"Mine," she went on, "is Prudence. Do you like it?"
"Very much," said Harry. "But hear for a moment how the general beats
upon the door. He will certainly break it in, and then, in Heaven's
name, what have I to look for but death?"
"You put yourself very much about with no occasion," answered Prudence.
"Let your general knock, he will do no more than blister his hands. Do
you think I would keep you here if I were not sure to save you? Oh, no,
I am a good friend to those that please me! and we have a back door upon
another lane. But," she added, checking him, for he had got upon his
feet immediately on this welcome news, "but I will not show where it is
unless you kiss me. Will you, Harry?"
"That I will," he cried, remembering his gallantry, "not for your back
door, but because you are good and pretty."
And he administered two or three cordial salutes, which were returned to
him in kind.
Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put her hand upon the key.
"Will you come and see me?" she asked.
"I will, indeed," said Harry. "Do not I owe you my life?"
"And now," she added, opening the door, "run as hard as you can, for I
shall let in the general."
Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him by the forelock; and
he addressed himself diligently to flight. A few steps, and he believed
he would return to Lady Vandeleur in honor and safety. But these few
steps had not been taken before he heard a man's voice, hailing him by
name with many execrations, and, looking over his shoulder, he beheld
Charlie Pendragon waving him with both arms to return. The shock of
this new incident was so sudden and profound, and Harry was already
worked into so high a state of nervous tension, that he could think of
nothing better than to accelerate his pace, and continue running. He
should certainly have remembered the scene in Kensington Gardens; he
should certainly have concluded that, where the general was his enemy,
Charlie Pendragon could be no other than a friend. But such was the
fever and perturbation of his mind that he was struck by none of these
considerations, and only continued to run the faster up the lane.
Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile terms that he hurled
after the secretary, was obviously beside himself with rage. He, too,
ran his very best; but, try as he might, the physical advantages were
not upon his side, and his outcries and the fall of his lame foot on the
macadam began to fall further and further into the wake.
Harry's hopes began once more to arise. The lane was both steep and
narrow, but it was exceedingly solitary, bordered on either hand by
garden walls, overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the fugitive
could see in front of him, there was neither a creature moving nor an
open door. Providence, weary of persecution, was now offering him an
open field for his escape.
Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a tuft of chestnuts, it
was suddenly drawn back, and he could see inside, upon a garden path,
the figure of a butcher's boy with his tray upon his arm. He had hardly
recognized the fact before he was some steps beyond upon the other side.
But the fellow had had time to observe him; he was evidently much
surprised to see a gentleman go by at so unusual a pace; and he came out
into the lane and began to call after Harry with shouts of ironical
encouragement.
His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pendragon, who, although he
was now sadly out of breath, once more upraised his voice.
"Stop thief!" he cried.
And immediately the butcher's boy had taken up the cry and joined in the
pursuit.
This was a bitter moment for the hunted secretary. It is true that his
terror enabled him once more to improve his pace, and gain with every
step on his pursuers; but he was well aware that he was near the end of
his resources, and should he meet any one coming the other way, his
predicament in the narrow lane would be desperate indeed.
"I must find a place of concealment," he thought, "and that within the
next few seconds, or all is over with me in this world."
Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the lane took a sudden
turning; and he found himself hidden from his enemies. There are
circumstances in which even the least energetic of mankind learn to
behave with vigor and decision; and the more cautious forget their
prudence and embrace foolhardy resolutions. This was one of those
occasions for Harry Hartley; and those who knew him best would have been
the most astonished at the lad's audacity. He stopped dead, flung the
bandbox over a garden wall, and, leaping upward with incredible agility
and seizing the copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong after it
into the garden.
He came to himself a moment afterward, seated in a border of small
rosebushes. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the wall had
been protected against such an escalade by a liberal provision of old
bottles; and he was conscious of a general dislocation and a painful
swimming in the head. Facing him across the garden, which was in
admirable order, and set with flowers of the most delicious perfume, he
beheld the back of a house. It was of considerable extent, and plainly
habitable; but, in odd contrast to the grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept,
and of a mean appearance. On all other sides the circuit of the garden
wall appeared unbroken.
He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but his
mind was still unable to piece together or draw a rational conclusion
from what he saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on the gravel,
although he turned his eyes in that direction, it was with no thought
either for defense or flight.
The newcomer was a large, coarse, and very sordid personage, in
gardening clothes, and with a watering-pot in his left hand. One less
confused would have been affected with some alarm at the sight of this
man's huge proportions and black and lowering eyes. But Harry was too
gravely shaken by his fall to be so much as terrified; and if he was
unable to divert his glances from the gardener, he remained absolutely
passive, and suffered him to draw near, to take him by the shoulder, and
to plant him roughly on his feet, without a motion of resistance.
For a moment the two stared into each other's eyes, Harry fascinated,
the man filled with wrath and a cruel, sneering humor.
"Who are you?" he demanded at last. "Who are you to come flying over my
wall and break my _Gloire de Dijons_? What is your name?" he added,
shaking him; "and what may be your business here?"
Harry could not as much as proffer a word in explanation.
But just at that moment Pendragon and the butcher's boy went clumping
past, and the sound of their feet and their hoarse cries echoed loudly
in the narrow lane. The gardener had received his answer; and he looked
down into Harry's face with an obnoxious smile.
"A thief!" he said. "Upon my word, and a very good thing you must make
of it; for I see you dressed like a gentleman from top to toe. Are you
not ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with honest folk, I
dare say, glad to buy your cast-off finery second-hand? Speak up, you
dog," the man went on; "you can understand English, I suppose; and I
mean to have a bit of talk with you before I march you to the station."
"Indeed, sir," said Harry, "this is all a dreadful misconception; and if
you will go with me to Sir Thomas Vandeleur's in Eaton Place, I can
promise that all will be made plain. The most upright person, as I now
perceive, can be led into suspicious positions."
"My little man," replied the gardener, "I will go with you no further
than the station-house in the next street. The inspector, no doubt, will
be glad to take a stroll with you as far as Eaton Place, and have a bit
of afternoon tea with your great acquaintances. Or would you prefer to
go direct to the home secretary? Sir Thomas Vandeleur, indeed! Perhaps
you think I don't know a gentleman when I see one, from a common
run-the-hedge like you? Clothes or no clothes, I can read you like a
book. Here is a shirt that maybe cost as much as my Sunday hat; and that
coat, I take it, has never seen the inside of Rag-fair, and then your
boots----"
The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, stopped short in his
insulting commentary, and remained for a moment looking intently upon
something at his feet. When he spoke his voice was strangely altered.
"What, in God's name," said he, "is all this?"
Harry, following the direction of the man's eyes, beheld a spectacle
that struck him dumb with terror and amazement. In his fall he had
descended vertically upon the bandbox and burst it open from end to end;
thence a great treasure of diamonds had poured forth, and now lay
abroad, part trodden in the soil, part scattered on the surface in regal
and glittering profusion. There was a magnificent coronet which he had
often admired on Lady Vandeleur; there were rings and brooches, eardrops
and bracelets, and even unset brilliants rolling here and there among
the rosebushes like drops of morning dew. A princely fortune lay between
the two men upon the ground--a fortune in the most inviting, solid, and
durable form, capable of being carried in an apron, beautiful in itself,
and scattering the sunlight in a million rainbow flashes.
"Good Heavens!" said Harry. "I am lost!"
His mind raced backward into the past with the incalculable velocity of
thought, and he began to comprehend his day's adventures, to conceive
them as a whole, and to recognize the sad imbroglio in which his own
character and fortunes had become involved. He looked round him, as if
for help, but he was alone in the garden, with his scattered diamonds
and his redoubtable interlocutor; and when he gave ear, there was no
sound but the rustle of the leaves and the hurried pulsation of his
heart. It was little wonder if the young man felt himself a little
deserted by his spirits, and with a broken voice repeated his last
ejaculation:
"I am lost!"
The gardener peered in all directions with an air of guilt; but there
was no face at any of the windows, and he seemed to breathe again.
"Pick up a heart," he said, "you fool! The worst of it is done. Why
could you not say at first there was enough for two? Two!" he repeated,
"ay, and for two hundred! But come away from here, where we may be
observed; and, for the love of wisdom, straighten out your hat and brush
your clothes. You could not travel two steps the figure of fun you look
just now."
While Harry mechanically adopted these suggestions, the gardener,
getting upon his knees, hastily drew together the scattered jewels and
returned them to the bandbox. The touch of these costly crystals sent a
shiver of emotion through the man's stalwart frame; his face was
transfigured, and his eyes shone with concupiscence; indeed, it seemed
as if he luxuriously prolonged his occupation, and dallied with every
diamond that he handled. At last, however, it was done; and, concealing
the bandbox in his smock, the gardener beckoned to Harry and preceded
him in the direction of the house.
Near the door they were met by a young man evidently in holy orders,
dark and strikingly handsome, with a look of mingled weakness and
resolution, and very neatly attired after the manner of his caste. The
gardener was plainly annoyed by this encounter; but he put as good a
face upon it as he could, and accosted the clergyman with an obsequious
and smiling air.
"Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles," said he; "a fine afternoon, as
sure as God made it! And here is a young friend of mine who had a fancy
to look at my roses. I took the liberty to bring him in, for I thought
none of the lodgers would object."
"Speaking for myself," replied the Reverend Mr. Rolles, "I do not; nor
do I fancy any of the rest of us would be more difficult upon so small a
matter. The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn; we must none of us forget
that; and because you give us liberty to walk there we should be indeed
ungracious if we so far presumed upon your politeness as to interfere
with the convenience of your friends. But, on second thoughts," he
added, "I believe that this gentleman and I have met before. Mr.
Hartley, I think. I regret to observe that you have had a fall."
And he offered his hand.
A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible the
necessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of help, and
to deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the gardener,
who was at least unknown to him, rather than the curiosity and perhaps
the doubts of an acquaintance.
"I fear there is some mistake," said he. "My name is Thomlinson, and I
am a friend of Mr. Raeburn's."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Rolles. "The likeness is amazing."
Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now felt
it high time to bring it to a period.
"I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir," said he.
And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then into a
chamber on the garden. His first care was to draw down the blind, for
Mr. Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an attitude of
perplexity and thought. Then he emptied the broken bandbox on the table,
and stood before the treasure, thus fully displayed, with an expression
of rapturous greed, and rubbing his hand upon his thighs. For Harry, the
sight of the man's face under the influence of this base emotion added
another pang to those he was already suffering. It seemed incredible
that, from his life of pure and delicate trifling, he should be plunged
in a breath among sordid and criminal relations. He could reproach his
conscience with no sinful act; and yet he was now suffering the
punishment of sin in its most acute and cruel forms--the dread of
punishment, the suspicions of the good, and the companionship and
contamination of vile and brutal natures. He felt he could lay his life
down with gladness to escape from the room and the society of Mr.
Raeburn.
"And now," said the latter, after he had separated the jewels into two
nearly equal parts, and drawn one of them nearer to himself; "and now,"
said he, "everything in this world has to be paid for, and some things
sweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be your name, that I am a
man of a very easy temper, and good nature has been my stumbling block
from first to last. I could pocket the whole of these pretty pebbles, if
I chose, and I should like to see you dare to say a word; but I think I
must have taken a liking to you; for I declare I have not the heart to
shave you so close. So, do you see, in pure kind feeling, I propose that
we divide; and these," indicating the two heaps, "are the proportions
that seem to me just and friendly. Do you see any objection, Mr.
Hartley, may I ask? I am not the man to stick upon a brooch."
"But, sir," cried Harry, "what you propose to me is impossible. The
jewels are not mine, and I cannot share what is another's, no matter
with whom, nor in what proportions."
"They are not yours, are they not?" returned Raeburn. "And you could not
share them with anybody, couldn't you? Well, now, that is what I call a
pity; for here I am obliged to take you to the station. The
police--think of that," he continued; "think of the disgrace for your
respectable parents; think," he went on, taking Harry by the wrist;
"think of the Colonies and the Day of Judgment."
"I cannot help it," wailed Harry. "It is not my fault. You will not come
with me to Eaton Place."
"No," replied the man, "I will not, that is certain. And I mean to
divide these playthings with you here."
And so saying he applied a sudden and severe torsion to the lad's wrist.
Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspiration burst forth upon
his face. Perhaps pain and terror quickened his intelligence, but
certainly at that moment the whole business flashed across him in
another light; and he saw that there was nothing for it but to accede to
the ruffian's proposal, and trust to find the house and force him to
disgorge, under more favorable circumstances, and when he himself was
clear from all suspicion.
"I agree," he said.
"There is a lamb," sneered the gardener. "I thought you would recognize
your interests at last. This bandbox," he continued, "I shall burn with
my rubbish; it is a thing that curious folk might recognize; and as for
you, scrape up your gayeties and put them in your pocket."
Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, and every now and again,
his greed rekindled by some bright scintillation, abstracting another
jewel from the secretary's share, and adding it to his own.
When this was finished, both proceeded to the front door, which Raeburn
cautiously opened to observe the street. This was apparently clear of
passengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, and
holding his face downward so that he could see nothing but the roadway
and the doorsteps of the houses, pushed him violently before him down
one street and up another for the space of perhaps a minute and a half.
Harry had counted three corners before the bully relaxed his grasp, and
crying, "Now be off with you!" sent the lad flying headforemost with a
well-directed and athletic kick.
When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and bleeding freely at the
nose, Mr. Raeburn had entirely disappeared. For the first time, anger
and pain so completely overcame the lad's spirits that he burst into a
fit of tears and remained sobbing in the middle of the road.
After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, he began to look about
him and read the names of the streets at whose intersection he had been
deserted by the gardener. He was still in an unfrequented portion of
West London, among villas and large gardens; but he could see some
persons at a window who had evidently witnessed his misfortune; and
almost immediately after a servant came running from the house and
offered him a glass of water. At the same time, a dirty rogue, who had
been slouching somewhere in the neighborhood, drew near him from the
other side.
"Poor fellow," said the maid, "how vilely you have been handled, to be
sure! Why, your knees are all cut, and your clothes ruined! Do you know
the wretch who used you so?"
"That I do!" cried Harry, who was somewhat refreshed by the water; "and
shall run him home in spite of his precautions. He shall pay dearly for
this day's work, I promise you."
"You had better come into the house and have yourself washed and
brushed," continued the maid. "My mistress will make you welcome, never
fear. And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of mercy!" she
screamed, "if you have not dropped diamonds all over the street!"
Such was the case; a good half of what remained to him after the
depredations of Mr. Raeburn had been shaken out of his pockets by the
somersault, and once more lay glittering on the ground. He blessed his
fortune that the maid had been so quick of eye; "there is nothing so bad
but it might be worse," thought he; and the recovery of these few seemed
to him almost as great an affair as the loss of all the rest. But, alas!
as he stooped to pick up his treasures the loiterer made a rapid
onslaught, overset both Harry and the maid with a movement of his arms,
swept up a double handful of the diamonds, and made off along the street
with an amazing swiftness.
Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave chase to the
miscreant with many cries, but the latter was too fleet of foot, and
probably too well acquainted with the locality; for turn where the
pursuer would he could find no traces of the fugitive.
In the deepest despondency Harry revisited the scene of his mishap,
where the maid, who was still waiting, very honestly returned to him his
hat and the remainder of the fallen diamonds. Harry thanked her from
his heart, and being now in no humor for economy, made his way to the
nearest cab stand, and set off for Eaton Place by coach.
The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a catastrophe
had happened in the family; and the servants clustered together in the
hall, and were unable, or perhaps not altogether anxious, to suppress
their merriment at the tatterdemalion figure of the secretary. He passed
them with as good an air of dignity as he could assume, and made
directly for the boudoir. When he opened the door, an astonishing and
even menacing spectacle presented itself to his eyes; for he beheld the
general and his wife, and, of all people, Charlie Pendragon, closeted
together, and speaking with earnestness and gravity on some important
subject. Harry saw at once that there was little left for him to
explain--plenary confession had plainly been made to the general of the
intended fraud upon his pocket, and the unfortunate miscarriage of the
scheme; and they had all made common cause against a common danger.
"Thank Heaven!" cried Lady Vandeleur, "here he is! The bandbox, Harry,
the bandbox!"
But Harry stood before them silent and downcast.
"Speak!" she cried. "Speak! Where is the bandbox?"
And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated the demand.
Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. He was very white.
"This is all that remains," said he. "I declare before Heaven it was
through no fault of mine; and if you will have patience, although some
are lost, I am afraid, forever, others, I am sure, may be still
recovered!"
"Alas!" cried Lady Vandeleur, "all our diamonds are gone, and I owe
ninety thousand pounds for dress!"
"Madam," said the general, "you might have paved the gutter with your
own trash; you might have made debts to fifty times the sum you mention;
you might have robbed me of my mother's coronet and rings; and Nature
might have still so far prevailed that I could have forgiven you at
last. But, madam, you have taken the Rajah's Diamond--the Eye of Light,
as the Orientals poetically termed it--the Pride of Kashgar! You have
taken from me the Rajah's Diamond," he cried, raising his hands, "and
all, madam, all is at an end between us!"
"Believe me, General Vandeleur," she replied, "that is one of the most
agreeable speeches that ever I heard from your lips; and since we are to
be ruined I could almost welcome the change, if it delivers me from you.
You have told me often enough that I married you for your money; let me
tell you now that I always bitterly repented the bargain; and if you
were still marriageable, and had a diamond bigger than your head, I
should counsel even my maid against a union so uninviting and
disastrous. As for you, Mr. Hartley," she continued, turning on the
secretary, "you have sufficiently exhibited your valuable qualities in
this house; we are now persuaded that you equally lack manhood, sense
and self-respect; and I can see only one course open for you--to
withdraw instanter, and, if possible, return no more. For your wages you
may rank as a creditor in my late husband's bankruptcy."
Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting address before the
general was down upon him with another.
"And in the meantime," said that personage, "follow me before the
nearest inspector of police. You may impose upon a simple-minded
soldier, sir, but the eye of the law will read your disreputable secret.
If I must spend my old age in poverty through your underhand intriguing
with my wife, I mean at least that you shall not remain unpunished for
your pains; and God, sir, will deny me a very considerable satisfaction
if you do not pick oakum from now until your dying day."
With that the general dragged Harry from the apartment and hurried him
down-stairs and along the street to the police-station of the district.
Here (says my Arabian author) ended this deplorable business of the
bandbox. But to the unfortunate secretary the whole affair was the
beginning of a new and manlier life. The police were easily persuaded
of his innocence; and, after he had given what help he could in the
subsequent investigation, he was even complimented by one of the chiefs
of the detective department on the probity and simplicity of his
behavior. Several persons interested themselves in one so unfortunate;
and soon after he inherited a sum of money from a maiden aunt in
Worcestershire. With this he married Prudence, and set sail for Bendigo,
or, according to another account, for Trincomalee, exceedingly content,
and with the best of prospects.
[Illustration]
XIII.--The Hero and the Cowboy[L]
_By Joseph C. Lincoln_