THE DISCOVERY OF FAMILY PAPERS BY WILDFIRE NED.
The first thing which Ned did, when he arrived in London, was to
report himself at the Admiralty, where many old naval officers of
great reputation met and congratulated him on the great success
which had attended him and Lieutenant Garnet in fighting against the
Skeleton Crew.
Honours were showered on him everywhere he went.
Yet he was not happy.
He had neither father nor mother, nor any single relation in the
world.
Sir Richard Warbeck he knew, and felt in his heart, was only a friend
to him, and not an uncle.
Who was he, then?
“Am I lowly or highly born?” he thought.
He felt that he must have sprung from a superior stock.
Yes; but how?
Was he entitled to any great estates in his own right?
He felt that there was some dark, deep mystery hanging over him.
He would have given the whole world to unravel it.
But he could not.
Sir Richard’s manner had always been very kind, good, and fatherly.
But still with all that it was strange.
His manner, it might be said, was like that of a man who knew some
grand secret, and yet would not reveal it!
“When King Charles the First was beheaded,” Ned thought, “the
Cromwellians drove many rich and powerful nobles from the land, and
confiscated all their great estates.
“Suppose that my father was one of these!
“He might have been a noble! Who knows?” thought Ned; and as this
conviction flashed across his mind, he resolved to let no chance pass
by in order to find it out.
“Who was my father?” Ned had often asked of Sir Richard.
The old man smiled, but answered not.
The more he repeated this question and was put off, the more he
resolved to find out the grand secret.
All he could find out was this:—
“I do not wonder that you and Phillip Redgill can never agree,”
old Sir Richard would say; “for your families have always been at
daggers’ points for centuries.”
“Indeed!” Ned would say, “how?”
“How I cannot explain yet,” was the invariable answer. “When you are
twenty-one years old, you may know more; but this much I will tell
you, Ned, that old Redgill, Phillip’s father, hated your father much
worse than you do Phillip.”
“How I cannot explain!” repeated Ned often, when in the cosy library
at Darlington Hall, conversing with the old knight in long winter
evenings. “How! Why, tell me all.”
“You are too young yet; one day you will find out all if you live to
be old enough!”
“If I only live to be old enough,” thought Ned; “often and often
those words sound ominously; but if I am spared I’ll find it out
before I am twenty-one years old. I am man enough now for anything;
and if any wretch still lives who has acted the traitor towards my
father, let him tremble.
“There has always been bad blood between the Redgills and my father’s
family, eh! so the old knight says; then my name is not—it cannot be
Warbeck!”
Wildfire Ned was almost driven mad at the thought of this grand
family secret.
“Why do they conceal my real name? Who knows, I might be the son of
some lord!”
With these thoughts ringing in his head Ned Warbeck directed his
footsteps to the town house of the old knight, which was situated in
Mayfair.
The servants rejoiced at his return, but Ned was moody.
Sir Richard was out, but where he had gone to no one could tell.
He heard the news about his brother Charley, and of Redgill’s
villany, and he swore like a true tar thereat.
He paced the library up and down, and cast his eyes first to one old
dusty book-shelf and then to another, but he did not care to remain
in the place; it was so cold and comfortless.
“I always thought that this old library was haunted,” thought Ned,
“and I never liked it.”
He was about to leave when his foot struck against something in the
floor.
To his amazement one of the boards of the flooring sprung up.
He had trod upon a secret spring!
To his still greater astonishment he discovered a small old oak chest.
It was bound with clasps and bolts of brass.
It had six padlocks on it.
“This is some hidden treasure,” thought Ned.
He pulled out the small chest, and, after locking himself in, began
to prize open the chest.
With much perseverance and labour he succeeded at last in breaking it
open.
It contained nothing but a packet of musty, dusty papers.
“What can this mean?” thought Ned.
He eagerly seized the bundle, and on the outside read,
“Family papers; not to be opened until the death of Sir Richard
Warbeck. They then belong to the heirs of the celebrated Sir Edward
Lancaster, who was banished from the kingdom by Cromwell. The
enclosed is a short sketch of his rise and fall in the state, and
of the origin of the Skeleton Band; how, and when, and where it was
formed. Some of the names mentioned are not the right ones. The
key to the proper names can be found elsewhere on the death of Sir
Richard Warbeck.”
“Strange!” thought Ned; “why, what mystery is here? Some grand family
secret. It may be useful for Charley and myself to know this.
“Sir Edward Lancaster,” sighed Ned; “I have heard of him. But surely
that is not my name? I wonder if any mystery hung over my father’s
early career, like my own?”
In great mental excitement he locked and barred the old library
doors, tore open the packet, and read, with a trembling hand,—
A STATE SECRET. THE KING’S BASTARD.
“The evening sun was flashing in the west, shedding streams of
many-coloured glory on the forests and plains surrounding one of
England’s fairest villages, and the red brick walls and tower of a
quadrangularly built military college threw a deep black shade on
the grassy sward and gigantic trees, through which grand walks and
carriage drives intersected and united at the heavy iron gates.
“Equestrians galloping along the dusty roads would wheel and halt, or
form their position on the hill, gazing intently towards the quiet
college grounds.
“But as the gates were yet closed, they resumed their riding,
chatting in twos and threes, seemingly impatient for the evening bell
to toll.
“One of the boldest and most fearless of the equestrians turned
her head frequently to the silent distant tower, and spurring her
noble animal into a sweeping gallop, dashed past the sombre gates at
headlong speed, her face aglow with the ruddiness of health, and her
auburn tresses flowing in girlish negligence upon her shoulders.
“The porter at the college gates, with grey hair and stooping gait,
slowly unlocked the ponderous portals with solemn movement, and as he
furtively looked at the fearless girl, with whip on high, galloping
through the dust at break-neck speed, he devoutly prayed for her
safety.
“Despite the pious porter’s fears, Lady Emma Bray rode along the
road, turned up the forest carriage drive of an elegant neighbouring
hall, and without stopping, leaped the gate, to the great
astonishment of several rustics at the plough, and suddenly halted
before the door.
“Throwing the reins carelessly over a gate-post, she tucked up her
dark-green riding habit, and laughingly tripping along the grassy
sward, advanced towards a grey-haired old gentleman, who, with coat
unbuttoned and slouched hat on head, sat under a peach tree, with his
legs resting against the trunk, reading and puffing a clay pipe.
“‘Wake up, colonel!’ she said, laughing, lightly touching him across
the shoulder with her riding-whip. ‘I’m come to see Clare. I want her
to go with me to the parade. What say you, uncle?—will you escort us?’
“Before he could reply, Lady Emma kissed him, and passed into the
house singing; and going into the parlour, sat down to the harp, and
dashed off ‘Long live the King,’ with great gusto.
“‘Where’s Clare?’ she asked of a maid—‘Gone to church! Bother!
disappointed again. Why, Clare’s _always_ at church. Heigho!’
“She flung the music aside, and sat tapping her boots with the whip,
while rocking and rolling in an arm-chair, which was in perfect
keeping with the costly and elegant rosewood and blue with which the
apartment was furnished.
“Lady Bray was re-adjusting her brown gauntlets, and about to depart,
when Colonel Temple sauntered into the room with a hound at his
heels, which immediately began to caress the young lady.
“‘A penny for your thoughts, lady,’ said he, laughing. ‘There, don’t
look so cross, pet, or I shall imagine we are not friends.’
“‘I’m not cross, uncle; but you know it is so provoking to be
disappointed.’
“‘Well, well, pet, cheer up! When the college breaks up for the
season, we’ll have plenty of fishing and hunting, and picnics without
end. I didn’t know that Clare was out until you inquired—gone
visiting some poor folks, I suppose, as usual. At church! Well, well,
what a girl she is. She’ll soon be back again.’
“‘No, I’m sure she won’t, uncle, if she’s gone to church, for she’s
the greatest girl for praying I ever saw.’
“‘I know it’s all very admirable in one’s character,’ said young Lady
Emma, moving about the apartment, and arranging her disordered hair
in the mirror; ‘but I could not kneel so long as Clare does—no, not
for all the world. Come, uncle, you mustn’t laugh and go away in that
manner; I want you to escort me to the parade this evening. I’m sure
you’ll not refuse—besides, we shall be sure to meet Clare. I’ll go
into the cathedral and fetch her, if we don’t meet her on the way.
I know where to find her; in a snug little pew, shut out from all
observation.’
“As blue-eyed, oval-faced Emma, with her radiant looks and careless
manner, took the old colonel’s arm, and proceeded, with laugh and
joke, through the forest-path towards the small town lying in the
valley, they soon came to the cathedral, and the colonel stopped.
“The great door being slightly ajar, Emma stepped lightly in, and its
quiet calm and beauty arrested her hurried, impetuous gait.
“Evening service was over.
“The sinking sun shed its rays through stained-glass windows, and
streams of blue, white, orange, purple, and pink fell in varied
beauty upon its doric columns and tiled floors.
“The slightest sound was audible, and as the boughs of chestnut trees
swayed against the windows, and the birds warbled their even-song,
each rustle and note echoed through the edifice.
“Emma slowly closed the creaking door, and, stealthily stealing
forwards, discovered Clare, whose pale face and dark eyes were raised
in deep meditation.
“A touch and gesture were all that passed, and Clare rose slowly and
left the place with noiseless step.
“‘Not go to the grand military parade, child?’ asked the colonel,
when Miss Clare had joined them. ‘You used to be amazingly fond of
such things a few months ago. Come, Clare, Lady Emma has been waiting
for you ever so long.’
“Lady Emma looked inquiringly into Clare’s face, as they walked side
by side, and seemed grave and vexed.
“‘Well, then, cousin, as you are indisposed, the colonel, I know,
will excuse you. I shall call about seven, and spend the evening with
you.’
“Lady Emma and the colonel walked on in silence, until the latter
remarked,
“‘She’s the only one left to me now. Sons and daughters have gone
from home—some are in the clay, others are married. My whole life
and soul are centred in her, Lady Emma, and it grieves me to see her
looking so thoughtful of late. I wish she was as gay a romp as you.’
“Lady Emma did not speak, but seemed deep in thought until they
reached the college parade-grounds, where numbers of gay visitors,
broken up into small groups, gave variety and animation to the scene.
“Lady Bray was soon recognised by acquaintances, who laughed and
chatted round the white-haired colonel as if they were all his
children.
“The bell tolled the hour, and soon there issued from the various
wings crowds of military students, tired with the lectures of the day.
“The drums beat, the band assembles, and soon there come upon the
ground hundreds of students in gay uniforms, who, with sword and
musket, fell in, and immediately go through a series of battalion
movements, in quick and double time.
“The precision of step and erect soldierly bearing of the collegians
elicited applause; and as platoons filed past and wheeled into line,
broke into columns of company, and marched in quick or double time,
the glittering of the bayonets, the waving of banners, and harmonious
strains of the band, was a spectacle that called forth the applause
of all present.
“So that when the whole line advanced, halted, and presented arms
to numbers of the fair sex screened under the colonnade of trees,
enthusiasm reached its height; and the drill and parade passed off
with much éclat.
“As soon as the troops marched out of the quadrangle to the armoury
at the rear, the visitors slowly dispersed.
“Many of the students obtained a few hours’ leave, so that when all
dispersed to their residences in town or in the outskirts, there were
but few ladies unaccompanied by relations or friends in uniform.
“Colonel Temple and Lady Bray were the object of much attention; and
as the old hero was an especial favorite with all, he insisted upon
taking some half dozen or more of the young ladies to his house to
supper.
“Each lady was gallanted, so that as the white-headed old soldier
went along the forest walk, he looked more like a patriarch leading
forth his children’s children, than a gay-hearted, brave colonel of
dragoons.
“‘Here we are, girls,’ said the colonel, opening the gate and
admitting his young friends, here we are, young gentlemen, make the
place your own as much as you like, only don’t hurt my conservatory,
else Clare will never forgive you.’
“‘Now, then, Nance,’ shouted he, calling to the housemaid.
“‘Now, then, Dick, bestir yourselves; tell Miss Clare there’s troops
of friends come to see her; make supper ready quick as possible; and
one of you go down to town and bring up a band to play for us. I know
the girls’ll like a dance.’
“While the good old man was thus bustling about, frightening the big
cook and the butler with a multitude of orders, pale-faced Clare came
forth to welcome her many friends; and from the fondness of caresses
bestowed upon her by the females, and the hearty gallant behaviour of
the gentlemen, her manner became embarrassed.
“Her hair fell loose from continual hand-shaking, and her face was
all radiant with blushes.
“‘I’m really glad to see you all; this is _quite_ a surprise. Come
in Mollie. How do, Lizzie? Ah! Josephine, dear. Come in, gentlemen,’
said Clare bustling about. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come.’
“And while she bustled about, giving orders to various servants, Lady
Bray helped her to do the honors of the house (for the colonel was a
widower), and made every one at home.
“Music was the order of the evening, and ere long, harps, flutes,
violins, and voices were good-humoredly engaged in quartettes and
chorusses.
“The colonel was in his element.
“He was here, there, and everywhere; ordering this, and arranging
that, for the evening dance.
“His anxiety was so great to please the young people, and he seemed
so flurried with his preparations, that he was red and perspiring,
while two or three ‘merry imps’ of young girls, were following him
about, doing their utmost to confuse or amuse him.
“The large and small drawing-rooms were thrown into one; numberless
wax tapers were arranged in groups, with vases of newly plucked
flowers, and all bade fair for a pleasant party, in which English
youth so much delight.
“Cook, with some half dozen assistants, was squabbling over her
numerous pots and pans.
First one dish was upset, and then another, until the whole culinary
department seemed in a state of haste, noise, bustle and confusion.
“As soon as it became known that the band was going to Colonel
Temple’s house half-a-dozen or more couples of both sexes hurried
thither uninvited, for the colonel’s friends never waited for
invitations in those good old times, and kept dropping in until the
fine old gentleman sat under the verandah laughing and smoking his
pipe in a state of bliss.
“Supper had long been over, and here and there along the garden walks
couples strolled, laughing in the moonlight, while the sounds of
music were issuing from the drawing-room, at the windows of which,
opening on the lawn, stood here and there, one or two, enjoying the
cooling breeze of the lovely summer night.
“All was gaiety and pleasure; servants were flying hither and thither
with trays, decanters, and every sort of refreshment, and more than
one rogue of a servant hid behind some door to pay his respects to a
half-emptied bottle of wine.
“Clare, with noiseless step and busy air, was studying the comforts
of her friends and companions, while Lady Bray, all animation and
gaiety, was the life and soul of the party.
“Clare was beloved by all for her gentleness and exalted virtues,
while Lady Bray was admired for dashing manners and beauty of feature.
“The lady guests would cluster round Clare, and kiss and toy with her
as if she was their sister, while gentlemen took pleasure in courting
the company of Lady Emma, who, perfectly conscious of her charms, was
pleasantly teazing them with coquetry and wit.
“There was one other of the party, however, who treated the
attentions of all with indifference. She moved hither and thither,
preoccupied in thought, and at last sought the verandah, where her
father, Lord Cavendish, was smoking with the colonel and other old
people, discussing politics.
“Taking a foot-stool she sat between the colonel and her father,
resting her head on the farmer’s knee, looking at the cloudless sky.
Josephine Cavendish was the great favorite of Clare and Lady Emma,
but somewhat younger than either.
“She was timid in strange company, and, except when seated at her
harp, studying alone, was perfectly out of place. She was, in truth,
a child-like contemplative, who blushed at the rustle of her own
dress.
“Hour passed hour, and so the party continued, and stragglers dropped
in one by one, until, by eleven o’clock, the rooms were filled with
dancers, card players, and persons promenading up and down the wide
verandahs, vine walks, orchard shades, or the long stone passages of
the house.
“It seemed a family gathering.
“Every one knew every one; no introductions were necessary; all were
at home, and everything proceeded harmoniously and pleasantly.
“The lights of the village had long flickered and died.
“The college chimes tolled the hour of midnight; the broad landscape
of field and forest lay bathed in moonlight, and one by one the
visitors dispersed.
“Some on horse, others on foot, and more in broughams and
carriages—all had disappeared down the carriage drive into the forest
path, and the receding sounds of their gaiety and ringing laughter
fell faintly on the ear.
“The household had long retired to rest.
“All was still.
“Clare alone was awake.
“By her open chamber window the pale-faced girl sat, gazing abroad
upon the silvery landscape, deep in thought.
“Boughs of lofty chesnut-trees, swaying in the breeze, swept against
the house.
“Perfume from gardens and orchards filled the air.
“Time passed slowly on; troubled with thoughts and misgivings that
cankered her heart, she wept.
“Rousing from melancholy lethargy, she rose, and in part disrobed,
as she gazed in the mirror upon her pale and thoughtful face,
half concealed by heavy masses of raven tresses, loose about her
shoulders. In dishabille as she was, she sat beside her snow-white
bed.
“She rose, and, deep in thought, with dishevelled hair and flowing
garments, clasped her hands and moved her lips, as she gazed on the
dark and lofty towers of the distant college.
“How long she sat communing thus alone, or the nature of her
thoughts, none can know.
“But as the moon was dipping beyond the trees, her door noiselessly
opened, and closed again, and there flitted across the floor towards
her a figure in white. It was Lady Bray.
“‘A thousand pardons, dear Clare!’ she said, embracing her. ‘I could
not sleep—you seem so changed of late, I fear you are unwell, and
wish to conceal it from both your father and me! Oh, Clare, if you
only knew how much I love you—how your father idolizes, and every
one doats upon you—I’m sure you would be more happy.’ (No response).
‘Come, Clare, my dear, dear cousin, tell me what it is. There is
nothing in the world that is too good for you; all that wealth and
affection can do is already yours, and yet you, to whom the best and
wealthiest have bowed and begged—you, my cousin, who are the idol
of all—you who should be the happiest of all—you, dear Clare, seem
unhappy—sorrow is gnawing at your heart; make me your confidante,
darling, tell me all!’
“Clare spoke not, but smiling at the downcast eyes of her cousin,
kissed her on the forehead, and soon retired to rest.
“‘Tell me nothing!’ thought Lady Emma, when in her own room,
pondering; ‘yet it _cannot_ be; but if it _should_ be so—oh, poor,
poor Clare! Heaven forgive me. I would not thwart you, my cousin, for
all the world.’
“Lady Emma remained long awake, revolving all manner of schemes to
enliven her cousin, but the same expression came repeatedly to her
lips, ‘If it should be! Poor cousin, poor Clare!’
“And even _her_ strong nature bent under some secret mental weight,
and tear-drops flowed freely upon her weary pillow.
“The dark and lofty college tower visited Clare in dreams.
“She once more strolled through its grand quadrangle, and saw the
students march, with band and banner.
“She walked in its vineyards and orchards, amid fruit and flowers.
“And then her footsteps strayed into a grassy court, with fountains
rising and falling, and splashing in the quiet of a summer afternoon,
and there saw, sitting at his window, a handsome, book-worn youth,
with desk and pen, absorbed in study.
“A faint smile for an instant lit up her marble features, and she
sighed.
“Her lips murmured inarticulate sounds, and she moved restlessly,
unconsciously throwing the spotless covering from her heaving bosom,
on which reposed a tiny gem of jet, resting as if set in alabaster.
“But, while thus wrapt in sleep, there was an unhappy and restless
one pacing, with measured step, in his lonely college chambers, whose
mind was tossed with pain and constant thought.
“He had passed all examinations with honour, and now only awaited his
degree to go forth into the world to strive for wealth and fame.
“His room was small, and scantily furnished.
“No signs of luxury were there.
“Books and papers lay scattered about; a small study lamp shed its
light upon a worm-eaten desk; an old oak chest stood open in the
corner.
“A violin, pistols, belt, and sword hung from a rack in the wall.
“Pipes, and slippers, and papers were everywhere; and even as he
paced the room, noiselessly and long, he puffed his pipe, and looked
forth into the court-yard beneath, where nought was heard but the
cool and mossy spray-splashing fountains, sparkling in the moonlight,
and throwing up jets of diamond and ruby-like spray.
“‘And now,’ he thought, ‘the present is the most momentous moment
of my life! How I have longed for it through long and tedious years
of mental drudgery and toil! And yet, now I go forth to the world
fatherless, friendless, and moneyless. I begin the battle of life
alone!’”
“Why, that is my case exactly,” said Ned, thoughtfully, as he read
on. “I wonder who this chap turns out to be? Surely not my father! If
so, I have gone through all that sort of thing exactly as he did.”
He turned over a leaf of the manuscript, and read on:—
“He thought of the long distant time when, as a boy, he played and
rolled on the grass plats, forgetful of books and lessons—of scaling
the walls, and rambling in the forests.
“Yet year followed year, and he ripened into youth, and passed the
collegiate course, a credit to his tutors and himself.
“Fatherless and motherless he knew he was.
“But who had fed and clothed and educated him, were questions he
could not answer.
“He never wanted for aught that a gentleman required, yet he felt a
pang of pride to think he might be a ‘charity student,’ for in answer
to all inquiries the grey-haired President always smiled, took his
arm, and said,
“‘Edward, ask no questions—at least not yet; finish your studies as
creditably as you have begun—ask for anything you require—know that
you are a gentleman by birth, and _not_ a subject of charity, and
when you have obtained your degree, put as many questions as you
wish. They shall all be fitly answered, and to your satisfaction.’”
“Why, this is my case to a dot,” said Ned, as he still read on.
“Commencement day at the college was always a grand affair, and
its many attractions were such, that not only parents and friends,
but strangers from all parts flocked thither to hear the orations,
inspect the prizes, and see the troops reviewed.
“Such were the crowds that always came on that occasion, that hotels
were crammed, and the college theatre was far too small, so that the
exercises were always held in the open air.
“The whole of the quadrangle was decorated with flags and banners,
and tiers of raised seats, sheltered from the sun by awnings, while
in the centre arose the stage, formed like a Grecian temple, with
columns of imitation marble, on which, in a semi-circle, the faculty
sat in solemn state to confer degrees, while round about the cadets
formed a guard of honour, with bands and flags, and brilliant
uniforms. Graduates, one by one, had delivered their orations amid
great applause.
“Gold and silver medals were bestowed for conduct, excellence, and
diligence, while richly engrossed diplomas with triple seals were
handed to the military graduates amid deafening cheers.
“Then followed a grand review, with its marching, counter-marching,
volley-firing, smoke, dust, and noise.
“After which a grand banquet took place in the college theatre, at
which two thousand or more assisted.
“With its frescoed walls hung with tapestry and banners, the
banquetting scene was imposing; the Faculty, with invited guests, sat
at the head of the long tables on a raised dais, while to the right
hand and to the left were lords, ladies, divines, officers, lawyers,
farmers, and others, who had sons in the college.
“Toast followed toast, and speech succeeded speech, bottles popped,
and glasses clinked in good fellowship and humour, while jest and
joke and laughter almost drowned the music of the band, which in a
side gallery discoursed very sweet music during the repast.
“Lawrence left the table early, and retired to his room to write a
letter, and make arrangements for his departure, and as he stood
reflectively before the mirror, in a dark blue uniform faced with red
and gold, with sword by his side, and French cap jauntily placed, he
looked fresh and gay in the prime and vigour of youth.
“He gazed about him at the confusion of his room, and smiled.
“His books and papers and numberless effects were untouched, and
Livy, Sophocles, Blair, Danté, works on fortifications, tactics, &c.,
lay strewn over his desk just as he had flung them days before, when
he had emerged triumphant from his final examination amid the shouts
of his fellows.
“Nothing had been touched, and as he looked at the dusty aspect of
everything, with a cat in the window sill blinking in the sunlight,
the silence of the quadrangle was only broken by the distant noise
and cheers issuing from the banquet hall.
“A dainty note lay on his desk, which read,—
“‘The Willows, July, 4 P.M.
“‘EDWARD LAWRENCE, ESQ., M.A.
“‘SIR,—Uncle desires the pleasure of your company this evening to
meet some mutual friends, and trusts that the fatigues of the day
will not prevent you gratifying his wish.
“‘Your friend,
“‘EMMA BRAY.
“‘P.S.—I forgot to add that Cousin Clare is unwell. She went to the
‘Commencement’ this morning, and heard your oration, and was much
pleased, as indeed all of us were. The heat and dust, however, were
too much for her, and she was obliged to return home. Call early
in the afternoon if you can, for we are all excessively dull and
moping.’”
“‘Colonel Henry wishes to see you, Mr. Lawrence,” said a messenger,
entering the room, ‘he is walking on the vine terrace.’
“‘Ah, Edward,’ said the President, shaking the young man heartily by
the hand, ‘allow me to congratulate you upon your really excellent
graduating speech.
“‘But this is not the subject of which I wished to speak; it is of
yourself. For the last ten years past, with us within these walls,
you have been lectured enough, daily and hourly, hence I shall not
inflict an oration upon you to-day, which is the most important of
your life.
“‘There is much in genius, but there is more in courageous industry.
“‘You have done yourself credit while with us, and I doubt not your
general conduct through life will be the same as that which has
characterised you as a student.
“‘Of your worldly prospects I know but little.
“‘At twelve years you were placed in our hands by Lord Somers, who
claims to be your uncle, with these words, “This boy, I leave with
you to be educated for the King’s army; every cost will be defrayed
by me. If he acquits himself with honour I will own him, if otherwise
he shall never know me. In every instance, let him be taught to
depend upon himself; for he has no expectations other than those he
may, perhaps, derive from me.”
“‘It seems very unnatural that an uncle should never have seen
you for so long,’ continued the president, ‘if he is your uncle,
but he never let you want for anything, which speaks well. As to
his injunction about us teaching you to depend upon yourself,
without having dreams of wealth, &c., I fully indorse; for it is my
experience that those who look forward to, or are sure of inheriting
riches, make very indifferent students. It is the poor lad, who has
little or nought to expect, who sheds honour on his college in after
life, for, having nothing but his own energy and talent to depend
upon, he developes both at school, and the habits of industry and
self reliance thus generally attained increase with age, and brings
success as its necessary and natural reward.’
“Lawrence, with sword jingling by his side, took a field path to the
‘Willows,’ and as he gaily strode along, puffing a cigar, soon struck
through the woods, and came within sight of the house, _from which a
horseman had just then departed by another road_.
“Colonel Temple met him at the door, and heartily shook him by the
hand. ‘Allow me to congratulate you, my boy; you have got through it
at last, with honour, and no one feels more pleasure than myself, for
you have striven nobly for it.’
“‘I received your note, colonel, and——’
“‘My note?’
“‘Yes, uncle,’ said Lady Bray, opening the long window, and stepping
on to the verandah, laughing, ‘_your_ note, I wrote it; don’t you
remember? You don’t? Well, then, I wrote it on my own responsibility.
I knew what a favourite you were with uncle, and as he had no
company, I thought I would entice you up to the house to enliven him.’
“‘Oh, you rogue. I——’
“‘And as you were so naughty, Mr. Lawrence, as not to come and see us
the other night when the other graduates came, I thought we must have
offended you, and so wished to learn all about it before you left
college. We all heard your speech this morning, didn’t we, uncle?
Oh, such a fine one—long sentences and big words. Oh, I couldn’t
comprehend it all; and then Clare was unwell, and I was dull, and I
didn’t know what to do, so as we have known you for years, and you
have been such a bad, bad boy as not to come and see us for ever so
long, I thought I’d ask you to call in uncle’s name, so that’s all;
and now uncle’ll forgive me, and give me a kiss, I know he will,’ and
the dashing Lady Emma, merry as ever, threw her arms around the old
colonel, and went back to the parlour singing and laughing.
“‘Oh, that’s a funny rogue, Lawrence.’
“Lawrence met Clare in the entrance-hall, and although her hand shook
perceptibly in his, a blush tinged her cheek as she bade him welcome,
and opened the drawing-room door.
“‘Now, sir truant,’ began Emma, in mock heroics; ‘deliver up your
arms. Let me unbuckle your sword, sir knight—that’s it. I’m sure
you don’t want it clanking at your heels while with us. Now, Edward
Lawrence, Esq., M.A., you are at our mercy; and if you don’t ask
pardon for your long absence, and promise to be a better boy for the
future, prepare for the block,’ she continued, flourishing the sword
with both hands. ‘Clare shall be the parson, and I the executioner!
You will be better, eh? Then this time you are safe.’
“‘I was extremely sorry to hear of your indisposition, Clare,’
remarked Lawrence, with the air of one very intimately and long
acquainted. ‘Even now you look fretted and thoughtful.’
“‘Do I? how complimentary! I will reverse it by saying that you
appear remarkably well, Edward, if a ferocious captain of cadets,
and a profound Master of Arts will allow me to call him by familiar
names.’
“‘Oh, bless you, cousin, we must not be so familiar now, you know.
No more blind man’s buff, and kiss-in-the-ring, as we used to. He’s
suddenly become very grand; just consider being created a Master of
Arts and a captain, all in one day. Dear me, ain’t we very grand!’
“‘Come, come, girls,’ remarked the colonel, entering the room and
seating himself on the sofa; ‘don’t badger the captain; two to one
is not the thing—fair play! You’ll be a graduate yourself next year,
and—’
“‘Oh, won’t that be fine! In white satin, and crowns of flowers, and
all that!—Oh, how I envied Clare last year; she looked so pretty
that——’
“‘Cousin, cousin,’ broke in Clare, blushing and hanging down her
head, ‘really I never heard such non——’
“‘I dare say you haven’t, but you did look nice, everybody said so,
the ladies said so, for I heard ’em, and the gentlemen too; one
said ‘oh how pale; another ‘what a sweet voice’ and a third, whose
initials are E. L. said ‘how modest!’
“While they were engaged in music, Clare retired to superintend some
domestic duty, and the colonel falling asleep, Emma and Lawrence
were left alone, and proceeding towards the windows looking into the
gardens, she stood nervously pulling the curtains and thus began,
rather seriously:—
“‘You must not joke Clare to-day, Lawrence. _I_ heard you, if I _was_
making a noise at the piano. She was not well this morning. She has
had unpleasant visitors, and it surprises me she is half so gay as
she is. I don’t know what it is, but I think it was an old beau that
displeased her; he insisted upon escorting her home, and after he
went away she seemed very much vexed and annoyed.’
“‘That is easily accounted for: perhaps she is partial to him, and it
is but natural she should feel annoyed at his hurried departure.’
“‘Nonsense, Edward; you _know_ she has no such liking, or I should
have discovered it long ago. It was a Captain Redgill, one of your
old students, living now in Birmingham; you must know him well, and
judging from his looks at parting, I’m sure his visit could not have
proved very satisfactory or pleasant. What makes you look so solemn?’
“Lawrence _did_ remember Redgill; he had occasion for never
forgetting him, and remembering the past, he blushed scarlet.
“‘Nothing, Lady Bray. I was only thinking of a presentiment that has
disturbed me all the morning, and which continually recurs, that
_some mischief will befal me ere midnight_.’
GIVEN AWAY!!
SCENES,
SHEETS OF CHARACTERS,
AND A
LARGE STAGE FRONT FOR A NEW PLAY,
CALLED
“ALONE IN THE PIRATES’ LAIR.”
_READ THE “BOYS OF ENGLAND,”_
AND
SECURE THE ABOVE MAGNIFICENT GIFTS.
ONE PENNY WEEKLY.
[Illustration: THE MURDER IN THE WOOD.—_See Number 17._]
“‘What mischief _can_ befal you here? Oh! how silly, Edward; if I had
made such a speech, you’d have laughed at me. Why, even good cousin,
with her wonderful ghost stories, would smile at you talking of
‘presentiments.’
“‘Still, such is the fact, Lady Bray, and, if it must be confessed, I
am very much depressed at moments.’
“‘Oh, what a fine fellow to be a captain of cadets! Why, if I were
a man, I’d fear nothing. Oh, Clare, do come here; here’s Lawrence
discoursing of presentiments, and is certain that something very
horrible is about to happen to him!’
“‘Well, think as you may, cousin,’ said Clare, ‘I myself rose with
forebodings of coming unpleasantness this morning; and it has come
strictly true.’
“‘Forebodings, Clare! Well, I know that a gentleman called to day. I
hope it was _that_. It couldn’t have been so very unpleasant, judging
from his animated appearance when escorting you home; but both of you
appear to agree so well upon the subject of presentiments, I shall
stroll in the garden and allow you to discuss its merits at full.’
“‘But, how extraordinary it is,’ said Clare, ‘that so many great
events should have befallen you on one day. To think, that after
so many years, you should have discovered your relations; that on
the same day you should have graduated and resolved to change your
residence.’
“‘But if I go, I shall still be near all my friends,’ replied
Lawrence, ‘for you always go to France for the winter months.’
“‘True, but I can assure you it is greatly against my will; there
is too much gaiety there, and as father has extensive acquaintance
and relations, it throws me into much bustle and distraction I would
willingly avoid. I love quietness and rusticity.’
“‘You were always timid, Clare. I have known you long now, and think
you are unnecessarily so; you are the only one at home now; your
father doats upon you, and, with all due respect, let me add, there
are few who are greater favourites with all, or who has had so many
in supplication at your feet.’
“‘You flatter me. I have never given any one reason to think that
I ever encouraged their addresses, but, on the contrary, have ever
taken the earliest opportunity to dispossess them of any such idea,
when it became apparent. A coquette is abominable; one cannot have
two hearts, and when that is already dedicated, all is staked.’
“Visitors called, and this conversation ceased. Lady Bray was busy
in welcoming them. Clare was superintending the household; and, left
to his own thoughts, Lawrence mused long, walking up and down the
garden walks thinking of the future.
“Some twenty persons sat down to supper, and during the meal a horse
was heard galloping up the drive; the bell rang, and a note was
handed to Miss Clare, which, being read, was passed to her father. It
was an invitation from Lord Stoner to a ball for all then present,
which each one willingly accepted, as Lord Stoner’s mansion was but a
short distance away.
“Clare did not go at the moment, and, as Lawrence was to escort her,
she preferred the cool of evening and the lonely forest path with its
birds and flowers to the heat and dust of the circuitous road.
“Lawrence paced the cool stone entrance hall, and Clare soon tripped
lightly down from her room with her hat hanging on her arm. She had
changed her customary silk tissue for a dark blue silk, and her mass
of jet black hair, looped up by simple white and blush roses, was
in striking contrast to her large sparkling eyes and pallid face.
Her maid followed with a Cashmere shawl, which Lawrence insisted on
placing on her shoulders, which unexpected piece of gallantry and
attention brought crimson to her cheeks.
“‘Well, then, now I am ready, and sorry for keeping you so long,
Edward. Mollie, bring my cloak with you.’
“Arm in arm they sallied forth through the orchard and across the
fields, until they reached the wood, and as they walked through its
shade, the perfume of flowers and song of birds were consonant with
the thoughts and feelings of both.
“‘This is a very familiar walk to me, Clare; I often come hunting
here in the winter when you are away in France; there are plenty of
rabbits and pheasants; the corn-fields abound in partridge; and,
altogether, it affords fine sport.’
“‘Yes, I often hear when we are away that you collegians destroy
all papa’s game; but he only smiles, and says, “Let ’em blaze away,
there’s plenty for everybody.’”
“From where they stood, they distinctly saw, twinkling in the
cloudless twilight, numberless Chinese lanterns hanging in the trees
round the house; rockets of many colours were ascending and bursting
in varied showers in the calm, breathless air; while strains of music
broke upon the ear in delicious dreamy waltzes, and flags on the
house-top lazily flapped with every passing gust.
“‘How pretty!’ both exclaimed, as they stood on the brook bridge
gazing, while the ozier banks were rippling with passing waters.
“‘Yes, ’tis pretty and pleasant, Clare; I shall never forget this
day, this pleasant walk; and all I regret is that I have not courage
to present myself there this evening,’ he added, with difficult
articulation; ‘you know that Lord Stoner has ever displayed antipathy
to me.’
“‘Lord Stoner an antipathy to you? What can be the cause?’ asked
Clare.
“‘I know not, Clare, but I cannot go. You will excuse me; I shall
be here in waiting precisely at twelve o’clock, and I dare say the
colonel will take this path homewards.’
“Miss Temple here became unusually animated and colour came and went
as her companion occasionally looked in her face with pleasure. A
hound, which had followed her footsteps, suddenly darted into the
forest and growled.
“But no one was visible, and now they had passed through the wood and
were at the edge of the meadow-land which intervened between them and
Lord Stoner’s estate.
“While gaiety reigned at Lord Stoner’s, and all thoughts of care were
banished by old and young, a strange scene occurred within gun-shot
of the house.
“Lawrence had returned to Colonel Temple’s and spent several hours
there, and leisurely strolled back to the brook bridge to meet Lady
Bray and Clare with her father.
“He stood upon the bridge looking down into the moonlit water
gurgling over its moss-covered rocks, heeding the gold-backed perch
and trout disporting on the surface, and heard the church tower chime
hour after hour.
“The sounds of merriment were clearly audible, the merry laugh and
joyful shout fell upon his ear in the natural calmness of the spot.
“The moon in silver streams poured through openings in the forest,
and the leaves rustled with every gust.
“He felt depressed and melancholy, and every unpleasant circumstance
of his life came full upon him.
“Time passed, and still he pondered and thought of Josephine, who, in
the whirling excitement of the dance, was oblivious of his existence.
“While he stood leaning on the hand-rail, gazing on the shiny surface
of the deep, broad brook, hasty steps approached. He looked up; a
stranger with shaded face stood gazing on his moonlit countenance.
“‘Edward Lawrence, by my soul!’ he said, and after a long pause,
hoarsely continued; ‘give place! move from my path, snake! You have
thwarted me for years. Move, I say, or I’ll send you into eternity!’”
“‘Phillip Redgill?’ said Lawrence, in amazement, disbelieving his
senses, adding in a scarcely audible voice, ‘heaven help thee!’
“‘Help _you_, you hypocrite. Out of my way, I say, or I’ll slaughter
you where you stand. What have you done? why, everything; you
have robbed me of honours, position, place, aye, _love_. By your
pale-faced lies, you have come between me and one that was dearer
than life. Yes, yes, don’t be puzzled. Not have any pretensions
there, you penniless impostor? You know you have. Didn’t I see
you this very day fawning to her in this wood? There, don’t stand
canting, but listen to me; I always hated you from the moment I first
saw you. Lying tutors called you a model of living, now show yourself
a model of dying.’
“‘Dying?’
“‘Yes, of dying; I have resolved to rid the world of you. You pale
before me, eh? You will be paler still ere morning. Take that hand
from your hilt, or I’ll send a bullet whistling through your brain,
you bastard.’
“Lawrence listened with nervous philosophic courage to all the
enraged man had spoken, and he resolved not to draw arms whatever
might befall him.
“But the last word exploded all his good resolutions.
“The slur on his unknown mother’s honour maddened him.
“The sabre leaped from its scabbard and flashed in the light.
“But instantly Redgill drew back and fired.
“Lawrence fell upon the bridge covered with blood.
“The stranger gazed for a moment on his prostrate form, and muttered,
‘I am satisfied. It _was_ to be; it is done! Pale cadet in pretty
uniform, you are now food for worms, fitting end for a pennyless cur;
no one will ever miss you.’
“And with main strength he flung the body into the deepest part of
the brook where the willows grew, and it disappeared beneath the
eddying water.
“Carelessly lighting a cigar, he examined himself to see that no
blood bespattered him, and coolly passed through the meadows and
presented himself at Lord Stoner’s.
“He was known and welcomed. Josephine was all gaiety and danced with
him; but Lady Bray and Clare, by common instinct, avoided his company.
“‘You are ever talking of Clare, Mr. Redgill; how many times have
I not told you that she is perpetually speaking of young Captain
Lawrence.’
“‘Is he here?’ asked Redgill, with a smile.
“‘No? I dare say he _cannot_ come,’ he added with emphasis.
“‘In truth, I’m glad he has not; I’m sure _I_ didn’t wish his
company, however much some people may desire and seem to prize it.
Oh, there’s Clare passing into the grounds looking for her father,
the colonel.’
“Redgill followed instantly, and overtook her on the lawn.
“‘Mr. Redgill!’ she said, in surprise.
“‘Yes, Miss Clare; pray be seated.’
“‘You will excuse me, Mr. Redgill; I was looking for my father, it is
time for us to go.’
“‘Only for a moment, one second only.’
“‘As you desire it, certainly.’
“‘Clare, listen. I am going away, I know not whither; I have known
you long, and I have only known you to love you.’
“‘Mr. Redgill, do not cause me to give you humiliation; twice before
I have told you that your feelings are not reciprocated; they can
never be. You will bear witness that I never gave the slightest cause
for you to suppose that I liked you other than as a friend. No, I can
assure you there have been none to counsel me; I follow the dictates
of my heart; your worldly station is fit for any lady, but it is not
that. I cannot explain the cause; but, to speak frankly and for the
_last_ time, I am sorry if I have caused you an uneasy moment, it has
been foreign to my thoughts, and I now say unreservedly that I do
_not_ and never _can_ look upon you with feelings other than those of
acquaintanceship. My heart is no longer mine; you can never share it,
and I feel certain you are too honourable to ever trouble yourself or
me again by referring to so distasteful a subject; good evening.’
“Shaking hands she left him.
“‘My heart is no longer mine, eh? Oh, if the hound had fifty lives,
one less would not have satisfied my revenge. Pass on, proud Clare;
if love freezes into hate, you will have cause to remember and regret
this hour.’
“Moodily sauntering into the hall, he bowed to the host and hostess
and departed.
“While this conversation was transpiring under the lamp-lit trees,
the moon was bright and cloudless, and the ozier-banked stream looked
innocent and pure.
“It flowed on as usual with gurgling sound, but eddied near the
willows.
“No signs of violence were visible, and ere long a man was heard
approaching, whistling and carrying a lantern. Presently he shouted
to some one still behind him in the wood, and both lingered on the
bridge while a hound descended to the brink and began to drink.
“‘This is the place for trout, Ike,’ said he with the lamp. ‘The
colonel often says to me, Jack, says he, go and catch a few trouts.
Miss Clare allers has fish on Friday.’
“‘Hello, what’s that, Jack? What is the dog howling about?’
“‘Pink, Pink, come here.’
“‘What’s that?’ said both, simultaneously, as they heard a faint
moan, and rolled their eyes in the moonlight.
“‘Pink, Pink, Pink, come here!’ shouted Jack; but still the hound
stood in the broad light, howling at something in the shade; and when
a second moan, louder than the first, caught the rustic’s ear, ‘By
golly, Jack!’ said he, ‘it’s nothing but a ghost! this youth is off,
sure!’ and he hustled away from the bridge in a hurry.
“Ike, however, more courageous than his companion, went down to the
brook side and discovered a student lying almost submerged, with his
head saved from sinking by a cluster of willow stumps.
“Horrified at the discovery, he knew not what to do, but shouting at
the top of his voice, induced his companion to return.
“After much difficulty, they dragged the inanimate form from among
the willows; but mud had so disfigured him that they knew not who it
was.
“Blood flowed freely from the left breast.
“One of them staunched the wound with a handkerchief, and both
rustics carried the body towards the house in front, Pink having the
lantern suspended from his neck.
“Had a thunderbolt crashed through the roof, it could not have caused
a more sudden cessation of festivities than did the arrival of
Lawrence, borne as he was in the arms of the servants.
“The news spread rapidly.
“The company were electrified.
“Every one was anxious to learn the particulars.
“But all was wrapt in mystery, which only heightened curiosity still
more.
“The collegians rushed from the ball-room, and taking up the body,
swiftly conveyed it to the house.
“‘This way, gentlemen,’ said Lord Stoner, as he and Colonel Temple
led the way upstairs.
“‘Enter the first room you come to—there, that’s it; never mind (to
his wife) if it is your daughter’s room; there’s no time to stand
upon trifles; place him upon the bed—that’s it.’
“And the wet and muddy youth was carefully laid on the spotless
counterpane, and the doctor immediately began to ply his art.
“‘Ike,’ said he, ‘fetch my instruments, and gallop instantly into
town and bring Dr. Newman with you; tell him there mustn’t be a
moment’s delay.’
“‘It is a desperate case, gentlemen,’ said he, addressing a few who
were allowed to remain in the room; ‘’tis naught but life or death;
every moment is invaluable. Gentlemen, you will excuse me, I know,
when I say it is necessary that you all retire.’
“And the door closed on Lord Stoner, Colonel Temple, Harry Ashton, a
collegian, and Susy, the chambermaid.
“The sudden calamity had stunned all present, and one by one the
visitors departed.
“Clare and Belle had heard the news.
“But neither spoke.
“They sat apart in silence, waiting for the colonel, who at last
appeared, and the carriage drove off to the ‘Willows.’
“‘Don’t ask me any questions, girls,’ said the old man, as they rode
home. ‘I am full of passion, and might say things to offend your
ear; but let me tell you, this is a dastardly outrage; it was not a
fight, but deliberate assassination, and old as I am, I would walk a
hundred miles for the pleasure of putting a bullet into the precious
scoundrel who did it.
“‘No, we can find no clue to the affair. The collegians have been
down to the bridge, but there are no traces of the struggle, and the
poor lad himself is insensible.
“‘I don’t know how the case stands, but it looks an ugly wound, very,
and the doctor shakes his head ominously. I would give ten thousand
pounds on the spot to “string up” the rascal who did it.
“‘Here we are, girls, home at last. I know you must be fatigued, both
of you;’ and as he handed them from the carriage, he kissed them
affectionately, and they immediately retired to their room.
“‘Jack,’ said the colonel to a servant, seating himself on the
moonlit verandah, and lighting his pipe, ‘bring me a cup of
wine—that’s it. You acted well to-night, and I shan’t forget it. It
was “Pink,” you say, who first discovered him, eh? Lucky it was so,
or he would have sunk for a certainty. Well, look here, Jack, you and
Ike sit up to-night. I’m going to Lord Stoner’s again, and if Miss
Clare wants to see me in the morning, tell her I shall be back by
breakfast.’
“Calling the hound, ‘Pink,’ the old man shouldered his double barrel
shot gun, and went to Lord Stoner’s by the forest path, lingering by
the bridge for some time in deep thought.
“The breeze of early morning began to blow, and early cocks crew
salutations that echoed far and near on the quiet landscape.
“Hour followed hour, and neither Clare nor Lady Bray could sleep.
“Clare had prayed longer than usual, and courted sleep, but it came
not.
“Lady Bray, on the contrary, had sat in an arm chair, thinking of all
manner of things, and pacing her room to and fro.
“At last she went to Clare’s door, and tapped and entered.
“‘Oh, Clare,’ she said, seating herself on the bedside, ‘I feel so
miserable! I cannot tell why it is; but that poor youth is always
before my eyes! Oh! I am glad you did not see the sight (Clare had
done so), it was awful! All his clothes were wet and dirty and
bloody, and his face like marble. Oh! what a horrible crime it was! I
cannot sleep for thinking of it! Let me lie with you, Clare.’
“And both cousins lay side by side.
“‘What is the matter, Clare?’ said Lady Bray, who felt tear-drops
falling on her hand. ‘You are weeping!’
“Clare, who had not spoken, was struggling desperately to conceal her
emotion; but nature was strong, and she burst out passionately in
sobs.
“‘Oh! cousin, forgive me! I cannot be a hypocrite longer! You, who
tells me everything, would not guess how or what I have concealed.
Oh! had it been Heaven’s will I would died rather than this should
have happened to him!’
“Lady Bray passed her arm round the sobbing girl, and drew still
closer to her, listening breathlessly to all that flowed from her as
she went on passionately and rapidly,
“‘I never knew till now how much I could feel; but it is too much. I
have concealed my thoughts from all. I have worn a mask, but now it
falls from my face in an unexpected and unlooked-for moment.’
“Lady Bray rose on her elbow, and looked at the tear-moistened
face of her pale, sobbing cousin, and after some time asked, with
unnatural calmness,
“‘Do you——’
“‘Oh! cousin, do not torture me!’
“And, then, in a paroxysm of grief, added,
“‘I—have—for—years!’
“Lady Bray’s breast heaved with strong emotions.
“She conquered them after a quiet struggle, and, smiling with
compassion on her cousin, drew her quivering form still closer to
her, until poor child-like Clare, wearied with weeping, rested her
head on her cousin’s breast, and went to sleep.
“Lady Bray lay awake hour after hour thinking, and could not sleep.
“She prayed for it, but it came not.
“Racked with conflicting thoughts she lived part of her life over
again, and resolved to forget all about it.
“‘I thought so,’ she mused. ‘Clare could not disguise it from me. I
saw it long ago; but it can never be. No! it can never be, even if he
lives!
“‘What pain she must have suffered to-night! How strong is the heart
beating in that pale, fragile frame?
“‘No, no, Clare. Sleep on, sweet cousin; but heaven guide your heart
aright, and prepare it for disappointments and trials, for they will
surely come.’
“And so passed the night until the sun began to gild the eastern
clouds, and even then Lady Bray lay awake, watching the curtains
moving in the breeze.
“The night had been an anxious one at Lord Stoner’s. All had retired
as usual, and, save the lights in his daughter’s room, with moving
figures reflected on the blinds, all was still.
“Dr. Newman had arrived long ago, and after consulting, both medical
gentlemen began operating on the scarcely breathing, inanimate
student.
“After difficulty and much effusion of blood the bullet was
extracted, and the wound bandaged.
“Everything had been made as comfortable as possible, and the doctors
had retired, leaving Ashton, the student, and Susan, the servant, to
attend till morning.
“‘How is he getting on, Ashton?’ asked old Temple, noiselessly
entering the room, and whispering.
“‘They didn’t say anything of importance; I only caught two or three
words at parting.
“‘Desperate!’ said one.
“‘Yes; but not mortal, I think,’ added the other. ‘He is very young,
tough, and strong, and will recover, I think.’
“‘Good news,’ responded Temple. ‘Let’s have a look at him.’
“And he took the candle and looked at the sleeper, who seemed to
breathe freely, with his long hair thrown from his forehead, which
was as pale as snow.
“‘Look you here, Ashton,’ went on the colonel, drawing his chair very
close, and speaking in whispers, ‘this was a foul piece of work, and
there must have been some reason for it. You are his friend; you and
he have associated for years. Can you guess the person or the cause
of all this?’
“‘It is a difficult matter to say. I have very good reasons to
suppose it was premeditated; but by whom I cannot imagine.’
“‘You seem to speak mysteriously. Why not talk plainly?’
“‘Well, then, colonel, to speak plainly, I cannot, and must not, if I
would. My great surprise is that I was not also a victim.’
“‘You a victim? Why, you speak strangely, as if there existed some
conspiracy. I cannot understand it.’
“‘No, I dare say not—at present, perhaps; but you will, ere many
years,’ said Ashton, smiling.
“‘Well, you may talk in riddles as much as you like; but, if I knew
the scamp who did this, he should have to pay dearly for it.’
“‘I feel certain of that. You may rest assured he will never die a
natural death, if he lives a hundred years.’
“Ashton spoke in parables to the old man, who did not comprehend; but
there was so much earnestness and solemnity in his few words, that
Colonel Temple was curious to divine his meaning, but could not.
“‘I do not understand you yet, sir,’ said the old colonel, with a red
face. ‘I know that there is a strong party growing up in the land
against King Charles; but surely Captain Lawrence can have nothing to
do with it? He is too young yet to be mixed up deeply in politics.’
“‘No, colonel, he is not; but, on the contrary, is one of the finest
writers of the day, and has aided the king’s cause not a little.’
“‘Indeed.’
“‘Yes. Do you know much of this Redgill, who was at Lord Stoner’s
ball to-night?’
“‘Redgill—yes. He is one of the loud-mouthed party who cry against
the king, and that, for one reason, makes them enemies. But you do
not mean to say, surely, that Redgill did this horrid deed?’
“‘All I mean to say, colonel, is this,’ said Ashton—‘there is a
deadly hatred between them, for I believe Redgill has offered his
hand to your daughter Clare, and been refused.’
“‘Why, I’d rather have the devil for a son-in-law than him. But what
makes your lip tremble, Ashton?’
“‘Because I hold a great secret regarding Lawrence!’
“‘Indeed!’
“‘Yes; but before I tell it to you let me ask you one question.’
“‘Name it.’
“‘Would you ever object to Clare marrying the man of her choice?’
“‘Marrying the man of her choice?’ said the old colonel, in surprise.
‘Why, of course not; if he was a fit and proper person, you know.’
“‘Well, if Lawrence here were to propose for your daughter, I mean.’
“‘I should not; but still I can scarcely understand you, for, if he
lives, I think he will aspire to one of rank and station. But if he
did propose for Clare I should have no objection in the world. But
you must understand, Ashton, that I speak thus in all confidence, for
I fancy he would never do so, for, until very lately, Clare has been
most distant towards him, and why it is that she shows so much liking
for his company now is a puzzle to me.’
“‘Well, then, colonel,’ said Ashton, ‘as you have been so open-minded
to me in this matter I will act likewise, and tell you all I know.
Do you see any likeness in Lawrence to any great living personage?’
asked Ashton, in a serious mood.
“A likeness to any living personage?’ said the colonel, with an
uncertain look. ‘Why, now I come to gaze on him the more, I think I
do.’
“And whom does he resemble, think you?’
“‘Why, he is as much like what King Charles used to be when a young
man as two peas in a pod,’ said the colonel. ‘I have often heard it
remarked before.’
“‘Yes, he is like the king,’ said Ashton, ‘and I have remarked it
also, but never named it to him; but certain circumstances have
transpired to-day which make me think that there is more than a
likeness between them.’
“‘Indeed! how?’ said the colonel, astonished and interested.
“‘At the review there were many distinguished people present, nobles
among the number.’
“‘I know it.’
“‘But you do not know that the king was there?’
“‘You are surely joking?’
“‘I am not, colonel, for after the review was all over, the king,
disguised as an ordinary gentleman, went boldly up to the principal
of the academy, and had a long conversation with him about Lawrence.
They did not perceive me, for I was sitting at my window reading,
yet, as they walked to and fro, I could hear much of what they said.’
“‘And what did they say?’
“‘The king’s disguise was discovered by the president, and the
monarch did not deny it, but in the course of conversation confessed
that he had always felt great interest in Lawrence’s progress, for he
was his own _son_.”
“‘His own son!’ said the astonished colonel.
“‘Yes, his own son—illegitimate, it is true, but nevertheless, his
own true offspring.’
“‘And who was the mother?’
“‘That I did not then learn; but when Lawrence first came among us
as a mere boy to the academy he wore a locket round his neck which
was unmistakably the portrait on ivory of the young and fascinating
Duchess of Buckingham. (See Cut in No. 13). From this I gather that
she must have been his mother.’
“‘I am astonished,’ said the colonel. ‘And has not the king, then,
provided for his after welfare?’
“‘Without a doubt. I heard him say that some grand and vast estates
in France had been passed over to him, and that a large sum in money
would be his when he married?’
“‘Then Lawrence is a false name—he is the king’s bastard?’ said the
colonel.
“‘He is,’ said Ashton.
“‘Then he shall never marry my daughter,’ said Colonel Temple. “No
bastard shall ever enter my family!’
“And so speaking he left the apartment, with a flushed face, and
Ashton remained alone by the bedside of his wounded comrade, who was
sighing in his troubled dreams and moaning.
“Memories of years past flitted through his troubled brain, and the
image of his adored one, Clare Temple, held supreme possession of all
his faculties.
“He had seen and known her when but a child.
“She used to pass the college gardens on her way to school, with
books and slate and dimity sun-bonnet trimmed with blue.
“Years had passed.
“She grew into girlhood, and short frocks and sun-bonnet gave place
to a seminary uniform of blue-gauze and white chip quaker scoop, and
her light and airy manner changed to that of a studious seminarian in
her teens.
“He had spoken to her, but met with no response.
“He had anonymously written poems and tales in her honour.
“But all had passed unnoticed.
“She treated him with cold respect, and met his timid overtures with
blunt rebuffs.
“He had met her on the road and in the woods.
“But she passed him with a distant bow.
“Yet if in the greatest glee his presence chilled her into unusual
coldness, and although unconscious of the cause she could neither
sing nor play in his presence.
“Lawrence had often confessed that his case was hopeless.
“Many disliked him from some cause; and, following in their
footsteps, Clare, he thought, treated him with marked indifference.
“It must be confessed, however, that although Clare had hitherto
disclosed her secret thoughts to no one, yet, when alone, she often
thought,
“‘Every one is loved but me! I am not pretty, I know, neither have
I many accomplishments. I wish I were like Emma Bray, for everybody
loves her.’
“And then she would stealthily draw from her bosom a small gold
locket which contained a ruby heart on which was cut a simple love
motto.
“She knew not who had sent it.
“It came to her in a bouquet found on the dressing table on her
birthday, and was the first present she had ever received from any
admirer.
“She mused and pondered, but dared not give utterance to her
thoughts; yet as she passed the college gardens, and saw Lawrence
walking up and down, her cheeks flushed, and bending her head more
lowly than ever, she passed the buildings rapidly, and tried to stay
her unnatural palpitations.
“Thus ran the wild fancies of the wounded student about his true
love, when a loud knocking and rapping was heard at Lord Stoner’s
door.
“‘Who or what can that be?’ thought Ashton.
“But still the knocking continued in the dead of night, and the dogs
barked in all directions.
“When the hall porter opened the door, he perceived two white figures
on horseback, with long, streaming hair.
“The old hall porter rushed away and hid himself, for he swore that
two ghosts had arrived at the hall.
“When the truth was made known, it was discovered that the two
arrivals were not ghosts at all.
“They were two handsome females.
“They were none other than Lady Bray and Clare Temple!
“‘Where is my father?’ asked Clare, in great haste and fright, as she
dismounted from her foaming horse.
“‘Where is my uncle, the colonel?’ gasped Lady Bray.
“‘What is the matter, ladies?’ asked Lord Stoner, in great alarm.
‘Why, heaven help us! the two ladies have scarcely anything on but
their night-dresses. What is the matter? Explain, I beg, ladies,
explain.’
“‘Arm yourself and your household!’ gasped Clare. ‘Arm them quickly!’
“‘What means this?’
“‘Arm yourselves, all of you, at once, or you are all dead men!’
“‘Explain,’ said the colonel to his daughter.
“‘You know Redgill, who has proposed for my hand?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘I refused him thrice.’
“‘I know it; what of that?’
“‘He has joined a band of ruffians who have assumed the singular
and horrible disguise of skeleton men. Emma and I were sitting
at our bed-room window, and could not sleep. We espied two men
dressed in skeleton garb hiding in the shrubbery. We heard them
conversing together, and learnt that they intended to carry Emma and
myself away, and to murder all who opposed them. I did not stop an
instant, for I and cousin crept from our room, saddled two horses,
and galloped hither for protection. But just as we were crossing
the hill-top, I espied a large troop of these demon-like horsemen
approaching, and could hear them singing a song, in which they
praised Redgill, their leader and chief, and swore to have the life’s
blood of some one they called the King’s Bastard, but what it meant I
knew not.’
“‘Enough, daughter,’ said the old man, drawing his sword. ‘Ere these
bloodthirsty fiends can arrive, we will fly with the wounded youth.’
“In a short time a carriage and four was provided.
“Lawrence was placed in it.
“With a strong guard of mounted men around, in front, and behind it,
the carriage drove off towards the sea coast, Clare and Lady Bray,
being inside, acting as nurses to the wounded youth.”
Wildfire Ned had read this much of his father’s exciting history,
when a side door was suddenly opened.
Before he could say a word, Captain Jack stood before him, laughing.