Observatory, and will wait for him. 
 Do you understand ?" 
 
 "Yes, sahib. Will tell." And Zeba descended and entered the 
 
262 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 hotel, while Mr. Daltman passed on to the Downs. He reached the 
 Observatory, and seating himself on the bench near the building, 
 waited. In a few minutes Hyland turned the corner, walking rap- 
 idly, and stopping suddenly before him, bowed. 
 
 " "What is your pleasure?" said he, coldly. 
 
 " Um ! That depends. Suppose I say I am your enemy ?" 
 
 " I hope you are," replied Hyland. " I am certainly yours !" 
 
 " Will you fight?" said Daltman, starting up. " Out here by the 
 Kocks, or down in Nightingale Valley. An hour hence. I have 
 pistols in Bristol, and will be punctual." 
 
 " I cannot fight you, Mr. Daltman," said Hyland, after a jxiuse. 
 " The temptation is very urgent, but I dare not ! I should rejoice 
 to kill you, but cannot stain my name. I know everything." 
 
 " So much the more reason why I should kill you !" retorted the 
 other, savagely, as he raised his clenched hand. "A blow may 
 awaken your courage, curse you !" 
 
 Hyland caught his arm as it descended, held him a moment in a 
 grip of such tenacity that he was utterly helpless, then threw him 
 backward upon the bench. 
 
 " Heed what I say !" said Hyland, sternly. " You are a base 
 reptile, but your kindred are my friends ! To-morrow, if I speak 
 the word, your name will be stricken from the army rolls, and you 
 will be an outcast from all society. I have the written confession 
 of Logan and of Jones, the drunken light-house keeper. I know 
 why you perpetrated this desperate villainy, and — only one other 
 knows, and she has promised to remain silent. Oh, Frank ! I am 
 heartbroken about you ! I always knew you were horribly selfish 
 and unscrupulous, but you were brave and jolly, and I thought you 
 were a gentleman. I cannot bear to destroy you ! God forgive me 
 if I do wrong in this ; but I cannot be your executioner. I know 
 the disgrace would kill you. Will* you obey me if I show you a 
 way of escape?" 
 
 " Yes," said Daltman, with white lips. 
 
 " Then take your yacht and disappear ! If you cannot cross the 
 ocean in so small a vessel, go to Ostend and join your confederate, 
 Logan. He is going to the States. In a month or two write — to 
 Mildred, and we will send you money." 
 
 " And your confessions " stammered Daltman. 
 
 *' Shall die with me ! I will shield your name for Mildred's sake. 
 Trust me to avert all suspicion from you. I dare not do it if you 
 remain in the country, or in Her Majesty's service." 
 
REUNION. 263 
 
 " Touch my hand once, Hyland. Thank you ! I'll obey to the 
 letter. Farewdl !" 
 
 That night the " Juliet" went to pieces on Linton Sands. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Reunion. 
 
 "A /l~R. GLENDARE and Zeba were the only occupants of the 
 ■^-^ carriage when it returned to Castledane. The latter re- 
 ceived a cordial welcome from the colonel, and an injunction in 
 Pracrit from Haidee to keep within call until she found an oppor- 
 tunity to converse more at length with him. The excuse for the 
 non-appearance of the Raynefords was, first, tliat Lord Rayneford 
 had his wife and her father in his party; and, second, that Mr. 
 Brentam and his niece were to meet them in Clifton by appoint- 
 ment. It was quite nine o'clock when they left the dinner-table — 
 Haidee to investigate Zeba, on the east terrace, and Mr. Glendare 
 and the colonel to fumigate the library. 
 
 " It was a disappointment to miss the Raynefords," observal the 
 colonel ; " perhaps we can get them to-morrow. What is my lady 
 like?" 
 
 " She resembles Haidee somewhat," replied Mr. Glendare, " though 
 rather more robust. She was so shy and reticent that I could not 
 draw her out successfully." 
 
 *' An American lady, I suppose ?" said the colonel. " There must 
 be some romance about this match. Lord Rayneford evidently went 
 to America for her. !N^o other motive can be imagined. Is she 
 thoroughbred ?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly. Her father is an Englishman beyond doubt, and 
 a gentleman." 
 
 *' Did you hear his name ?" said the colonel, carelessly. 
 
 " Yes. Mr. Dale. He is from Somerset, I fancy. What is the 
 matter ?" 
 
 The colonel had started from the lounge, dropped his cheroot on 
 the floor, and was standing at Glendare 's side. 
 
 " Did he know you came from Castledane — from me ?" 
 
 " I think not. I met Hyland first, and he and his brother were 
 busy with luggage. There was a great lot of it. I tiUkcd with 
 
264 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 them while Mr. Dale and his daughter waited on the platform. "SYe 
 drove them over to Clifton, and then came directly back. Nothing 
 was said about Castledane, as I had already received Lord Eayne- 
 ford's excuses. There was some business with Mr. Brentam that 
 was apparently urgent." 
 
 '•'■ And you heard no other name but Mr. Dale's ?" said the colonel. 
 " Can it be possible " 
 
 " I heard him call Lady Rayneford, Annot." The colonel rang 
 the bell. 
 
 "Tell the coachman to — you had the grays, Glendare? Tell him 
 to put his best horse — the dog-cart is best — the dog-cart soon as 
 possible. I am going to Clifton. Make haste !" 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," said the footman, reappearing in a moment. 
 " The dog-cart will be here in a minute. But Sam can drive you to 
 the station in time to catch the up train " 
 
 " Good !" said the colonel. " Haidee, get your hat and shawl — 
 not a minute to spare. And if we catch the train, let Sam drive 
 the carriage to Clifton and bring us back. What hotel, Glendare?" 
 
 "St. Vincent's. May I enquire without impropriety what all 
 this means?" 
 
 " Keep house for me, my dear fellow, until I return," replied the 
 colonel. " Here is the cart. Up, Haidee ! Sixteen minutes, Sara." 
 
 " That is three more'n I want, sir," replied Sam. " G'long !" 
 
 Zeba crawled in from the terrace, coiled himself up in a corner 
 of the library, and went to sleep. Beebe, who had just begun her 
 investigation when her father's summons called her in, had laid 
 stringent injunctions upon the unhappy Hindoo to Avait her return. 
 She had asked him fourteen questions in one sentence, and required 
 categorical answers to each. He had previously been pumped dry 
 by Mr. Glendare during the drive from Clifton. Haidee asked no 
 questions until they were gliding over the iron road on their way to 
 Bristol. They had a carriage to themselves. 
 
 " Now, papa," she said, " if you will please tell me where we are 
 going, and what for, I will be very thankful." 
 
 " What for, child?" replied the colonel. " AYell, first, I am going 
 to look for a niece for myself and a cousin for you. Second, for a 
 brother-in-law for myself and an uncle for you. Lady Rayneford 
 is your cousin, I think — nay, I am sure. It would be cruel indeed 
 if it were not so. Poor child ! you have been brought up in igno- 
 rance of your only relations. My sister, my only sister, married 
 Mr. Dale. They went to America twenty-five years ago. I went 
 
reunion: 2C5 
 
 to India soon after, and there was no intercourse between us after 
 our separation. Lord Rayneford found her daujjjhter in America, 
 and has brought her to Clifton, his wife. Gleiuhire only knew she 
 was Miss Dale, and her name wsis Annot." 
 
 " You have never told me about these relations," said Haidee. 
 " I thought we had no kindred in the world." 
 
 " And therefore you think of increasing our kindred !" said the 
 colonel, slyly. " You little goose ! You thought I would not dis- 
 cover your secret !" 
 
 " What can you mean, papa?" said Haidee, blushing safely in the 
 d i m ly-1 ighted carriage. 
 
 "Have you not an admirer, an Indian friend who has developed 
 into a lover? Ah! you don't answer! But I think I have dis- 
 covered his intentions. In fact, he said to me to-day, in a very 
 sheepish manner, that he thought of marrying !" 
 
 " I do not see how that concerns me," replied Haidee, majestically. 
 
 " I have no proofs," §aid the colonel, laughing; " he only said he 
 bad an old attachment — there was some obstacle, he said, but he 
 would overcome it in time. But he is too old for you, child ! ' I 
 may not win her for some months,' he said, ' but I shall, event- 
 ually !' " 
 
 " Will he ?" said Haidee, in a whisper. " We shall see !" 
 
 " He is a good man, Haidee," continued the colonel ; " a gentleman 
 of good blood, and with good enough fortune." 
 
 " You are very kind, sir," said Haidee, resentfully, " to offer me, 
 especially as he has not asked me " 
 
 " But he has ! And you told him your affections were already 
 bestowed " < 
 
 "Of whom are you speaking, papa?" said Haidee, in fine wrath. 
 " The wretch ! to tell such infamous stories ! My affections bestowed I 
 Did he enlighten you as to the beloved object, too?" 
 
 " Certainly !" replied the colonel, with provoking coolness. " He 
 said it was — but I have no right to betray his confidence. I suppose 
 you know ?" 
 
 " Upon my word !" said Haidee, in white heat by this time. " I 
 don't know, of course, who this well-born gentleman is. But I do 
 know he is a — mendacious coxcomb! /tell him my affections were 
 engaged! /.' Oh, if he will dare to t;Uk such horrid rubbish to 
 me, I'll — make Sista scratch his eyes out !" 
 
 " Well, well !" said the colonel, " here is a coil with a vengeance ! 
 I only intended to tease you, my dear, and I have raised the devil. 
 
266 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 However, be mollified! I promise to give my consent, whichever 
 one you take. What the deuce did he come to me for, confound 
 him ! until he had made matters right with you ?" 
 
 " Please t«ll me the name of my " 
 
 " I'll tell you nothing !" interrupted the colonel. " Find out for 
 yourself. Here is Bristol. Now for a cab. Come on, you irritable 
 little vixen !" 
 
 " I only wished to ask, sir," said Haidee, plaintively, " the name 
 of the gentleman who has won my alTections. I don't care about 
 the other." 
 
 " Exactly !" responded the colonel. " Now that is the very name 
 I shall not mention. He is a gallant fellow, though, and I believe 
 I like him best. Have your own way, as usual ! Here is a cab. 
 Get in ! St. Vincent's Hotel, Clifton. * How long?" 
 
 " Fifteen minutes, y'r honour," said Cabby, as he shut them in. 
 
 " Make it twelve, and charge me an extra shilling," said the col- 
 onel. "Now, Haidee, if I find my niece,' as I hope, I'll cut you 
 off with a shilling, and that will make two. And then you will 
 have to take my confidant, who has more money than t'other fellow." 
 
 " I would not take him if he owned all England !" answered 
 Haidee, hotly. 
 
 " My dear, you had better get Leigh to bring back your neuralgia !" 
 said the colonel ; " you used to be so sweet-tempered and patient ! 
 But since you have been robust your temper has — well — got short !" 
 
 " Because I was not beset by fools and story-tellers," said Haidee, 
 promptly. " The Hindoos were not fools, though they could lie 
 quite glibly. But Mr. Daltman " 
 
 " What about Mr. Daltman ?" said the colonel, with surprise in 
 his tones. 
 
 '' Nothing. Except what you have said." 
 
 " I've said nothing about Daltman. Good heavens ! You did 
 not think I meant Daltman ! If he has been courting you — con- 
 found him, I'll break his neck !" 
 
 " Tell me instantly, sir ! — I mean, if you please, who has talked 
 to you about courting me ?" 
 
 " Well, Glendare ! He is Laird of Glendare now, you know." 
 
 Haidee sat silent, trying to remember how much wine had been 
 imbibed at dinner. She had tal^en none. Mr. Glendare had taken 
 only one glass of claret. And the venerable colonel had the claret 
 jug at his elbow all the time. But he was drinking beer. He had 
 divided his bottle with her. It could not be intoxication. Then it 
 
REUNION. 267 
 
 must be some strange mistake. Glenilare ! Thirty-five, if he was 
 a day ! And he called her " Jlaidcc" ami had no more love in his 
 body than a turnip ! She wouUl like to laiij^h out loudly at the 
 mere thought ! But — t'other fellow ! What wretched inebriate was 
 meant by t'other fellow? 
 
 " Clifton !" said the colonel. " Here is the hotel !" 
 
 Haidee followed the colonel into the hotel. Then, after a mo- 
 mentary delay, they were ushered up-stairs into a parlour on the 
 second floor. Then the colonel was shaking hands violently with two 
 gentlemen, one fifty years old at least; the other about twenty-five, 
 and like Sir Hyland. Sir Hyland standing apart in the bay-win- 
 dow. Then the colonel embraced a lovely lady, and led her to 
 Haidee, and the lovely lady embraced her vigourously ! And every- 
 body was talking and laughing, and weeping a little. And when 
 Haidee recovered consciousneas she was seated in the bay-window, 
 with Lady Rayneford's arm still around her. 
 
 '^ Every one of you must go to Castledane !" said the colonel, 
 with the tone of one accustomed to command. " Every one of you, 
 and to-night! Don't speak! I will hear no denial! Dale, there 
 is no roof in England excepting mine that can shelter you. Lord 
 Rayneford, do not deny me, I implore you. Haidee ! Why don't 
 you speak ?" 
 
 "I have cousin Annot here, sir," replied Haidee; "and if she 
 will not go with me, I shall stay here with her." 
 
 " But we have a prior engagement," said Lord Rayneford ; " I 
 would gladly accept your invitation if I could. But " 
 
 " My carriage will be here in an hour," said the colonel ; " we 
 came by train. You certainly have no engagement at this hour. 
 And I will send you back to-morrow. There are only six of us. 
 AVe will be at Castledane by midnight. You must come !" 
 
 Miles looked irresolutely at Annot. Annot looked at Hyland. 
 Hyland was looking at Haidee, who returned his glance with her 
 grand eyes full of imperious authority. 
 
 " Why don't you speak, sir?" she said. " I have a quarrel with 
 you, which must be settled at Castledane. Ah ! I know some of 
 your exploits !" 
 
 " Let us go. Miles," said Hyland, submissively. 
 
 "Yes!" said Annot. And Haidee kissed her. 
 
 " Make your preparations, then," said Colonel Mordaunt. " The 
 carriage will hold all of us and such traps as you may require. But 
 you will not sleep to-night ! I warn you that the whole night will 
 
268 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 be tafeen up with questions and answers. Look at the moon, just 
 coming over the tree-tops ! The ride to Castledane will be like 
 enchantment !" 
 
 " I am a believer in enchantment," said Hyland. " When you 
 have all told your stories I will relate mine. I have stubbornly re- 
 sisted the occult spell that has led me along until now. And now 
 I lay down my arms and submit. When I go back to India I'll 
 join the fakirs." 
 
 " You may safely promise that, Hyland/' said his brother. 
 " Colonel, our engagement is with Mr. Brentam, who was to meet 
 us here to-night. But he sent an apology instead, and promises to 
 come to-morrow morning. Some unexpected business took him to 
 Milford this evening." 
 
 " Have you seen Frank ?" said the colonel to Hyland. " He came 
 here to meet you." 
 
 " I saw him only a few minutes," replied Hyland, cautiously. " I 
 think he was going to sea in his yacht. He said so when we parted." 
 
 " Did you see him at the station ?" enquired the colonel. " Glen- 
 dare was greatly annoyed because he could not find him." 
 
 " No. I met him out on the Downs," said Hyland, avoiding 
 Haidee's big eyes. 
 
 " This is a bad night to go out into the channel," observed the 
 colonel. " It is very pleasant on land. But this western breeze is 
 a half hurricane at sea." 
 
 " It is possible that he took Mr. Brentam to Milford. Indeed, it 
 is quite probable. His note intimates as much. And if the sea is 
 too rough, they may wait at Milford for better weather." 
 
 " Have you any — engagement — for this week ?" said Haidee, still 
 watching him. 
 
 " None." 
 
 " Because I was going to ask you to take your apparatus with you 
 to Castledane. I want three hundred views taken !" 
 
 " Ah, if I dared to propose such a thing ! But I have all my 
 apparatus in my wagon. And I have a gorgeous pony that knows 
 every foot of the road to Castledane. And the M-agon has a great 
 broad seat, cushioned, that will hold three persons comfortably. 
 And the moon is getting higher and brighter every moment. Now, 
 if you two charming ladies would go with me, I would get Tommy 
 ready before the carriage arrives " 
 
 "Done!" said Aunot, promptly. "Away with you! We shall 
 be ready !" 
 
THE PICTURE. 269 
 
 " But, Annot !" said Lord Rayneford, " I cannot go in Hyland's 
 
 trap " 
 
 " No. But you may drive behind us in the carriage." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said Ilaidee. "Let us go, my lord. It is such a 
 
 duck of a pony. I know him ! Run, Mr. Rayneford, please! We 
 
 shall be ready." 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 The Picture. 
 
 WHEN he parted from Hyland, Mr. Frank Daltman was hor- 
 ribly demoralised. He had been under more or less appre- 
 hension for some days previously, but the succinct account which 
 Hyland had announced was far more elaborate than his worst fears. 
 The loss of his status in society, the dishonour that would attach to 
 his name, were formidable dangers, and the only exodus from the 
 impending disaster was just what Rayneford suggested. He must 
 pass away, for a time at least, from the knowledge of all England. 
 
 As he turned the corner, coming from the Downs, the omnibus 
 that had brought him from Bristol was just starting on the return 
 trip. He climbed up to the top, and sat in moody silence until he 
 reached Bristol. It was a short distance to the docks. He would 
 go down to the yacht. Entering the handsome cabin, he found his 
 uncle, Mr. Brentam. 
 
 " Ah, Frank !" said Mr. Brentam. " I was just writing a note to 
 you. Your man on deck there says you are going to sea to-night." 
 
 " I was thinking of it," replied Daltman, irresolutely. 
 
 " I have to go to Milford," said Mr. Brentam. " The steamboat 
 has been gone an hour. There is a brig going out presently, in tow 
 of a tug, and the captain says he can land me at Milford, where he 
 drops the brig." 
 
 " He can tow the " Juliet" also, no doubt. The wind is against 
 us, but from Milford Haven we have plenty of sea-room. Where is 
 the tug ?" 
 
 "The captain is on deck now, at least I left him there a minute 
 ago." 
 
 Daltman ascended the stair and found the captain conversing with 
 his own sailing-master. The bargain was quickly concluded, and 
 the delicate masts of the " Juliet" passed under the high bridge while 
 
270 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 it was still light enough for the Clifton loungers to distinguish her 
 outline, Mr. Brentara was accustomed to a half-hour's nap after 
 dinner, and he betook himself to the starboard state-room, leaving 
 Mr. Daltraan in a reverie at the cabin table. 
 
 "He will get her, no doubt!" muttered Daltman, "and all my 
 scheming comes to naught. I don't mind Castledane. It is the 
 girl herself I want. If I had taken Milly's advice I should not have 
 been in this mess. Too late ! Rayneford would tell the whole story. 
 But he won't get Castledane either. By Jove ! I'll write him !" 
 
 He drew the writing materials across the table, and dashed off a 
 few lines. 
 
 " Dear Rayneford, — One good turn deserves another. I will 
 give you a bit of information that may be valuable to you. H. can- 
 not inherit the property. She is not the real daughter. I had this 
 from the lips of the colonel himself to-day. You used to hold cer- 
 tain theories about marrying for money. If you still hold them, 
 you can very safely venture to claim the property which you won 
 when we gambled for the two in Calcutta. You remember. You 
 may get plenty of happiness, but very little tin. I tell you this in 
 some small requital for your advice to me when we parted. 
 
 "Yours, Frank Daltman." 
 
 He sealed the note and addressed it. When Mr. Brentam's nap 
 was finished, he came into the cabin, and Daltman gave him the 
 letter to mail at Milford. 
 
 " Hyland ?" said his uncle. " No use to mail it. I shall see him 
 at Clifton to-morrow. I have an appointment with Miles, and 
 Hyland will be with him." 
 
 "Very well, uncle," replied Frank. "And please tell Milly I 
 will write her as soon as I land. Do you notice the increased swell? 
 We have gotten well down channel. Milford light must be visible 
 now." 
 
 An hour afterwards the tug cast off the brig, and dropping along- 
 side the "Juliet," took Mr. Brentam aboard. There was some 
 bungling over the rope that held the yacht. The brig was getting 
 sails set, and so was the " Juliet," and the two vessels were rubbing 
 their hulls together, and while a lubber on board the yacht was still 
 labouring over the after-line, Frank closed his own cabin hatch and 
 stepped on board the brig. There was no little confusion on both 
 vessels, as the wind was high and the sea rough. The mate of the 
 
THE PICTURE. 271 
 
 brig came aft with an axe in his liand and cut the entangled line 
 M'itli one blow. The yacht drifted away, running northwest, while 
 the brig, close-hauled, took a southwest course. 
 
 Mr. Daltnian sjvt unnoticed on the quarter-deck another hour. 
 The impulse to leave the "Juliet," without a word of warning, came 
 upon him suddenly. He had a good lot of money in his pocket- 
 book, and could get along several months after he reached America. 
 The brig was bound for New York. What story should he tell? 
 
 " Hillo, shipmate !" said a gruff voice at his elbow; " where from, 
 and whither bound ?" 
 
 " Ah !" answered Daltman, coolly, "where is the captain ?" 
 
 " Here, at your sarvice !" said the other. " What lark is this?" 
 
 "No lark at all, my dear captain. I am Mr. Trelawney, of 
 Brampton, Cornwall. My doctoi-s have sent me to sea. I was 
 going to take a trip in my friend's yacht; but I felt uneasy about 
 her, as she seemed so flimsy when rubbing up against your big ship, 
 that I just scrambled aboard. Left my overcoat and portmanteau, 
 by Jove ! In Daltman's cabin, you know. We had been wining 
 just moderately, you know; but my head is not worth a sixpence 
 since I have been ill ! It's all right, you know. But lend me an 
 overcoat and tell me how much passage-money you want. By Jove ! 
 Cawn't you make this infernal ship stand still a minute?" 
 
 " Well, I'm blest !" said the captain, " if this ar'n't a devil of a go ! 
 Do you know where we are going ?" 
 
 " Not in the least, and don't care. You can go to the devil if you 
 like ! By Jove ! Cawn't you turn the ship around, so the water 
 won't shake her so blasted unpleasantly ! Hi ! I must get some 
 place to lie down ! I say, captain, when will you land?" 
 
 " In about twenty-five days, if we're lucky," answered the skipper. 
 "I don't know what to say about this here business. I have no 
 'commodations for passengers. No stores aboard; no license " 
 
 " Blast the stores and license !" said the passenger, with a hiccough. 
 " Only take me some place where I can lie down ! And stop the 
 infernal ship, or the wind. By Jove, what a roll that was! I say, 
 captain, let me have a drop of brandy, will you ?" 
 
 "Here, mate!" said the captain, "help this gentleman down. 
 Better give him the berth next the china-closet. He has been with 
 another gentleman, and the other one took a little too much wine, 
 and tiiat makes this one sleepy. Mr. Trawny " 
 
 " Trelawney !" shouted the passenger. "Don't cull a fellow out 
 of his name !" 
 
272 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Beg pardon !" said the captain. " Take my arm, sir." 
 
 " And here's your passage-money !" continued Mr. Trelawney, 
 presenting a twenty-pound note. " Give me the change when you 
 stop this pitching. By Jove ! but that was a jolly good pitch ! 
 AVhere the devil is the bedstead ?" 
 
 " Step down, sir," said the captain, taking the note. " Notice, 
 mate. He has given me twenty pounds. Get him into his berth. 
 He'll be better to-morrow." 
 
 Mr. Brentam was interrupted at his breakfast the next morning 
 by a remark from a gentleman at the adjoining table. 
 
 " Storm last night ; did you hear the house rattle ? Vessel cast 
 away on Linton Sands." 
 
 " What sort o' vessel ?" said his companion, chipping the end of 
 his egg. 
 
 " Yacht." 
 
 "Any lives lost?" 
 
 " All lost, they say. Found three or four bodies. She must have 
 struck near the light-house." 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen," said Mr. Brentam, " may I ask Avhat 
 vessel you speak of?" 
 
 " Don't know, sir," replied the first speaker ; " old Jones came in 
 at daylight. His son keeps the light-house. He has brought some 
 of the stuff that washed ashore." 
 
 " Where does he live? Where can I see him?" asked Mr. Bren- 
 tam. " My nephew went out in his yacht last night, and I am in 
 terrible suspense. Can you direct me to this man ?" 
 
 " Nothing easier, sir. Tom, show this gentleman the way to the pier. 
 Jones lives near the landing, sir. Any one can point out his house." 
 
 The waiter accompanied Mr. Brentam to the door, and pointed 
 out the direction. " Keep down this street, sir," he said, " until you 
 reach the pier. Then turn to the rigiit, and you will see the steam- 
 boat dock. Jones lives within a stone's-throw." 
 
 Mr. Brentam found the house without difficulty. There was a 
 little crowd about the door, and the men moved aside to give him 
 ingress, and then pressed in after him. Something in his face told 
 them he was interested in the fate of the wrecked vessel, and with 
 that eager appetite for horrors that belongs to rude humanity, they 
 watched for the effect of the story upon him. Jones was relating 
 for the twentieth time his experiences of the past night. 
 
 "She was standing no'thwest and by no'th," said the narrator; 
 " too close to the light. I saw her make one tack, but she luffed up 
 
THE PICTURE. 273 
 
 too soon. Wind blowing lialf a gale, and more leeway, becanse the 
 tide was three-quarters flood. She struck in the worst place she 
 could pick out, on the spit of sand off the light-house. I knew it 
 was all up with her then ! You see there are two sets of breakers, 
 j)art rock and jiart sand, deep water on both sides, and her masts 
 went at the first knock. The moon was up, and I could see her 
 chopping herself up, but could not get out to her. Nothing could 
 live in that bit of water if the sea had been calm !" 
 
 " What was her name ?" said Mr. Brentam, pressing nearer. 
 Jones looked up at him, enquiringly, and handed his slate. 
 
 " Name of vessel ?" wrote Mr. Brentam. 
 
 "Name?" replied Jones. "Couldn't see any name. No name 
 on the bits of drift that came ashore. But she looked to me like a 
 craft that was anchored off yonder two or three days ago. Masts 
 too tall and raked too much. Bad rig to claw off a lee shore. I 
 can't say for certain, but it's my belief she was the 'Juliet.'" 
 
 " Did nothing come ashore that could be identified ?" wrote Mr. 
 Brentam. 
 
 "Not much," replied Jones. "A bit of rack with brass hooks 
 washed up, and a coat hanging to one of the hooks. Here it is." 
 
 It was a light overcoat made of dark -gray cloth. Mr. Brentam 
 examined it minutely and sank into a chair, pushed forward by a 
 sympathising listener. 
 
 " This is my nephew's coat," said Mr. Brentam, in a husky voice. 
 " See, here is his handkerchief, with his initials, ' F. D.' And here 
 is a paper, let us dry it and see. It is a picture. Stop ! Don't 
 handle it too roughly ; it will unfold when dry. Could not a 
 good swimmer get ashore? Write it on his slate please, one of 
 
 you." 
 
 "Swim ashore !" said Jones, after reading the question. "Not 
 possible ! A duck would be killed a thousand times between that 
 spit and the light-house. No man that was on that yacht when she 
 struck was alive ten minutes afterwards! Look at the coat!" and 
 he held up the wet garment and shook out the clinging folds; "it 
 is full of holes and snags, caught as it bounced over the sharp rocks. 
 Remember, the sea was pounding it upon the rocks with rollers ten 
 foot thick ! I thought the Atlantic was coming in to drown out the 
 light ! The sea washed clean over the top of the tower twice. I 
 saw three or four bodies in the smugglers' channel as I came through 
 this morning, but they were all out of reach. Can get at 'em at 
 half ebb, maybe." 
 
 18 
 
274 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 ]\Ir. Brentam went back to the hotel, and telegraphed as follows : 
 
 "From Brentam, Milford, to Hyland Rayneford, St. Vincent's 
 Hotel, Clifton, Bristol. Come to me immediately. I am in great 
 distress, fearing Frank was wrecked last night on Linton Sands." 
 
 During the long hours that must pass before Hyland could reach 
 ISIilford Mr. Brentam went from the hotel to the pier several times, 
 and at last prevailed upon Mr. Jones to brave the rough sea and 
 look for the bodies of the drowned men. They chartered a tug, as 
 the " Ripple" could not tack in the narrow lane of water, and Jones 
 undertook to steer through the tortuous smugglers' channel. It was 
 in the afternoon when they returned to Milford, with two bodies — 
 all that were left, and both of them identified by a dozen sailors as 
 part of the crew of the " Juliet." Mr. Daltman had hired them a 
 week before, at Milford. The sea refused to give up any more. 
 
 Hyland was at the pier when they landed, and met ^Ir. Brentam, 
 learning from his countenance that he had abandoned hope. They 
 walked silently to the hotel and went up to Mr. Brentam's room. 
 The tattered coat was hanging on a hook, and the picture, nearly dry, 
 was on the bureau. 
 
 " Poor Frank!" said his uncle. "By-the-bye, he wrote you just 
 before we parted. Here is the note. Don't mind me ! I'll take 
 off my coat and lie down awhile. Sit there at the window, and we 
 will order some dinner presently. That is Frank's coat. It was 
 washed ashore with a fragment of the wreck. When can we go to 
 Clifton ?" 
 
 " The steamboat will go in an hour," answered Hylaud. 
 
 " Well, I only want fifteen minutes. Read your note, and see 
 what the poor boy says. I cannot resist this drowsy fit !" And, 
 overcome by fatigue, he was asleep before Hyland mastered the con- 
 tents of the missive. He read it eagerly first, his heart bounding 
 with delicious joy, then read it slowly and carefully twice more. The 
 fifteen minutes sped away while he sat and pondered, and Mr. 
 Brentam awoke, and resumed his coat. 
 
 " We may as well go down," he said ; " I will take the coat with 
 me. Nothing in the pockets except his handkerchief. Ah, yes ! 
 That paper. Unfold it carofidly. Don't tear it." 
 
 Hyland handled the paper with great delicacy. It was a picture, 
 and he seemed to recognise it, as he parted the folds. As he spread 
 it out on the bureau, he thought he could feel his pulsations slacken, 
 then stop altogether. The Observatory, a woman's figure in the 
 foreground, with the face upturned. The paper was wrinkled and the 
 
MR. DANCER. 275 
 
 ]iietiire hopelessly marred, but it was undoubtedly the same that the 
 enterprisint;!; Mr. Dancer had stolon from his lodginij^s. 
 
 ^Ir. ]5rentam peered over his shoulder, as he j^azed silently at the 
 central figure in the photograph. 
 
 "Good heavens !" said Mr. Brentam, "can this be possible? It 
 is the Clifton Picture !" 
 
 CHAPTER XLYI. 
 Mr. Dancer. 
 
 OX the deck of the " Prince of "Wales" the two gentlemen con- 
 tinued their conversation. Hyland had restored the dam- 
 aged picture as much as possible, and, protected by cardboard, it now 
 reposed beside its duplicate in his breast-pocket. Mr. Brentam Mas 
 disposed to be communicative, feeling specially attracted to Hyland 
 because of his intimacy with his lost nephew. 
 
 " I cannot conceive how Frank obtained that picture," he said. 
 " It was taken when he was a mere infant, and I saw it by — by 
 accident in the hands of the husband of the lady. They were not 
 married then, but very shortly afterwards." 
 
 " By this light !" said Hyland, abruptly, " I begin to see through 
 this mystery ! Whose picture — who is the lady ?" 
 
 " She was Miss Mordaunt," replied Mr. Brentam, "the sister of 
 Colonel Mordaunt. She married Windham Dale of Dale's Manor." 
 
 Hyland took a parcel from his pocket, carefully enveloped in 
 tissue-paper, which he removed. He handed the enclosure to his 
 companion without speaking. 
 
 " Ah, yes !" said Mr. Brentam. " That is she ! Annot Mordaunt. 
 Frank's picture is so much soiled that you would scarcely recognise 
 the identity. But I knew it at once." 
 
 "This is Annot Mordaunt. Then Annot Dale?" said Hyland, 
 looking curiously at the worn face of Mr. Brentam. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " But the other is not Annot Mordaunt ! It is Haidee Mordaunt, 
 the daughter of the colonel." 
 
 "Impossible!" said Mr. Brentam. "Colonel Mordaunt has no 
 daughter ! Never repeat what I tell you. I know he is childless. 
 The two girls are both adopted." 
 
 "You know Miles is married?" said Hyland. 
 
276 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Yes. He wrote me from Queenstown, saying lie had brought 
 a Lady Rayneford from America. An English girl, I think lie 
 said." 
 
 " Her name was Annot Mordaunt Dale," said Hyland. " Her 
 father, "Windham Dale, is with her. And Miles has the duplicate of 
 that picture. I have compared them. And she and her lather are 
 at Castledane to-day. This other picture I took with these hands, 
 less than ten days ago. It is Haidee Mordaunt, I put that picture 
 
 in her hands three or four days ago. How Frank got it Ah ! 
 
 that is the question ! And who can answer it ?" 
 
 " Poor Frank !" said Mr. Brentam. " You were his friend, and 
 I may tell you. His heart was set on getting Castledane, and I 
 think he cherished a sincere admiration for this young lady. But 
 she could not inherit Castledane ! I will tell you another secret. 
 Lady Rayneford is the only woman alive who can inherit that es- 
 tate. The entail is one of the most curious pieces of legal twisting 
 I ever encountered. But it ends with the present generation. Mor- 
 daunt owns it now. But Mordaunt cannot sell a foot of it. I feel 
 impelled to tell you another secret. Some day you may reveal it to 
 Miles. Windham Dale did me a cruel injustice, ignorantly, I be- 
 lieve, but most cruel ! I have felt resentful for twenty-five years, 
 but my anger is dead now. I held all the deed he could give to his 
 estate — Dale's Manor. But it was swallowed up in mortgages, and 
 I laboriously strove to clear away the encumbrances from the date 
 of — well, from the day that pictiire was taken until the day he sailed 
 for America, leaving an insulting message for me. I am not in the 
 habit of parading my motives — you know this. But my sole motive 
 was to perfect his title for — his wife's sake. The foolish man 
 thought I coveted his inheritance. And he was fiery and rash, and 
 Annot was misled by him, and I was too proud to make explana- 
 tions. Dane Mordaunt knew, but he died in India. I had sworn 
 him to secrecy before I revealed my plans. I had to take possession 
 of Dale's Manor because the claimants, a crew of cormorants, would 
 never come to equitable terms with Dale, a man born to be cheated. 
 It was quite another thing to deal with the owner of Brentam Mills. 
 Remember all this, and do me justice, Hyland, when opportunity 
 serves. Here is the landing. We take the train here." 
 
 " Let us go to Castledane, Mr. Brentam," said Hyland, gently. 
 He was deeply moved by the evident distress of his companion, who 
 appeared ten years older since he parted from him in London, only 
 a week or two past. 
 
MR. DANCER. 277 
 
 "Not now," replietl Mr. Breiitaiu. " I am going to Somerset to- 
 night. jNIakc my excuses to Miles, and tell him to wait at Castle- 
 dane for mc. And ask Plimpton to follow me to Brentam Villa. I 
 am not equal to any business just now." 
 
 liyland waited upon jNIr. Brentam with assiduous attention until 
 his train departed. Returning to the hotel at Clifton, lie found Zeba 
 ■waiting for him, with his photographer's wagon and Tommy. The 
 latter was lazily switehing the flics from his flanks, and endeavour- 
 ing to extract some meaning from Zeba's prolonged discourse, still in 
 his memory. The Hindoo had talked and sung to him all the way 
 from Castledane, and had thoughtlessly confined himself to Hin- 
 doostanee. Hyland had left Mr. Brentiim's despatch for the colonel 
 when he took the train for Milford, and Zeba brought him a reply 
 from Castledane, bidding him bring Mr. Brentam with him, if 
 the latter accompanied him to Clifton. 
 
 Going back, sometimes by the highway and sometimes through 
 verdant lanes. Tommy selecting the route, Hyland meditated upon 
 the rapidly nioving events of the past two weeks. That picture in 
 Frank's pocket ! This was the knotty point, coming back constantly 
 and demanding solution. Did she give Frank the picture? Why 
 not? Frank had rescued her from Linton Sands, and had been in 
 her society ever since. He had been with her on the long voyage 
 from Calcutta. He was a handsome fellow, very brilliant in con- 
 versation, and, above all, in the army, though only a subaltern. A 
 man with these advantages and owner of a good estate was entirely 
 eligible anywhere. How could he be in daily intercourse with that 
 lovely girl and fail to love her ? Alas ! poor Frank did not know 
 what love meant. But Haidee would readily give credence to his 
 professions, and might easily love Frank ! " Poor Frank !" 
 
 He uttered the last words aloud, and Zeba, who had waited with 
 heroic patience for a word from him, answered : 
 
 "Colonel Sahib say Daltman Sahib drown?" 
 
 " I fear he was drowned, Zeba," replied Hyland ; " indeed, it is 
 nearly certain. His yacht was wrecked, and he was aboard." 
 
 " Not drown !" said Zeba, coolly. 
 
 '* The vessel went to pieces," answered Hyland, looking with 
 surprise in the stolid face of the Hindoo; "and several bodies were 
 found." 
 
 " Daltman Sahib not found ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Daltman Sahib not drown," repeated Zeba. 
 
278 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "What do you mean, Zeba?" said Hyland, turning in his seat 
 and facing him. 
 
 "Water not drown Daltman Sahib," answered Zeba, senten- 
 tiously. " If Lord Hyland put him in water, then drown." 
 
 "I put him in water? I drown my friend?" 
 
 " Not friend ! Enemy ! Sahib Hyland Lord of tulwar. Tul- 
 war say Daltman not drown. Life belong to Lord Hyland. If he 
 say. Live, Daltman not drown !" 
 
 "This is most extraordinary!" muttered Hyland. "Am I never 
 to get rid of that tulwar ? Has it told you anything else ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered the Hindoo, with undisturbed gravity. " Tulwar 
 say sahib lord of Beebe. Sahib want Beebe? Take her!" 
 
 "By this light!" said Hyland, the blood rushing to his cheek 
 and brow, "this is perilous talk, Zeba. Have you said this to — - 
 any one else?" 
 
 " Zeba have no tongue. Sahib call Zeba friend. Friend talk to 
 friend only." 
 
 As they rolled along over the smooth road. Tommy putting forth 
 his best efforts, Hyland glanced occasionally at the placid face of his 
 companion. He was eager to ask a dozen questions, but, with the 
 rare delicacy of the thorough gentleman, he shrank from the mention 
 of Haidee's name, since Zeba had so openly coupled it with his own. 
 And Zeba waited with the patience of the true philosopher, knowing 
 that Hyland would renew the conversation, if he gave him time 
 enough. 
 
 " The tulwar !" said Hyland, at last. " How does the tulwar tell 
 you — these things ? Do you ask ?" 
 
 " Ask, but not with tongue. Ask Avith soul," said Zeba in reply. 
 " Tulwar not know language. Not know Pracrit. But know what 
 mind say. When mind ask, where Lord Hyland this morning? 
 tulwar say, Milford. When mind ask, where Daltman ? tulwar say, 
 out on sea. Mind know Daltman want fight — want fight Lord Hy- 
 land. INIind think Lord Hyland fight now when Daltman ask him. 
 Mind know Daltman steal Beebe away. Mind say Lord Hyland 
 kill enemy. Ask tulwar. Tulwar say, no fight, no kill!" 
 
 Hyland rode silently on, cogitating the metaphysical problem. 
 The acute perceptions of the Hindoo had revealed so many truths 
 to him that it was difficult to think of him as the victim of a super- 
 stition so baseless as his faith in the tulwar. It never occurred 
 to Hyland to suspect Zeba's sincerity. And, in fact, sincerity 
 always commands credence. You may doubt the accuracy of 
 
MR. DANCER. 279 
 
 statement Avhen you have unswerving faith in the truthfuhiess of 
 the si)eaker. 
 
 " There are only two entities— matter and force," thought Hyland. 
 "The phenomena of matter are various, but generally scrutable. 
 Force is too vague a term. It may mean the attraction of gravita- 
 tion. But that may also be a property of matter. It may mean the 
 overbearing power of affection. There is such a thing as mental 
 force. The mind moves the muscles, but the muscles wield the 
 tulwar. Can the mind reach the tulwar without the intermediate 
 agency ?" 
 
 " When we sail from Calcutta," observed Zeba, as if replying to 
 his thoughts, " the ship go far from land. Cloud hide sun. Cloud 
 hide stars. But ship know how to sail, because little steel tulwar 
 point north. Docs captain make tulwar always say north ?" 
 
 " You might as well ask if the miller makes the water run down 
 hill," said Hyland. " Who is this ?" 
 
 " Red-eye man," answered Zeba. 
 
 They were within sight of Castledane, and Tommy, who approved 
 of the stable appliances there, was surpassing himself; neverthele-ss 
 he stopped when Mr. Dancer stood in the road with his hand up. 
 
 " Good evening !" said the detective, with an awkward effort to 
 appear at ease. " I thought I might meet you here, Mr. Rayneford, 
 and I waited." 
 
 " Ah !" said Hyland. " I cannot go with you this time. If you 
 have a warrant, produce it, and my friend here will cut off the hand 
 that presents it." 
 
 " Pooh !" said Mr. Dancer, as Zeba showed eight or ten inches of 
 steel ; " put up your chopper ! I have no warrant. And if I had 
 I would serve it all the same, if you had six swords.? There was 
 so much genuine pluck in Mr. Dancer's attitude that both Hyland 
 and Zeba were impressed. 
 
 " I am willing to own that I made a bad mess of that business," 
 said Mr. Dancer. " But I had three strings in hand at once. I 
 wanted somebody that stole some money. I wanted somebody that 
 stole Lord Rayneford, and I wanted somebody that carried off the 
 lady. I thought you might do for one of the three. But I should 
 not think so now. Cawn't you make some allowance for a fellow who 
 was trying to do his duty?" 
 
 " Certainly !" answered Hyland, promptly. " There's my hand ! 
 I bear no malice. Will you climb up here and ride ? There is room 
 enough." 
 
280 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Thank you," said Mr. Dancer. " I am going tlie otlier way. 
 But if you will get down and walk with me a little way, I'll be 
 obliged." 
 
 Hyland threw his leg over the side, stepped upon the wheel, and 
 joined the detective on terra fiiirna. 
 
 "Go on, Tommy !" he said ; " we will follow you. Wait for me 
 at the head of the lane, Zeba." 
 
 "I thought I would just tell you, Mr. Rayneford," said Mr. 
 Dancer, snapping his eyes viciously. " You might have played the 
 devil with me about that Clifton thing. But you didn't ! Mr. 
 Plimpton is cross as a bear ! And I am dead beat anyhow. You 
 swells are a hard lot ! May I tell you something in confidence?" 
 
 " Yes, if you so desire," answered Hyland ; " but I think I 
 prefer " 
 
 "Won't mention names, sir. I thought you had carried off 
 the lady. Now I know you didn't. And I know who did. But 
 he was smart enough to make proof very difficult. I could have 
 got a full confession from Tom Jones, but some cove has been ahead 
 of me, and pumped him dry and then greased him." 
 
 " Greased him ?" said Hyland. 
 - " Yes. Bribed, or hired, or whatever you please. Any M'ay, I 
 know who did the carrying off, and I suspect somebody else, who 
 has been covering up the tracks. I won't name any names, sir. 
 
 "But I've got a bit of news, maybe. And if you say so, I'll tell 
 you and nobody else. It's not against law, for law cawn't reach this 
 case, without extradition papers. And I judge it's a matter for 
 pistols and ten paces, rather than law, any way. The man who 
 stole the lady went down channel last night. I wanted to see where 
 he went, so I turned into a tug-hand. Tug carried an American 
 brig down the channel in the same tow. When I cast off from the 
 brig, I saw a man come out of the cabin of the other vessel, and I 
 watched him. Before the brig got clear of the little schooner that 
 man got aboard the brig. I saw him squat down, while the yacht — 
 I mean the schooner — slipped away. The schooner was wrecked ; 
 all hands lost. The brig is south of Ireland now, on the Atlantic, 
 and the lady-stealer is aboard. That's all." 
 
 Hyland listened with profound interest. The red eyes snapped 
 once or twice, and then fell into repose. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Rayneford, if this news is interesting to you, you're 
 welcome. And we can say quits about that Clifton fizzle. Never 
 did such a Tomfool of a trick since I've been in the force ! If 
 
HYLAND'S PERPLEXITIES. 281 
 
 you say the word, I'm mum about this business till you tell me to 
 speak.'' 
 
 " My friend, " said Ilyland, " your discretion charms me. Oblige 
 me bv investing this trifle" — and he slipped a twenty-pound note 
 into Mr. Dancer's hand — " in any souvenir you may fancy. And 
 when we meet again, I'll — take your photograph ! Good day !" 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 Hyland's Perplexities. 
 
 MRS. IIICKS, the housekeeper at Hawkley, had written Lord 
 Rayneford begging him to defer his return a few days, as 
 the " house was upside down." The carpets would be down within 
 a week, and she particularly desired " my lady," to whom she sent 
 her declaration of allegiance, should receive a pleasant impression 
 of Hawkley upon her arrival. There was a postscrii)t, in which she 
 entreated my lord to prevent the return of Master Hyland to India. 
 The letter was delivered to Annot, of course; and Annot — also of 
 course — sought Hyland immediately, and invited his attention to the 
 missive. 
 
 He was alone in the library, and Lady Rayneford had a clear 
 field. 
 
 " Welcome, sister !" he said, rising and placing her in the luxurious 
 arm-chair he vacated. " Just try this abominable chair ! It is a snare 
 of the enemy to put such luxuries in a fellow's way." 
 
 " It is quite an innocent luxury," answered Annot. " Bring the 
 other chair ; I want some conversation with you. It is a far greater 
 luxury, Hyland, to call you brother ! I have longed for a brother 
 all my life!" 
 
 There was undoubted pathos in her tone, and Hyland was touched 
 by it. 
 
 " My lord longed for you also," she continued. " All the days we 
 were at sea he talked of you, and concocted plans to get you home. 
 How fortunate we are to have you, without the delay of the long 
 voyage ! Promise to stay, Hyland. Nothing else will quiet my 
 jealousy ! I do not object to the eagerness with which Miles seeks 
 your society so long as I also am within reach." 
 
 " Old Miles sent you ?" said Hyland, half interrogatively. 
 
282 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " No. We have talked about your return to India, certainly, but 
 there is no conspiracy between us. He says you are talking about 
 the date of your return, and he is greatly troubled." 
 
 " Those cinchona plantations I" replied Hyland. " I am enthusi- 
 astic about them. Just think of England making her own quinia ! 
 And the surveys there are very important. I wrote a paper upon 
 the Himalayan flora while I was at sea, and I got ten pounds for it 
 yesterday. It will be printed next week in the 'Journal of Arbori- 
 culture.' You must read it." 
 
 " If the cinchona plantations were in England " 
 
 " Would not grow here !" promptly answered Hyland. " You 
 must have suitable climate and soil, and also a special altitude." 
 
 " But, if these trees could be cultivated here," persisted Annot, 
 " are there other attractions in India for you ?" 
 
 Hyland sat in silence, meditating, stealing furtive glances at her 
 honest face. 
 
 " You wish me to stay," he said, at last, " because Miles wants me. 
 Oh, yes ! I know what you would say. You were kind enough 
 to think you would keep me for my own sake. And I don't know 
 how a fellow would feel towards a real sister, but I don't believe 
 I could love a twin sister more than I love you." And he took her 
 hand in his. " And now to show you how sincere my affection is — 
 I am going to tell you the whole truth. I could easily relinquish 
 India. Indeed, the object for which I went out there is already 
 attained. I only wanted enough money to pay Hawkley's debts ! 
 Don't you dare tell this ! But that was my solitary object. And 
 now Miles has gone and done it for himself! He has made more 
 money by one adventure than I could make in ten years. But I 
 want India now because I have a — an ailment, which won't get well 
 if I stay here. Don't open your eyes in that fashion ! It is a mental 
 ailment. I have been reading Kant for two days, and it all seems 
 like rubbish to me ! I spent one day over Descartes. It appears 
 to be worse rubbish than Kant's philosophy ! Xow you know a 
 fellow could not get into that sort of a mess unless there were some 
 serious defect in his mental organism !" 
 
 " I am sure I don't know !" replied Annot. " I don't know any- 
 thing about Kant or Descartes. Has any other philosophy attracted 
 you and crowded them out ?" 
 
 " No !" answered Hyland, with profound disgust. '^ That is just 
 the trouble ! If I had any new theories I should not be disturbed. 
 But I have looked at this thing objectively, and find nothing about 
 
HYLANUS PERPLEXITIES. 283 
 
 it. I try to examine it subjectively, and my mind goes off from the 
 emotional to tiie objective in spite of my best eiforts!" 
 
 '' If you would only talk English," said Annot, "I might under- 
 stand you. If what you have just said comes out of Kant or 
 Descartes, I think you exhibit true sanity when you call it — 
 rubbish !" 
 
 " By this light !" said Hyland, stunned. 
 
 " If you mean to say there is a side of your mental organism that 
 demands other food than ]nire philosophy — that is sense !" 
 
 "Sister," said Hyland, humbly, "you are a stunner!"' 
 
 " Please tell me what ails you. Perhaps I can aid you. Perhaps 
 I know some things you have never learned." 
 
 " Well, then," said Hyland, drawing his chair nearer, "I will 
 unbosom myself. I am bewildered whenever I see Zeba, whose one 
 eye has a glare of fiendish triumph in it whenever I catch his glance. 
 He has done some tricks of legerdemain which defy scrutiny. I am 
 obliged to confess myself floored. Then, a crazy fellow whom I met 
 near this spot a few weeks ago announced a sort of prophecy about 
 the consequence^ of taking a certain picture. I took that picture, 
 and — the prophecy clings to me like the shirt of Nessus ! I firmly 
 resolved to burn the picture two nights in succession — last night 
 and the previous night. But I cannot burn it ! And that Mephis- 
 topheles of a Hindoo has announced a totally distinct prophecy, 
 which has precisely the same termination. I hnow both prophecies 
 are false ; but, by this light ! they have taken my soul captive. 
 The only escape for me is India ! There, if I get there — if I can 
 tear myself away from you and Miles and — these luxurious chairs 
 — there I should be a man again !" 
 
 " Where is the picture?" said Annot. "Can I see it?" 
 
 " Heh !" said Hyland, aghast. 
 
 " The picture !" said Annot, quietly. " Let me see it, brother." 
 
 " That last word does it !" muttered Hyland, fumbling in his 
 breast-pocket and draw'ing forth the j)icture. The sunlight coming 
 in through crimson curtains cast quite a glow upon his face as he 
 handed the picture. Annot studied it carefully with undisturbed 
 composure. 
 
 " It is very beautiful," she said, at length, " very like, and very 
 innocent. I will keep it, Hyland, and break one of the charms. 
 Or, if you will sell it, I will give you your price for it. Perhaps, 
 if you reduce the affair to a money transaction, it will be still more 
 eftective." She laid the picture on the arm of her chair and drew 
 
284 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 out her purse. Hyland snatched up the photograph and replaced it 
 in his pocket. 
 
 " What I tell you now, sister," he said, in husky accents, " comes 
 from the core of ray heart! I could love this maiden — oh, how 
 easily ! — if I dared. But I dare not, and I must get some thousands 
 of miles of sea between her and me. First, I thought she owned 
 this lovely paradise, and then I found she was not the colonel's real 
 daughter, and thought I might venture to offer myself and my little 
 fortune. Then I found the duplicate of this picture (which I gave 
 her) in another fellow's possession. Then the colonel told me — 
 only to-day — that Glendare — my friend Glendare — had hinted his 
 desire to enter the lists — to court Haidee !" 
 
 " And have you asked Haidee, or the colonel, or Mr. Glendare, or 
 the other fellow who had the picture ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! Do you think I am mad ? Hush ! There is 
 old Miles at the door !" 
 
 Anuot turned her head and beckoned Lord Rayneford into the 
 room. She took his arm to fulfil an engagement made at breakfast, 
 to walk to the ruin. As she passed Hyland she leayed forward and 
 kissed his burning forehead. 
 
 '^Oh, you great, overgrown ninny !" she whispered. " Come on, 
 my lord. Good morning, brother!" 
 
 " Miles is in no end of a mess !" said Hyland, as the couple sailed 
 out on the lawn. " He has gone and married a regular she-hyena. 
 Poor old Miles ! But somehow the little dev — duck, I mean, has 
 comforted me. What iho. deuce did she call me a ninny for? Who 
 is this?" 
 
 Zeba, in white turbau and scarlet jacket, marching up from the 
 stables, chanting his favourite ode, and tapping the hilt of the tulwar 
 to emphasize each stanza. Hyland goes out on the lawn to meet 
 him. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" 
 
 " Ram, ram !" answered Hyland. " Where is Daltman ?" 
 
 Zeba bowed, and waved his hand in the direction of a giant oak 
 that stands upon the wide lawn. Hyland walked down under its 
 shadoAV, and the Hindoo followed. Beneath the spreading branches 
 Zeba whirled his sword from the scabbard, cutting right, left, up- 
 ward and downward, and then threw the weapon up, caught it in 
 descent, produced a cord from his pocket, and suspended the sword 
 from an overhanging bough. 
 
 "Sahib turn tulwar," said he, with another genuflexion; "sahib 
 
EYLANHS PERPLEXITIES. 285 
 
 think Hindoo play trick. Turn tulwar as sun turn, and ask for 
 Daltman. Not with voice. But ask with mind." 
 
 Hyland twisted the weapon from east to west, and as it swung 
 around, Zeba squatted down near the trunk, resuminj^ iiis chant. 
 Ilyland stood by and waited. AVhen the revolutions ceased the 
 Hindoo produced his compass and chart, and spread the latter out 
 upon the grass, beneath the motionless blade. liyland examined 
 the chart, which was accurately adjusted in accordance with the 
 points of the compass. 
 
 " Now supposing all this to be real," muttered Hyland, as he 
 sighted along the blade, "the ship might be at latitude 40, long- 
 itude 20 west. And that is about the locality that was in my 
 mind." 
 
 He walked back to the library, and wrote the following note : 
 
 " My dear Mr. Brextam, — I have reason to think your nephew 
 was not on board the yacht at the time of the wreck. We cannot 
 ol)tain certain information for three or four weeks, but while I do 
 not assert positively that he is alive and well, T have no doubt of 
 the fact myself, and I write this to relieve your mind and to awaken 
 your hope. I am not at liberty to say more, but beg you to trust 
 me, and wait a few weeks for more positive information. 
 
 " Very truly yours, Hyland Rayneford." 
 
 " There !" said Hyland, as he sealed the note, and dropped it in 
 the mail-bag. " This is based upon ]\Ir. Dancer's revelations, of 
 course. Also, upon my knowledge of Frank's character. As for 
 that mummery out under the oak — it was devilish curious, to say 
 the least! AVhat did Annot mean by calling me such opprobrious 
 names? Does she think I should demand categorical explanations 
 from everybody ? Why did she offer to buy my picture ? Tiiere 
 goes Glendare ! I'll collar him, by the light !" And he darted out 
 after the ex-missionary. 
 
 " My dear Hyland," said Mr. Glendare, " I have been seeking 
 you. Let us walk to the brook. I have something to tell you." 
 And he hooked his arm in Rayncford's. 
 
 " Now it is coming !" thought Hyland. 
 
 "Hyland," said Mr. Glendare, "'l think I shall marry." 
 
 " Wish you joy, llamish," answered his friend. 
 
 "But I wish you to follow my example. Give up India and 
 take a wife." 
 
286 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Well," answered Hyland, "let me see how it agrees with you 
 first. Have you — settled the preliminaries?'^ 
 
 " I decided six years ago," said Mr. Glendare, " but I have been 
 obliged to wait. Now I am a landed proprietor, and am ready to 
 marry. I am building a chapel at Glendare, and shall be Rector 
 as well as Laird. And I look forward to a life of unmixed happi- 
 ness and increasing usefulness." 
 
 " And the lady — whoever she may be ? Did she suggest all these 
 plans? It seems to me that I heard you discourse eloquently once 
 about the predestined partner, the one woman in all the world, and 
 so forth. Do you still hold the theory then advanced ?" 
 
 "Certainly," replied Mr. Glendare, promptly. '* There is but 
 one woman in the world that can attract me. If I cannot win her, 
 I shall not try to win another." 
 
 " Win ?" said Hyland. " Are you not secure ? Have you been 
 six years courting without any token of success ? What the — deuce 
 do you mean ?" 
 
 "I am not exactly certain," replied the Scot, "except upon gen- 
 eral grounds. I know there is no doubt about my choice being 
 made, or about its finality. And I believe when an honest man 
 reaches this conclusion he assumes a sort of proprietorship over the 
 woman he loves. But she has had a passing fancy for another — 
 and she is just now distressed about Frank, and I cannot be very 
 urgent on these accounts. She was fond of Frank." 
 
 "And he was the other fellow?" suggested Hyland. 
 
 " No — that is — I think not. I thought it might be Mr. Hyland 
 Eayneford." 
 
 " Hamish," said Hyland, reddening, " where did you get that 
 insane idea?" 
 
 " I took occasion to tell her that your affections — if you had any 
 — were elsewhere placed " 
 
 " The devil you did ! Excuse me, and proceed." 
 
 " Oh, I did not violate any confidence. She and I were vying 
 with each other in sounding your praises. I told her some things 
 in your favour which she did not know, and she told me many that 
 I did know. Her chief theme was your unvarying, unselfish kind- 
 ness. And we agreed that she would be a happy woman who won 
 your love. And at this point I merely suggested that you were, 
 perhaps, nay — probably — about to " 
 
 " Would you mind," said Hyland, white with rage, " would you 
 be so kind as to arrange the matter for me ? You know so well all 
 
TO BRENTAM MILLS. 287 
 
 ray attachments, preferences, and virtues, that yon can manage far 
 better than I could." 
 
 Mr. Glendare was near-sighted, and did not discover liis friend's 
 heat. 
 
 '* Arrange for you !" he answered, drawing away his arm indig- 
 nantly. " Certainly not ! If I did not think you were joking, I be- 
 lieve I'd knock you down ! You great long-legged ninny ! Have 
 you not enough pluck to state your own case? However, I am 
 glad you said it. I'll toll :Mildred to-morrow. Every word, you 
 vagabond !" 
 
 " Mildred ?" said Hyland, confused. 
 
 '' Yes, Mildred ! Ah, here comes Haidee and the colonel ! Take 
 Haidee of!^ there's a good fellow ! I must have a private talk with 
 the colonel." 
 
 CHAPTER XLYIII. 
 To Brentam Mills. 
 
 " 1Vr^^^^^^ CAREY, Brentam Mills, to Hamish Glendare, 
 -^^ George Hotel, Bath. Uncle is very ill. He has asked 
 for you and the Raynefords repeatedly. Please come immediately. 
 The carriage will be at station two twenty." 
 
 This document, presented to Mr. Glendare by a telegraph messen- 
 ger, interrupted the party at the moment of the colonel's arrival 
 with Haidee. 
 
 "The Raynefords?" said Hyland, when he read the despatch. 
 " That means Miles and me, certainly. Eleven o'clock. I will find 
 Miles. Get ready, Hamish." And he started at a brisk pace for 
 the ruin. 
 
 " Better take Annot, too," he thought, as he approached the old 
 castle. " It is highly probable that he will ask for her. Besides, 
 Miles will not willingly leave her. Wonder if we might take Dr. 
 Leigh ? Ho, Miles ! Where are you ?" 
 
 " Here !" answered Lord Rayneford, emerging from the great hall, 
 his wife on his arm. " What is up, Hyland ?" 
 
 " A desjxitch from Miss Carey, saying Mr. Brentam is seriously 
 ill, and calls for Glendare and us." And he handed the messao-e to 
 Miles. 
 
 " The Raynefords ?" said Annot. " That includes me." 
 
288 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 "Undoubtedly," answered Miles. "Two twenty. That is at 
 Taunton. She will send the carriage. We must leave Bath at 
 noon." 
 
 "And sister Annot will require three hours- 
 
 " I do not require three minutes, sir !" answered Lady Rayneford, 
 indignantly. 
 
 " Take my arm also, sister dear," said Hyland, " and be pacified. 
 My first thought when I read this message was, 'Annot shall go 
 also.' So you will see dear old Hawkley ' upside down' after all. 
 Poor old Miles !" 
 
 "What ails him?" said Annot. 
 
 " Married !" answered Hyland. " That answer covers everything. 
 No will of his own. No liberty. No remnants of affection for his 
 own kindred. A bond-slave ! He has to go plodding through the 
 damp grass just to wait on his wife. Look at his boots !" 
 
 " And tied to an obstinate, whimsical brother I" added Annot. 
 "He cannot cast him out of his affections if he would. But he 
 cannot make the least impression upon this brother by precept or — 
 example. Headstrong and wilful !" 
 
 " You called me a ninny !" said Hyland, reproachfully. 
 
 " I will apologise when you do better. And now excuse me three 
 minutes. My lord, do we return to Castledane?" 
 
 " Without doubt !" answered Haidee, suddenly appearing at the 
 •window. " How could you ask such a question, Annot ? You would 
 not be cruel enough to leave us in this abrupt manner? Lord 
 Rayneford, why don't you answer ?" 
 
 " Certainly !" said Miles, confusedly. " That is, Annot, Mr. Dale 
 will be here " 
 
 "And I am coming back, if the roads are not impassable," said 
 Hyland. 
 
 Zeba stalked majestically up as the carriage approached. 
 
 " Will sahib take Zeba ?" he said, addressing Hyland. 
 
 "No," replied Hyland, in defective Hindoostanee ; "abide and 
 guard those I love." And he remembered that Haidee understood 
 the " lingo" as he saw her face disappear from the window. He 
 did not see the warm hue that overspread her countenance, as the 
 wall of the mansion was about two feet thick, and she had with- 
 drawn below the window-sill. 
 
 " ' Ninny' was the correct word, by this light !" muttered Hyland, 
 as he entered the carriage. " What will she think of that speech ? 
 I should apologise, but what could I say ? I might tell her I did 
 
TO BRENTAM MILLS. 289 
 
 not mean her, but that would he uncomplimentary. Moreover, I 
 fear it would he a lie as well. I cannot get out of this uncomfort- 
 able mess any way, except by golnir to India. I vow, I wish my 
 leave had expireil ! Ami I lear that is mendacious also." 
 
 " What are you saying, brother?" asked Annot, politely. 
 
 "I? Oh, nothing. Do you see how beautiful that hedge is? I 
 am going to photograph this view when we return." 
 
 When they reached the station a shilling to the guard secured them 
 a compartment in which there were no other passengers, and they 
 were duly locked in. As he closed the door the guard whispered 
 Ilyland : 
 
 " If the lady don't object, you gents can smoke, if you like. No- 
 body will disturb you. Taunton, sir? Yes, sir. Two twenty." 
 
 " Smoke !" said Hyland. " Of course not ! It would be brutal ! 
 Sit here by the window, sister. Get over on the other side, you two. 
 I have something to say to Lady Rayneford which you should not 
 hear." 
 
 As the train glided along through the beautiful scenery of Somerset, 
 Annot was busy with questions. The name of each striking object 
 was recorded in her note-book, the local histories, all familiar to 
 Hyland, were stored away in her memory, and the first hour of the 
 journey slipped raj>idly away. 
 
 " By-t!ie-bye," said Annot, "you said you had some remarks to 
 make. I am all attention." 
 
 " But I meant ray remarks to be replies to yours," answered 
 Hyland, sheepishly. "You terminated our interview this morning 
 rather abruptly. Can you not resume your discourse where you 
 left off?" 
 
 "What did I say last?" 
 
 " Only that I was an overgrown ninny !" said Hyland, with an 
 injured air. 
 
 "Ah! Well, I will amend that," replied Annot. "I should 
 have said * milk-sop.' Have you talked with Mr. Glendare?" 
 
 " Yes. And he says he is going to marry. He has been medi- 
 tating the fatal step six years. And now he is ready. All smooth 
 
 and methodical. He has talked with the colonel, and with me 
 
 By this light ! Maybe it was confidential. I really never thought 
 of that !" 
 
 "Never mind, brother," said Annot, "you are a good boy now. 
 Do you think Mr. Glendare has proposed and been accei)ted ?" 
 
 " What a stunner you are !" answered Hyland. " No. I don't 
 
 19 
 
290 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 think he has been accepted. In fact, I think the lady has been 
 troubled with a — what do you call it? Oh, a prior attachment. 
 And Glendare thinks I am the favoured Adonis. I happen to know 
 it is another fellow ! In either case I am like the poor little Johnny 
 in the nursery song, id est, * out in the cold.' Don't you see how 
 clear the case is ?" 
 
 "Yes, I see," answered Annot, quietly. "Pray toll me, how 
 much do you love Haidee Mordaunt ?" 
 
 " How much ?" said Hyland, his face aflame. " I dare not say 
 I love her at all ! Do you suppose I am going to whine after a 
 woman who gave that Clifton picture to the other fellow " 
 
 " Gave WHAT !" 
 
 "The picture. The Clifton picture! I made it; did I not tell 
 you? I gave her a copy of that you saw this morning. There 
 were only two." 
 
 " The Clifton picture !" said Annot. " Brother, I am going 
 to tell you something in strict confidence. Before Miles — spoke 
 to me — over there in America — he found a picture in the hands 
 of another gentleman. The only name it ever had was the 
 Clifton picture. My lord, please lend me the Clifton picture a 
 moment." 
 
 Miles felt in the inner pocket of his waistcoat and drew forth a 
 locket, secured by a bit of ribbon to his button-hole. His M'ife took 
 it, touched a spring, and gave the locket to Hyland, who examined 
 the portrait Avith increasing astonishment. 
 
 " Miles thought it was mine. So did — the other gentleman. But 
 the latter took it secretly, and sent it back to me — from the grave ! 
 Sent it by your brother's hand ! And he — drcAV back from me — 
 just as you do now from Haidee, because he thought I had given 
 this locket to the other. It is my mother, you know." 
 
 " Do you know, Annot," said Hyland, at last, " that you are tell- 
 ing impossible things? If I were to describe such a coincidence as 
 this, and print the description, the whole civilised world would sneer 
 at the madness of such an imagination ! And to add to the vast 
 mountain of improbability — see ! here is the duplicate of your pic- 
 ture. I obtained this from the lunatic who uttered the prediction 
 of Avhich I told you. Oh, this is too absurd for discussion ! Tell 
 me the rest of the story." 
 
 *' There is not much more," answered Annot, blushing. " My 
 lord was very gentle and sympathising, and somehow — he discovered 
 that I was not disconsolate — even as you might discover — you poor, 
 
TO BRENT AM MILLS. 291 
 
 blind mole! — that Hiiidcc is not disconsolate, and then That 
 
 IS al 
 
 " Ninny, milksop, and mole !" ejaculated Ilyland. " Sni)i)ose you 
 were a man, and liad a preference — oV a growing attiichment — or 
 some humbug of that sort, do ycm thiidc you would be (pilte content 
 to have your beloved object giving her picture to another fellow?" 
 
 '' I think I should ascertain the facts before I did anything," 
 answereil Annot. 
 
 '* How can I ascertain the facts, sister?" said he, plaintively. 
 
 " Ask Haidee !" 
 
 " Ileh ! By this light ! you cut the Gordian knot with a ven- 
 geance ! Don't you see how promptly Haidee would recognise my 
 — ray liking for herself? Do you recommend me to go whining 
 after another fellow's woman? Not I ! • 
 
 "I have no patience with you!" said Annot, viciously. "Oh, if 
 a man were to come courting me in that half-hearted fashion, I think 
 I'd " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I'd set the dogs at him!" 
 
 " I shall ask Miles to tell me, circumstantially, how he courted," 
 said Hyland. " It is a grand thing to have the benefit of another 
 fellow's experience. It cost poor Miles enough, too. Ah ! when we 
 were boys it was said Miles was sedate, demure, proper, placable, 
 cautious, and good; while Hyland was impulsive, headlong, quar- 
 relsome, passionate, and utterly reckless. Now behold the contrast ! 
 That quiet-looking fellow over there in the corner just shut his eyes 
 and plunged headforemost into a sea of trouble. And I am ])ro- 
 ceeding with careful steps, not only to save myself from disappoint- 
 ment and humiliation, but also to save a darling little woman from 
 pain, or annoyance at least. I'll ask him how he courted you, by 
 this light !" 
 
 "If you dare!" said Annot, menacingly — "if you dare speak on 
 the subject, I'll write Haidee this evening!" 
 
 " Mum is the word, sister !" said Hyland, horror-stricken. " Mum 
 on both sides. I won't ask a question ; and if Miles should volun- 
 teer to tell me, I'll punch his head. It Avould be an agreeable varia- 
 tion to him, though, to exchange that terrible tongue for a regular 
 pounding !" 
 
 "What tongue, sir?" 
 
 "Glendare's!" answered Hyland, promptly and mendaciously. 
 "Don't you see how he is talking Miles to death. What a splendid 
 
292 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 fellow Miles is, Aunot ! It is a bad business to destroy the useful- 
 ness of a man like Miles! Wiiy, he used to go to London to read 
 papers on no end of topics, and was an active member of tiiree or 
 four stunning societies. But now ! Othello's occupation's gone !" 
 
 "What misfortune has overtaken him?" asked Annot, looking 
 proudly at her handsome lord ; " he looks quite well. If" he were 
 troubled by some unsolved problem affecting his welfare or happi- 
 ness, it is not probable that he would go moonstruck and moaning 
 to India !" 
 
 '* Indeed ?" said Hyland, with a grim smile. " But notice how 
 snubbed and subdued he looks. If you had known him in happier 
 days " 
 
 " Be quiet, sir ! You a^;e trying to provoke me, but you fail. 
 Ah, brother! I am not going to meddle with your affairs at all. 
 Because I know your excellent sense will deliver you from all per- 
 plexity. Just now you are jealous and sensitive, but I am not dis- 
 quieted. A little time, a favourable opportunity, a M'ord or two of 
 explanation What are you going back to Castledane for ?" 
 
 " I — I left my things there !" said Hyland, startled by the abrupt 
 question. "Besides — who said I Avas going back?" 
 
 " You did ! You said you would go afoot if necessaiy. You 
 can send for 'your things.' I can send for mine. You only had a 
 portmanteau. Why did you leave it?" 
 
 " I have plenty of things at Hawkley," he answered. " What is the 
 use of encumbering one's self Avith luggage ? But I have my wagon 
 there, and Tommy, and Zeba." 
 
 " Zeba can drive Tommy to Hawkley and Tommy can draw the 
 wagon. Your excuse is absurd ! You are going back to see Haidee !" 
 
 "Hush!" said Hyland, anxiously, "those fellows will hear you. 
 Have your own way ! I'll contradict you no more. I'll go back to 
 Castledane, and if you will write down what you wish me to say — 
 I'll say it, by this light ! You might be satisfied, though, with ruling 
 Miles with a rod of iron, and let me off! See here, sister. On 
 honour, now ! Do you think if all should turn out right, and I 
 should sret that little angel — do vou think she would be as relentless 
 a tyrant as — as some other married women ?" 
 
 " How can I tell? I have never known any tyrannical wives ! 
 Hyland ! Look at that lovely view " 
 
 " Bother the view!" was the rude rejoinder. "Now talk seriously 
 a moment. I am willing to admit the spoons " 
 
 " Spoons ?" 
 
THE WILL AND LETTERS. 293 
 
 "I mean the teiulcr emotions, sister. But you seem to think I 
 mio:ht |)roperly enter the lists against Glendare. Now suppose I 
 could win in such a cimtest? Can you counsel me to destroy the 
 hai)piness of my friend ? Could I b(; happy with her, if I tiiought 
 llamish was ilying for her?" 
 
 "Suppose you were dying for her yourself?" 
 
 " Well — suppose I am ? All the philosophy I know culminates 
 in one ])ostulate, to wit : he who secures the happiness of another 
 by self-denial gains a great good at a small price. You may prove 
 the jiostulate by reversing the proposition. Consider how much you 
 could enjoy a blessing gained at the cost of another's misery ! You 
 will not find this set down in the books. But I know it is true." 
 
 He looked so handsome as he spoke, that Annot gazed with ad- 
 miration at his animated countenance. ' 
 
 '' Here is Taunton !" said Hyland, " and there is John. Hi ! 
 John ! Plow is your master?" 
 
 " Dead, Mr. Hyland," answered the footman. " Apoplexy, sir." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The Will and Letters. 
 
 ^T^HE travellers found Mr, Plimpton at Brentara Villa. He had 
 -*- been with Mr. Brentam since his return from Milford, and 
 had drawn his will. The attack was quite sudden, and Mr. Bren- 
 tam died a few minutes after the arrival of the physician. He had 
 been greatly depressed, though he made no complaints, and his ap- 
 petite was very good at breakfast. He walked from the table into 
 the library, and there Mr. Plimpton found him speechless. He 
 rallied only once, and asked for "the Raynefords and Hamish." 
 These were the only words he had spoken. 
 
 Lady Rayneford suggested the propriety of going immediately to 
 Hawkley, leaving the gentlemen at Brentam Villa, if Miss Carey 
 desired their presence. This proposal was communicated to Mil- 
 dred, who sent a return message, begging the guests to remain, and 
 requesting Lady Rayneford's presence in her chamber for a short 
 time. Annot went in prompt response to this invitation. Mildred 
 was dressed, and met her visitor at the door, placed her in a luxu- 
 
294 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 rious chair near the window, removed her hat and shawl, and took 
 a seat near her. 
 
 "It was kind to come," she said, "and I hope you Avill remain a 
 few days. I have no one to talk to me, and suffer more from lone- 
 liness than anything else. Uncle died very suddenly, but he did not 
 seem to be in pain. Apart from the shock, which has unnerved me, 
 I think I could be thankful that he departed so quietly. The 
 doctor says he certainly did not suffer from the first attack." 
 
 " If my presence will comfort you, Miss Carey " 
 
 " Please call me Mildred — I seem to know you, and I am sure I 
 desire your friendship. In such a time as this Me may dispense 
 with forms. I should like to call you Annot, if I might." 
 
 Annot leaned forward, put her plump arm around her neck and 
 kissed her. Mildred hid her face on her new friend's neck a few 
 minutes, and when it reappeared it was quite serene. The two 
 women looked steadily at each other as they talked. Annot knew 
 this was the woman who had first attracted Miles, and Mildred 
 knew the extent of Annot's knowledge. Miles, the outspoken, honest 
 gentleman, would never have proposed to another woman without 
 telling of his previous admiration for her. And with the clair- 
 voyant perception of her sex, she saw the thoughts in Annot's 
 mind. 
 
 "Lord Rayneford has been so dear a friend,'"' said Mildred, "that 
 I am more than ready to love you for his sake. We were children 
 together, and he has always seemed like a brother to me. Uncle 
 was very much attached to him also ; and since he learned your 
 name, he has charged me more than once to cultivate vour friend- 
 ship when you got settled at Hawkley. I am sure he had a pre- 
 sentiment of approaching death. My cousin Frank AVhat 
 
 is it, Mary ?" 
 
 "Letter, mum," said the maid. " Mr. Plimpton said you had 
 better open it." 
 
 "It is from Bath," said Mildred, "and looks like Mr. Payne- 
 ford's hand. I will see if it is important, Mary." She broke the 
 seal, read the note with close attention, and after meditating, dis- 
 missed her maid. 
 
 " Tell Mr. Plimpton it contains only private matters, and I will 
 keep it." When the girl closed the door, Mildred gave the letter 
 to her companion. It was Hyland's note to Mr. Brentam, asserting 
 his confident belief in Daltman's safety. Annot read and returned 
 it to Mildred. 
 
THE WILL AND LETTERS. 295 
 
 "What do you think of it?" asktHl Miss Carey. "It is very 
 strange ! I cannot see the possibility of Frank's escape." 
 
 " If Ilvlaiul says so, it is certainly true !" replied Annot. 
 
 Mildred looked at her cn(|uiringly. 
 
 "I mean," said Annot, " that Ilyland would not say so much — 
 would not speak so confidently, with all his caution, unless he had 
 ncarlv positive proof. Your cousin is alive." 
 
 " You have not known Mr. Rayneford long," observed Mildred, 
 "yet you have exactly described him. I have known hiiu many 
 years, and never knew hira to be guilty of even tliose small deceits 
 that are generally permitted in polite society. The terrible calamity 
 of Frank's death overwhelmed me far more than the later bereave- 
 ment. I am quite able to go down, I think. I am eager to ask 
 Mr. Rayneford " 
 
 "Come, my dear," said Annot, rising; "they are all in the 
 library." 
 
 " Not in the library !" said Mildred. " Do you go down, my 
 lady " 
 
 " I thoutrht we had agreed to be Mildred and Annot " 
 
 " Annot, dear friend, please go down and take them to the draw- 
 ing-room. I will follow in a moment." 
 
 She was met at the foot of the staircase by Glendare and Ilyland. 
 They walked in the hall, talking chiefly about Daltman until Lord 
 Rayneford joined them. They met again at dinner, later in the day, 
 and the gloom that overhung the household was perceptibly lessened. 
 ;Mr. Plimpton announced that sjiecial reasons made it proper for 
 them all to remain at Brentam Villa until after the funeral. He 
 telegraphed for Mr. Dale the same evening, and the next day brought 
 that gentleman to Taunton, where the carriage was sent to meet him. 
 
 Lady Rayneford thus became known to all the fiimilies in the 
 vicinity of Hawkley, who assembled at Brentam Villa on the day 
 of the funeral. The formality of introduction into this society was 
 a very slight ordeal under the circumstances, and the shy young 
 bride was astonished to discover how closely the gentry of Somerset 
 resembled the cultivated people she had known in her birthplace. 
 After the funeral ceremonies were over, the household, with a few 
 near neighbours, were summoned to the library to hear the will of 
 the deceased gentleman. 
 
 There was a list of legacies to the servants of the household, to 
 some of the older operatives at the mills, and to one or two personal 
 friends. Then came the first important item, bequeathing to Miles, 
 
296 TEE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 Baron Eayneforcl of Hawkley, the sura of thirty thousand pounds, 
 represented by certain mortgages upon the estate of Hawkley, all 
 of which had become the property of the deceased by purchase from 
 the original holders. The last transfer had been made at Milford 
 only a week before. 
 
 Item : To Miles, Baron Rayneford of Hawkley, certain moneys 
 now in his hands, being the undivided proceeds of a joint invest- 
 ment, amounting to forty thousand pounds or more, and which his 
 executors were directed to assess upon the accounting of the said 
 Baron Rayneford of Hawkley. 
 
 Item : To Annot Mordaunt Dale Rayneford, Baroness Rayneford 
 of Hawkley, all that parcel of land known as Dale's Manor, adjoin- 
 ing the lands of Brentam Mills on the east, and consisting of sixteen 
 hundred acres, more or less. The possible imperfections in the title 
 to this estate would all be removed by a deed from Windham Dale, 
 Esquire, gentleman. 
 
 Item : To Windham Dale, Esquire, gentleman, ten thousand 
 pounds in the three per cent, consols. 
 
 Item : To the Honourable Hyland Rayneford of Hawkley, two 
 hundred shares of the capital stock of Brentam Mills, with the 
 request that he would give his personal supervision to the finances 
 of that property so long as he held said stock. 
 
 Item : To Mistress Mildred Carey, spinster, presently residing at 
 Brentam Villa, all the residue of his estate, real, personal, and 
 mixed. 
 
 Hamish Glendare and Hyland Rayneford were appointed execu- 
 tors. 
 
 The effect produced by the reading of this last testament was 
 very curious. Mildred was the only one of the listeners who heard 
 Mr. Plimpton's monotonous sentences with composure. Lord Rayne- 
 ford was burning with indignation at the thought of having this 
 load of money thrust upon him without his knowledge or consent. 
 His Avife, who had a vague idea that Dale's Manor was the rightful 
 inheritance of her father, was indignant at this transfer to her of the 
 very estate he was preparing to take by litigation. Mr. Dale was 
 disquieted because the legacy of ten thousand pounds was appended 
 to the bequest to Annot, as an apparent equivalent for his signature 
 to the imperfect title-deeds. Hyland sat quiet, like a true philoso- 
 pher, and thus cogitated : 
 
 " That lot of tin was intended for Frank. Mr. Brentam left it 
 to me because he thought Frank was drowned. Now, I shall just 
 
Till-: WILL AND LETTERS. 297 
 
 pass it over to Master Frank as soon as he returns to Englaml, and 
 in the meantime I'll let Hamisli do the executor work." 
 
 These meditations were iiiterrni)te<l by Mr. Plimpton's announce- 
 ment that a private letter had been written by tlie deceased to each 
 of the legatees, and confided to him for distribution. Producing 
 the letters, he folde<l the will and bowed, dismissing his audience. 
 
 "You all know my address in London," he said, "and can apply 
 to rae for copies of this will, or for any information relating to the 
 estate. Miss Carey, I must be in London to-morrow. AVill you 
 l)lease send me to Taunton at the proper time?" 
 
 The shutters were all opened, and the signs of mourning all dis- 
 appeared, excepting the black habiliments of the mistress of the 
 house. Lord Rayneford and Annot withdrew to the bay-window 
 and read their letters. 
 
 "My dear Miles," ran the first epistle, "you would not be sur- 
 prised at my will if you had known my thoughts since your boy- 
 hood. I have watched your career with great interest, and, with 
 Mr. Plimpton's assistance, I have gradually got possession of all the 
 claims upon Hawkley, for the sole purpose of leaving your inherit- 
 ance clear at my death. If I had announced this to you when 
 you were younger it is possible that you would not have acquired 
 your conservative habits, even if you had been willing to accept the 
 legacy. B\it you will have no such scruples in taking the gift from 
 me when I am in the church-yard. As for the value of the * Nellie' 
 and her splendid success, that is all due to your discreet management, 
 except the original outlay, which was very moderate. I may add — 
 but you will find that in your wife's letter. I shall not see you 
 again, even to welcome you to English shores, as I cannot mistake 
 the frecpient warnings that betoken my approaching death. Take 
 the gifts, my friend, without reluctance, and my blessing with them." 
 
 Annot's letter was shorter : 
 
 " My dear young lady, you are dear to me for your mother's sake, 
 and also for the sake of your gallant husband. I leave your father's 
 estate to you instead of to him, as I at first purposed, because I 
 bought it for your mother. You will find an old will, cancelled by 
 this last one, in which Dale's Manor is given to Annot Mordaunt 
 Dale. The title is not so clear as it might be, but no one except 
 your father can contest it. I have given Rayneford the proceeds 
 of the sale of his vessel, because his adventurous expedition in the 
 ' Nellie' ended in his marriage with you. There is no man in Eng- 
 land to whom I would so gladly give you. There is no woman in 
 
298 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 the world whom I would so gladly welcome as his wife as Annot 
 Mordaunt Dale." 
 
 Mr. Dale's note had neither address nor signature. It was as 
 follows : 
 
 " The thousand pounds sent to me by Mrs. Dale on the day of her 
 marriage was in excess of any debts due me from her husband. I 
 did not return it because I could not properly answer the message 
 that came to me with the money. But I invested the sum, and 
 added its accretions year by year, and the ten thousand pounds left 
 by my will to Windham Dale is the same money and its gains." 
 
 Hyland's letter was the longest : 
 
 " I know very well, Hyland, what your thought will be when 
 my w-ill is read in your presence. You will immediately conclude 
 that you owe this gift to Frank's death. But you are mistaken ; I 
 should have made the same disposition of this stock if Frank had 
 been alive. And now I will give you ray reasons, if my strength 
 holds out while I write. 
 
 " There are only three hundred and ninety-five shares of the stock, 
 and I retained these two hundred, which is rather more than half, 
 in order to keep control of the property. Two hundred shares elects 
 the managing director, and my earnest desire is to have you in that 
 position. There is no salary and very little responsibility, but there 
 is plenty of occupation. Your duty will be to supervise the finan- 
 cial operations of the corporation. You cannot transfer this duty 
 to another. The managing director is instructed and required to 
 audit all accounts, to authorise all outlays of money, and no in- 
 debtedness that binds the property can be incurred without his 
 signature. Your pecuniary rewards must come from the dividends 
 ujion the stock. 
 
 " I have spent a long life in bringing Brentam Mills to their 
 present condition. And this property has taken the place of kindred 
 in my affections. It would be a sore thought to me if I could 
 imagine these vast interests going to decay or loss through misman- 
 agement, neglect, or dishonesty. 
 
 "With the exception of twenty shares, belonging to Mildred, all 
 the rest of this stock is held by people in moderate circumstances. 
 A large part of it is held by w^idows and minor children ; sometimes 
 five shares, and sometimes only one or two, form the sole source of 
 revenue to helpless families. The charter provides that no share can 
 be sold or transferred except w'ith the consent of the managing 
 director, who always has the right of purchase first at the offered 
 
THE OVERCOAT. 299 
 
 price. I need liardly tell you that I have always bought auy stock 
 that was offered for sale, sometimes with, and sometimes without 
 competition. But I have never held such purchases a day. Because 
 I have a list of applications for any of the stock that may be for 
 sale, and I have selected the new owners from this list according to 
 my best judgment. 
 
 " Ilyland, I leave this trust to you. There are sixty-one owners 
 of the stock — nearly all of them sustained by its dividends alone. 
 These sixty-one represent fully fifty families — all of them in 
 Somerset. The chief occupation of my later life has been to con- 
 serve their interests. Do you think I could have left this burden 
 upon poor Frank ? And if I had, do you think he could have met 
 the responsibility ? 
 
 "The dividends upon this stock have been uniformly twenty 
 pounds per share per annum, and there is a steadily increasing sur- 
 plus, M-hich will be divided some day. Your income will therefore 
 be four thousand pounds, if you keep up the prosperity of the mills. 
 I would gladly pay you that salary, if I could live and watch your 
 management. Farewell, Ilyland. 
 
 " Affectionately yours, H. Brentam." 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 The Overcoat. 
 
 MILDRED consented to spare Lady Rayneford two hours the 
 next morning to drive over to Hawkley, '^just to get one 
 look." Lord Rayneford was obliged to escort her, of course, and Mr. 
 Dale begged permission to accompany them, to revive the memory 
 of scones he had not looked upon for twenty-five years. Glendare 
 and Ilyland, in their official capacity as executors, -were to spend the 
 two hours over the private papers of Mr. Brentam, assisted by Miss 
 Carey. They had opened the iron safe in the library, and were 
 seated aroiuid the centre-table, deep in the investigation of title-deeds 
 and certificates, when the carriage bore the others away. 
 
 " Ilamish," said Miss Carey, " there will perhaps be no more 
 fivoural)le opportunity than the present to tell you certain things 
 whicli vou must know." 
 
300 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Allow me to walk down the garden," said Hyland, rising. " I 
 am hungering for a cheroot." 
 
 "On the contrary," said Mildred, "your presence is needed. 
 There are gaps in ray storv which you must fill. It is about 
 Frank." 
 
 " I really know next to nothing " 
 
 "Do not waste valuable time, Mr. Rayneford, please," said she. 
 "You know far more than you will tell. But we three must act in 
 concert, and there should be entire confidence between us," Hyland 
 resumed his seat. 
 
 " Hamish, I think Frank undoubtedly carried Miss Mordaunt 
 away in his yacht. I saw the yacht, and saw her taken aboard " 
 
 " No, you didn't !" said Hyland. " Excuse me, but the yacht was 
 at Milford that evening." 
 
 " But the man told me it was a yacht " 
 
 " Yes," said Hyland. " And he told me afterwards that he had 
 lied to you." 
 
 " I think, Hyland," observed Mr. Glendare, with crisp gentleness, 
 "you had better allow Mildred to tell her story without interrup- 
 tion." 
 
 Hyland stammered an apology and subsided. 
 
 " Frank told me he was bent upon a desperate venture, and asked 
 for my aid. He would not give me any hint of his purpose, but 
 promised that no harm should befall any one. I consented to meet 
 him on Clifton Downs, where Miss Mordaunt would be found at a 
 certain hour. I had never seen her, and did not know it was she 
 that the men seized until it was all over. One of them asked me if 
 my name was Mordaunt, but this did not occur to me until they 
 were bearing her off. I think I threatened them, but they paid 
 very little attention to me and got away. Then I saw Mr. Kayne- 
 ford on the opposite bank of the river. I thought it Mas Frank. I 
 waved my handkerchief to him, but he did not respond. Then, 
 after some hesitation, I walked back to the bridge, crossed, and went 
 to the point where I saw Mr. Rayneford. But he was gone. I 
 took the first train to Bath, intending to find Colonel Mordaunt, 
 and Frank met me at the station as soon as the train arrived, 
 and his first eager question showed me that he had not been to 
 Clifton at all. He took me down to Mrs. Gordon's, where we 
 always stopped when in Bath, and besought me to have patience 
 and keep quiet only two days, when his scheme would be a 
 grand success, and Haidee would be Mrs. Daltman. Then he 
 
THE OVERCOAT. 301 
 
 left inc. You came inuuediately afterwards, and Mr. Rayneford 
 still later. 
 
 " When vou left us, Mr. Rayncford told me he had witnessed the 
 abduetion, and had seen me also. He thought I had assisted in this 
 atrocious act. I could only tell him that Frank had misled me, 
 ami that I had his promise, solemnly pledged, that no harm should 
 follow. I did not mention llaidee's name, but he found it some- 
 how. Who told you, Mr. Rayneford ?" 
 
 Hylanil pointed across the tid)le. 
 
 " What ! Hamish ? How could he know ?" 
 
 " Hyland had a picture," said Mr. Glcndare, with precise enunci- 
 ation, " and at the moment tliat Leigh's message reached me, telling 
 me Haidee was lost, Hyland was siiowing the picture to me. He 
 
 had some confused story about the picture Ha ! Hyland ! 
 
 Are you ill ?" 
 
 The question was induced by Mr. Rayneford's contortions of coun- 
 tenance. He was endeavouring to stop tlie even flow of Mr. Glen- 
 dare's narrative by making faces at him that would have frightened 
 a timid child into convulsions. 
 
 " It is nothing," answered Plyland. " We discovered together. 
 Miss Carey, that Miss Mordaunt had been abducted. We both 
 went to Bristol that night, and after all our investigation we found no 
 certain clue. I did not mention Frank, because — for several reasons." 
 (The chief reason was because he wished to strangle Frank with his 
 own hands.) " Please resume your story." 
 
 " I came back here the next day," continued Miss Carey, " and on 
 the second day I received a message from Frank, by telegraph, from 
 Mil ford. He merely said he had found the lady, and she was safe 
 and on her way to her father. On the next day I received a note 
 from him. He was at Castledane. His note said his scheme was 
 foiled by the officious interference of some sailor, who was assisted 
 by a Hindoo. He was j)ushed into the sea, and his dress was so 
 utterly ruined that he could not show himself to Haidee. Besides, 
 the Hindoo would go directly to Colonel Mordaunt with the story. 
 So he assumed the rule of rescuer. And now he was courting in or- 
 thodox fashion. This was his last message. I could understand his 
 reluctiuice to appear in soiled garments, as he has been more precise 
 and old-maidish about his attire, all his life, than any woman of my 
 acquaintance. He was a dandy when in short clothes. I never saw 
 him otherwise than scrupulously neat. 
 
 " He sold his commission and had the money with him when he 
 
302 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 sailed away the other night. He told uncle this on board the yacht. 
 I think he must have had some success with Miss Mordaunt, as her 
 picture was in his possession. Uncle saw it. It was taken on Clifton 
 Downs, near the Observatory." 
 
 " AVhy, Hyland !" said Glendare, "there is some absurd mistake 
 here ! Frank certainly could not get your })icture, and " 
 
 " Bother the picture !" said Hyland, frowning like a thunder-cloud. 
 " I never saw such a fellow ! You were quite ready to rebuke me a 
 moment ago for interrupting ^liss Carey, and yet you have stopped 
 her a dozen times with some rubbish about a confounded picture ! 
 Never mind him, Miss Carey, but proceed." 
 
 '•' I cannot proceed if I set you two to quarrelling," replied Mil- 
 dred, eyeing the two keenly. " Pray, what is the picture you speak 
 of with such vehemence?" 
 
 The two men sat in gloomy silence, glaring at each other across 
 the table. 
 
 "Will one of you gentlemen oblige me with an answer?" said 
 Mildred, composedly. 
 
 " Pardon me. Miss Carey," said Hyland. " Mr. Glendare meant 
 to say — that there was a certain picture of mine, which he saw — er 
 — which was taken on Clifton Downs, near the Observatory." 
 
 "And what has that to do with the picture Frank had?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing. Only — that is — Miss Mordaunt had a copy — a kind 
 of copy " 
 
 " Bosh !" said Glendare. " Hyland, my dear boy, let me tell the 
 story." 
 
 "Tell, then !" said Hyland, "but try to adhere to the truth !" 
 
 " Certainly !" responded Glendare ; " nothing but the truth. And 
 not all of that, if you object. It is very simple, Mildred. Mr. 
 Rayneford was photographing the Observatory. Haidee was in the 
 wav, and her picture was taken. It was quite accidental. He was 
 not trvins: to take the ladv, but onlv the structure. It is unfor- 
 tunately true that the picture of the lady was perfect, and as she was 
 from three to ten feet nearer the camera than the structure was, it 
 was a wonderful accident that made the focus just right. Perhaps 
 Hyland can explain that ! I am not a photographer." 
 
 " Pish !" said Hyland, impatiently ; " what is the use of talking 
 about matters you don't understand? You see, ]\Iiss Carey, the 
 focus is changed by a single turn of a screw, and when I saw the 
 lady in the foreground " 
 
THE OVERCOAT. 303 
 
 "You just turned tlic screw?" said Glendarc. "I thought so !" 
 
 " And this picture Frank had ?" asked Mil(h-ed. 
 
 " Well. You must enquire of Mr. Rayneford," said Glendare, 
 politely. " If he gave the picture to Frank, or to Ilaidee, he hius 
 not got it now, I suppose. If lie has it now, I presume lie can say 
 so." 
 
 Hyland took the soiled picture from his pocket and unwrapped 
 it. ^Mildred took it and walked to the bay-window, where the light 
 was better. 
 
 " What a lovely girl !" she exclaimed. " This is the lady I saw 
 on the Downs. Is it Haidee ?" 
 
 " Yes," siiid Glendare. " Is that all, Hyland ?" 
 
 "All what?" 
 
 "All the pictures you took?" 
 
 " I only took one picture." 
 
 "And this is it?" persisted Glendare. 
 
 " Yes. That is — that is taken from the one plate. You can take 
 a hundred copies if you like from the one negative." 
 
 " But you took only this one?" said Mr. Glendare, gently. 
 
 " I usually take three or four copies. I did not count. I don't 
 remember accurately how many I took. That is the picture Frank 
 had, though." 
 
 " And the same you showed me at Bath ?" 
 
 " Xow, by this light !" said Hyland. " Excuse me. Miss Carey, 
 but this fellow is like a whole swarm of wasps buzzing around 
 one's ears ! AVhat possible difference can it make whetiier that is 
 the solitary copy or one of a thousand ?" And he rewrapped the 
 picture and replaced it in his pocket, while his friend shook with 
 merriment. 
 
 " There, old fellow!" he said, when he recovered his voice, "I 
 will ask no more questions. Frank stole the picture, Mildred. I 
 am sure of it. Haidee had it. She would never have given it to 
 Frank, poor child !" 
 
 "Why not?" said Hyland, distrustfully ; "why should she not? 
 He was with her day after day, and no one to interfere with him. 
 She did not know of his rascality." 
 
 "Ask yourself, Plyland !" replied Glendare, his eyes sparkling 
 .through his s|x?ctacles, as Mildred moved away. " How could a girl 
 — a sweet girl like Haidee, with pure and nol^le instincts, and with 
 quick perception of character — how could such a girl like you and 
 Daltman at the same time?" 
 
304 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 " Like me !" 
 
 " Yes, you owl ! She believes in you to an unlimited extent. 
 Many times in your absence, when Master Frank would insinuate 
 something to your discredit, I have seen her flame up, and while iier 
 head was encased in those dismal wrappings, I have known her to 
 fly at him and exterminate him with a sentence." 
 
 " How about Mr. Glendare ?" said Hyland, with an effort. 
 
 "Mr. Glendare? What do you mean? Did I not tell you 
 
 Here! I have not showed you Mr. Brentam's letter to me." And he 
 gave Hyland the note. 
 
 "My dear Hamish," it ran, "I have had a long talk with Mil- 
 dred. She will be your wife in due time. She has promised me. 
 No other man has ever had her real affection. She may have had a 
 passing fancy for another, but I am sure she would rather entrust 
 her happiness in your hands " 
 
 "By this light!" said Hyland, starting from his seat, "I must 
 go ! I am in no end of a mess ! Do you know anything about 
 trains, Hamish ? You jolly old vagabond, let me hug you ! I am 
 just dying to go " 
 
 "Go where?" said Mildred, returning. "Anything the matter?" 
 
 "Matter?" ejaculated Hyland, taking her hand and kiasiug it. 
 "Ah, Mildred, I am miserable until — I left my overcoat!" 
 
 "Where? We can get you one. Hamish ! " 
 
 "Left at Castledane ! No other will fit me. Can you let me off, 
 just a few hours — and tell me how to go? I could walk !" 
 
 Mildred touched the bell. 
 
 " Tell the coachman to saddle Zephyr for Mr. E-ayneford imme- 
 diately." The footman disappeared. " Now, Mr. Rayneford, my 
 mare is suffering for a gallop. She has not been out for six days. 
 Take her to Taunton, and leave her at the King's Arms. It is near 
 the station. Hamish, lend Mr. Rayneford an overcoat." 
 
 " W^ith pleasure," said Glendare, rushing up-stairs. 
 
 " Dear friend !" said Hyland, " how can I repay you ?" 
 
 " Bring the ov^ercoat back with you," she answered, laughing, as 
 Glendare came in with the srarment on his arm. 
 
 "Bother the overcoat!" said Hyland, "but thank you all the 
 same. I am roasting ! Nights are cool though, you know ! Here 
 is Zephyr, by tiiis light ! Tell old Miles, dear friends " 
 
 " If you should happen to see Haidee," said Glendare, while 
 Hyland had his foot in the stirrup, "will you please deliver a 
 message ?" 
 
TULWAR AND PICTURE. 305 
 
 " With pleasure ! Fire away, old man ! Tcmpus fur/it /" 
 
 "Please tell her nothing but the want of an overcoat intluced you 
 to ride sixteen miles on horseback and far in the night by rail " 
 
 "I'll be guided by circumstiinces," answered Hyland, mounting. 
 " Miss Carey, I will ride gently, I have at leaat four hours. King's 
 Arms. I'll not forget. Good-bye !" 
 
 There w;is a sore disappointment in store for Hyland. He reached 
 Taunton in time and caught the last train. But ten miles from 
 Taunton there was a most vexatious breakdown, and he spent several 
 hours watching the repairs that seemed to drag along at snail's i)ace. 
 The number of cheroots he turned into ashes was enormous. Then 
 he found a passenger whose wife was ill, at the other end of the 
 line, and who was half frantic at the delay. So he put his own 
 di.^^appointment in the background, and strove with earnest zeal to 
 comfort the distressed man. And thus the hours glided by, until 
 the train was once more in motion. It was after midnight. He 
 wound his watch, and propping himself up in his corner he fell asleep, 
 and dreamed of Juno with the great eyes, and called her Haidee. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 Tulwar and Picture. 
 
 TTTHEX Hyland reached Bath the sun was illuminating the 
 ' ^ house-tops. He obtained a vehicle and was driven out to 
 the gates of Castledane, where he alighted and dismissed the driver. 
 He felt a little shy as he walked up the green lane, as it was still 
 quite early, and the breakfast hour was ten o'clock. If he could 
 only see the housemaid or footman, he might slip quietly into 
 his room and remove the travel-stains from his habiliments, and 
 hunt for his — overcoat after breakfast. He was eager to see how 
 Haidee would receive him. He had not gotten a glimpse of her at 
 parting from these lovely scenes a week ago. Only a week! It 
 seemed like a year to him. There is the mansion, just visible 
 through the trees. There is Haidee's window, the sash open and 
 the muslin curtains floating inward, swayed by the gentle breeze, 
 redolent of sweet odours. " Peaceful be thy slumbers, sweet maiden." 
 He will just walk under the window, with stealthy footstep, and 
 blow a kiss through the curtains. 
 
 20 
 
306 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 But there is a mau stalking back and forth under the window. 
 As he approached, this man faces him, flashing out his tulwar 
 against the level rays of the sun, and saluting — military fashion. 
 
 " Salaam, sahib !" said the Hindoo. " Welcome ! Sahib come. 
 Guard relieved." 
 
 "Guard?" answered Hyland. "What can you mean, Zeba? 
 Anything the matter ? Everybody well ?" 
 
 " All well," said Zeba. " Sahib say, ' keep guard,' and Zeba 
 watch here every night. Sleep in day, when Beebe wake. When 
 night come, and Beebe put out light, take tulwar and watch." 
 
 " This is very extraordinary !" said Hyland, meditating. 
 
 " When sahib drive away, say in Hindoostanee, ' Zeba guard all I 
 love.' Then Zeba mount guard here." 
 
 " Thanks, friend ! All right !" said Hyland, blushing. " I re- 
 member. Can I get in without disturbing the household ? I mean 
 to my room. See how dusty I am. Have been travelling all night." 
 
 " This door," answered Zeba. " Sahib find staircase through 
 passage." And as the two departed the window-curtains were 
 drawn aside and Haidee's glowing face saluted the orb of day. 
 
 The morning bell sounded about an hour earlier than usual, and 
 while Hyland still doubted and examined the internal arrangements 
 of his watch, the second bell rang. That meant breakfast. He 
 went down to the drawing-room, meeting the colonel at the door. 
 
 " Welcome back, Hyland !" said his host, extending his hand. 
 " Mary just informed me of your arrival. We shall have an earlier 
 breakfast than usual. That restless little Haidee has some expedi- 
 tion on foot, and had me called at eight o'clock. Ah, here she is !" 
 
 Haidee, Avho had been waiting impatiently for Sir Hyland to get 
 down-stairs, walked in, kissing the colonel and holding out her hand 
 to Hyland. Her face had caught the sunlight, but her honest eyes 
 met his bravely. 
 
 " I knew you had come," she said, simply, " and I ordered break- 
 fast earlier. I am going to sketch the old castle, and I expect you 
 to escort me, and take some views. Breakfast is served, papa. 
 Come !" And she took Hyland's offered arm composedly, while he 
 gazed around to discover where the flood of sunlight that filled the 
 room came from. 
 
 There was a constant flow of conversation, as toast and muffins 
 and chops melted away before Hyland's assaults. He had lived on 
 cheroots since yesterday's luncheon. It was agreed between him 
 and Haidee, who sat by his side, that Tommy should take them 
 
TULWAR AND PICTURE. 307 
 
 to Castle Dane, and with sketeh-boolc uiuler lier arm, she took her 
 seat in Timothy Holly's wagon at ten o'clock. 
 
 " How dill you get away from Brentam Villa?" asked Ilaidec, as 
 they started. "Annot wrote me yesterday that Miss Carey would not 
 hear any suggestion " 
 
 " I told her — I left my overcoat here," answered Ilyland, " and 
 she allowed me to come for it. You have the same dress on that 
 you wore — when I took your i)icture." 
 
 " Yes," she answered. " I wore it on that account. Because you 
 must take another. That one is lost." 
 
 " Lost !" 
 
 " Lost !" she said, sadly. " I am so sorry ! I want another 
 exactly like that." 
 
 "How did you lose it?" 
 
 '' I don't know," she answered, with a troubled expression on her 
 face. " I am not sure, but I think somebody stole it. I saw him 
 with my portfolio " 
 
 " Him ?" 
 
 " Yes. Don't ask me. He is dead now, and I am trying to for- 
 give him." 
 
 Hyland took the picture from his pocket and put it in her hands. 
 
 " It came to me from the sea," he said. " I was at Milford when 
 the yacht was wrecked, or the next day, and his coat was found, and 
 this in the pocket. It is not entirely spoiled. I have tried to 
 restore it for you." 
 
 " And this is the only one you had ?" said Haidee, shyly. " You 
 do not care to keep it ? I mean for the Observatory." 
 
 "There is one more — Beebe. May I call you Be6be? It means 
 little lady, does it not?" 
 
 " Yes. Zeba gave me the name. But over there, at Nuttagur, 
 you called me Haidee. You have never called me Haidee here." 
 
 " Tommy has stopped," said Hyland. " Let me help you down. 
 Here is the castle. Haidee ! How dare I call you Haidee ? Over 
 there you were a mere child, always suffering. I never siiw your 
 face but once, and then only your eyes. Poor child ! How deeply 
 did I pity you in those days ! Let us sit down here." 
 
 " Yes. And you sent all the way from the mountains the remedy 
 for my neuralgia. How kind of you !" 
 
 "But it did not cure you, Be^be." 
 
 "But it did, sir! Doctor Leigh said I should not take it. But 
 I had your written directions. See! here is the paper. And I 
 
308 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 weighed the quinine myself and took it — and was cured. And I 
 have never told it." 
 
 " Took it ! Against the doctor's instructions !" said Hyland, 
 aghast. 
 
 " Yes. Because Sir Hyland sent it," she answered. 
 
 "Sir Hyland?" 
 
 " Yes. You have always been Sir Hyland since you killed the 
 tiger. Come ! let us sketch that buttress " 
 
 " Wait ! Here is the other picture, Haidee. When I took it I 
 did not know you. When I saw you on the bridge afterwards I did 
 not know you. But when I looked at this picture I knew I loved 
 you ! " 
 
 " May I keep it?" said Haidee, demurely. 
 
 " Keep it? Ah, no ! All the wealth of the world could not buy 
 it ! When I am absent from you I look at this, and see in those 
 beautiful eyes the calm, clear light of your pure soul. Do you know, 
 Haidee, that those eyes enslaved me the day you bound up my 
 wounded arm over there? Up in the mountains they haunted me 
 by day and by night. And yet I never thought of you as my pos- 
 sible wife, but as the child Haidee, the martyr to an incurable ail- 
 ment. When Doctor Connor told me of his drug, I was frantic with 
 eagerness until I could convey the good tidings to you." 
 
 " And I should have taken it if all the doctors in India forbade 
 me !" 
 
 " Then, when I heard you were coming to England, those eyes 
 brought me after you. I was not much disquieted about Miles. 
 But I longed for you ! When I came, first, I heard Daltman was 
 your suitor. And the picture was in his pocket!" 
 
 " He stole it, the wretch !" said Haidee, and then, remorsefully, 
 " Poor Mr. Daltman !" 
 
 " Don't waste pity on the scoundrel !" said Hyland, with savage 
 jealousy. " He is not dead. That sort of rascal don't die ! We 
 shall hear from him again." 
 
 " Why did you throw him into the sea?" said Haidee, suddenly. 
 " Ah ! I did not know you then ! I thought you were the drunken 
 old sailor. If you had only spoken then I should have gone with 
 you and Zeba. Brave Zeba ! He has been under my window every 
 night — seven nights !" 
 
 " He was guarding my love!" said Hyland, kissing her hand. 
 
 " 1 heard you tell him, in Hindoostanee," replied Haidee, slyly, 
 " and I hid. It was very bad Hindoostanee, too ! And I heard you 
 
TULWAR AND PICTURE. 309 
 
 talkiiijr with liiin tin's morninir. I tliou<rlit you niiijclit come, and I 
 was watching the lane. I saw you, sir !" 
 
 "Did vou know how I loved vou, Haidce?" 
 
 " Annot t(^ld me. Dear Annot ! And you told me." 
 
 " Wlien did I tell you?" 
 
 "At Clifton. In the Town Hall. Don't you remember?" 
 
 " 1 did not Siiy " 
 
 " Your eyes said everything ! Papa told me a few days afterwards 
 that Mr. Glendare wanted me. It was all a mistake, I knew. So 
 I did not tell him you had spoken first." 
 
 "Oh, Haidee! my own darling " 
 
 " When you killed the tiger — then I belonged to you. I said, 
 * This is Sir Hyland. My knight !' Juliet laugiied at me when I 
 forgot and called you Sir Hyland. I never told any one — except 
 Annot. You know she is my own cousin. And she held me in 
 her arms and told me how you loved me. And she warned me not 
 to tell you that I should inherit Castledane. She said you Rayne- 
 fords were prouder than the Mordatints. I cannot tell you any more, 
 sir ! That is the third time you have kissed me !" 
 
 " Forgive me !" said Hyland, penitently. " I did not know — 
 that is — I did not count. Just one more, and then I will never 
 oifend again, until — oh, Haidee, my love ! I am in constant 
 dread lest I should waken and find all this only a delicious 
 dream." 
 
 " Let us walk here," said Haidee, rising ; " we can see Tommy. 
 May I have Tommy ?" 
 
 " You own me, Haidee, and all that I own. Ha ! I have lost a 
 hundred pounds, by this light!" 
 
 " Where ? How ? You have not been away from this buttress. 
 Let us look." 
 
 " No use, Beebe. I lost it at Nuttagur ; at the base of the Ob- 
 servatory ; out on the sea ; among the breakers at Linton Sands. I 
 have not paid it yet. But I'll pay it anon. Before we face the 
 cold world again strengthen me for the encounter." 
 
 "I do not understand," she said, turning her big eyes to his. 
 
 "Do you not?" he answered. "Well, I mean let me kiss you 
 just once, and call me Hyland." 
 
 "Just plain Hyland?" she asked, doubtfully, while he took the 
 first part. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Hyland ! But I shall do it no more. Because you shall go 
 
310 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 into Parliament and get your title. I don't want you to be Lord 
 Rayneford. But you must be Sir Hyland. Will you do it ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And you give up India ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It is dreadful to be telling you all these secrets ; but this is the 
 last one, positively. When you went away from Nuttagur, with 
 your arm bound up, you left Zeba. And I watched him wlnle he 
 recovered. He and I could talk Pracrit, and nobody understood 
 that excej)t Sista. And when she was asleep I made Zeba tell me 
 many things about you. He told me how gentle you were, how 
 kind to him. He was only sergeant, and all tlie white officers were 
 rude to him. But he is a noble, and he is sensitive. He told me 
 you had never wounded him, even by a contemptuous look or 
 gesture. One day we were talking in the shadow of the bungalow, 
 and I told him about kniglithood and Avhat I understood to be 
 included in it. And I hinted that you were like the knights of my 
 dreams. * Beebe,' he said, ' I call these English sahib. They are 
 the lords of the land, whether they are noble or not. There is only 
 one sahib in India ! It is Sahib Hyland.' Then he told me about 
 the tulwar, and tried to draw it with his feeble arm. 'Hyland sahib 
 was Lord of the tulwar. So long as the blade was bright Lord 
 Hyland was well.' All foolish superstition, is it not?" 
 
 " Yes, darling. Certainly." 
 
 " Well, every day, and many times a day, I, poor Haidee, ailing, 
 morose, and stupid, drew out the sword and examined the blade. 
 So long as Zeba was near enough, I consulted the tulwar. And 
 seven times a day in the past seven days I called my bodyguard to 
 me, when no one else was near, and bade him present arms. This 
 morning, when you came under my window, Zeba was only perform- 
 ing his customary duty, when he unsheathed his weapon and pre- 
 sented arms to you. But I did not see the bright blade to-day. I 
 only saw you, my lord ! And I knew you had travelled through 
 the long night to come to me." 
 
 " Haidee ! the devotion of my entire life " 
 
 " Hyland sahib !" she answered ; " give me the tulwar, and you 
 may " 
 
 "What, Haidee?" 
 
 " You may keep the Clifton picture." 
 
L ENVOI. 311 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 L'Envoi. 
 
 1 ETTERS came from Mr. Daltman before the Christmas holi- 
 -'— ^ days and while Ilaldce's lioneymoon was still full. He was 
 residing in New York, ami gradually withdiawing his capital from 
 consols and from his Essex estate, and was investing in various 
 American enterprises. He wrote only to Miss Carey, but his letters 
 were exhibited to Mrs. Rayncford, and it is highly probable that the 
 Honourable Mr. Rayncford was acquainted with their contents also. 
 There was a full and very truthful account of the abduction, with a 
 confession of his motives and purposes. He intended to take Haidee 
 out to sea, if necessary, and to force a marriage. Castledane was the 
 chief attraction, he acknowledged, but he had also become fascinated 
 more and more each time he encountered Haidee. He spoke in dis- 
 contented tones of the stringency of English law, and boasted of the 
 superior civilization of America, where such a small personal exploit 
 could be easily rendered legal by the judicious application of money. 
 Divorce laws were plenty, and, of course, there could be no difficulty 
 about establishing a legal marriage. When Haidee read this passage, 
 her teeth clicked together like the snap of a percussion-cap, and she 
 privately meditated u})on the propriety of sending Zeba and the tul- 
 war to America to put the laxity of the laws to the proof. 
 
 Hyland quit Kant, Spinoza, and Compte, and took a course of read- 
 ing uj)on mill management and finance. It was the constant boast of 
 Brentam Mills, that no claim against the corporation that was a week 
 old could be produced in the world. The scrutiny of the compli- 
 cated accounts, the outlays for sui)j>lies, and the income from sales 
 engrossed his attention three days in each month. As managing 
 director he had to be mayor of the village, and being mayor he was 
 commissioned as justice of the peace. Then there came a time when 
 an address to the Crown had to be prepared and presented, and it 
 was part of his official duty to write and present this important 
 document in Downing Street. The consequence was knighthood, 
 which he took from the sword of the prime minister. At this point 
 Lady Rayneford protested against any advance in rank. He was 
 legally Sir Hyland, and this was the summit of her ambition. But 
 he unfortunately got into politics, and was returned to Parliament as 
 member for the borough of which Brentam Mills was a part. And 
 he has never been able to shake off these honours. Twice, and under 
 
312 THE CLIFTON PICTURE. 
 
 different cabinets, he has been invited to accept a peerage, and Hai- 
 dee now shakes her head less resolutely, as she watches the antics of 
 Master Mordaunt Rayneford, aged ten, and reflects that the knightly 
 title does not descend from father to son. She thinks Lord Castle- 
 dane might still be plain Sir Hyland to her. 
 
 Juliet, the adopted daughter of Horace Mordaunt, and real 
 daughter of a certain Major Landis, who died in India, inherited 
 the London house under the colonel's will, together with enough 
 rupees in various Indian stocks to make her independent, and also 
 — to make her suspicious of all admirers. She still lives in single- 
 blessedness. But a large part of her mansion is reserved for Sir 
 Hyland and Lady Rayneford's frequent visits, and the amiable 
 spinster is kept in perpetual terror lest the two boys, ISIordaunt and 
 Dane, should blow the walls out or the roof off at some unguarded 
 moment. 
 
 Brentam Villa is closed during the summer, when Mr. and Mrs. 
 Glendare are in the Highlands. In the winter they return to sweet 
 Somerset, and at Christmas there is the regular reunion at Hawkley. 
 Here Zeba is in his glory, with the boys of the various houses de- 
 pending upon him for ghastly stories of Indian life, while another 
 Beebe Haidee nestles in his lap, and promises to mature in all the 
 loveliness of the original of the Clifton picture. 
 
 THE END. 
 
f 
 
 'i/8^ 
 
RARK BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THK LIBRARY OF THK 
 
 UNIVKRSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 Al 
 
 CHAPKL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 272